The Stowaway - (1) - Advances, None Miraculous
A/N: The name Arabella for my OFC was chosen before I knew about the character in the Captain Jack books, to be honest I feel as though the name suits this character and so have kept it as it is.
Tortuga was a free port, it was an island where traders could escape the high East India tariffs and where pirates could let their dirty, unwashed hair down. It was a dangerous place to be; illegal transactions, fights (often leading to deaths), robberies and general delinquency were all commonplace. Every pirate could find it, and if they hadn't even heard of it to begin wit...then they were surely not real buccaneers at all. In what could be described as the less rowdy part of Tortuga was a nice, quiet tavern by the name of 'The Captain's Gem'. It wasn't extremely popular and certainly didn't make the amount of money that taverns like 'The Faithful Bride' did. But, with a decent amount of customers who visited regularly; it kept open.
One such regular customer was a woman named Arabella Fawkes. She was young; only just seventeen, her hair cascaded down her back in thick, brown curls and her bright green eyes scanned The Captain's Gem with indifference. On one particularly boring Saturday evening spent in the tavern, Arabella - Or just plain Bella, as she preferred - was feeling very aggravated...and who could really blame her?
"This here, is Miss Fawkes,"
Tom, the owner of The Captain's Gem was working behind the bar, and cheerily addressed a man who was sitting two stools away from Arabella. Said man was bent over a bottle of whiskey, he had short, blonde hair and was like so many other men in those days; unshaved. The bitter expression on his fax was priceless.
"That's CAPTAIN Fawkes," Arabella snapped after Tom had spoken, sparing the old bartender one of her scowls.
"But ye don't even have a ship to be Captain of, Bella," Tom replied, shaking his head.
Arabella frowned and shrugged. "My ship was sent to the depths of the Caribbean ocean only las' week,"
"Aye! And only yerself and a few of ye crew survived. And they no doubt have disappeared to work on other ships!"
The man with the blonde hair did not seemed to care very much, and as Arabella took a few mouthfuls from the bottle of rum in her hand (which she had previously been clutching to her chest like it was about to sprout legs and walk down the bar away from her) she looked at him. He seemed pretty miserable, likely to walk out of the tavern and kill himself at any minute.
Arabella turned back to Tom.
"I'll be getting' meself a new crew and ship soon enough! You'll see!" And with that, she stood up from her stool.
The former Captain had been a pirate since she was fifteen, but she'd only ever intended to run away to sea at the beginning. She was definitely not selected. She just woke up one morning and headed straight for the docks. Arabella had managed to sneak onto a ship. And it wasn't until nightfall - when the ship had long set sail - that she decided to show herself. Luck it seemed, was on her side that night...for there was another female aboard that took Arabella 'under her wing' teaching her the tools of the trade. It had all seemed too good to be true at the time, and, in the short course of two years Arabella created a small reputation. How on earth she became the Captain of a ship she did not know, the opportunity arose and she took it willingly. Putting it all down to luck.
However, as Arabella left 'The Captain's Gem' tavern she noted to herself.
"Luck ain't paid one damn visit to me since my ship sunk!"
She went to take another swig from her bottle, but on attempt discovered it was empty. Arabella tossed it aside before heading over to a sailor who had fallen asleep with half a bottle of something in his hand. She snatched it up, sniffing the contents. It was rum. Wiping the rim of the bottle, she smiled, before continuing to walk, this new bottle in her hand. More often than not she was so battered and bruised that it was difficult to tell how old she really was, and she had one of those over-bearing personalities and a bad temper that made people somewhat wary of her.
She wore pretty much what any pirate did. Comfortable black boots which reached just above her knee and blended well with her black trousers. Two thick belts around her waist, on which hung her cutlass, pistol, knife and a small pouch of money. She wore a well-fitted black waistcoat over the top of a white shirt with large sleeves, and could often be seen in a short black coat. If only she still had it.
Unfortunately, that went down with her ship along with most of her other belongings.
She didn't have the highest standard of hygiene, but she was a proud female; relatively well-kept with a plain face and an hour-glass figure. Her brown hair was usually down, despite the tiresome way the wind blew it about, and most of the time she wore a green bandanna to keep as much of it as she could out of her way.
Arabella passed by another tavern, 'The Red Bird' and scowled at it slightly. Of all of the public houses in Tortuga, this was definitely her least favourite. Nevertheless, retracing her steps, she pushed open the door and went inside.
Very few really knew why she hated the place so much, she didn't really talk about her parents. Well, parent.
She had no clue who her father was, but then again...her mother was a whore...there were thousands of men that were possible candidates. Yet she didn't know who it was, and anyway, she didn't care. Her mother was a large, tubby woman; with curly blonde hair and a nasty disposition. She didn't seem to like Arabella very much, but only because the young woman had not lived life as her mother had intended.
Arabella Fawkes had been born to be a whore.
Well, that was her mother's view of things.
"Trixie!"
Arabella caught a glimpse of her buxom mother and headed over to where she was lent against the far wall of the tavern. She hated being called 'Mother' or anything of that sort, and so was always addressed by her first name.
"What do you want?" Her mother replied, scowling and looking her daughter up and down with contempt. "Changed your mind have you? Decided that the sea was too dangerous after all!"
"So ye heard then?"
Trixie nodded smugly. "Your damn right I heard!" She turned her attention to a man who was stood near her, most likely her next 'customer' "She's even talking like you bloody sailors now!"
The man only grunted slightly, he was grizzly looking, with grey hair and a face that probably hadn't been washed for twenty years. Arabella grimaced.
And her mother wondered why she didn't want to be a whore!
She took another mouthful of her rum. "Well, my father was one weren't he? Wha' do ye expect!"
Her mother merely ignored her this time around, discussing the father of the bane in her life was not something she enjoyed. Grabbing the man's arm, she disappeared into a back room. Arabella turned on her heels and made her way directly out of the tavern.
As she walked back outside, the heat of the evening swept over her...it was far too hot. Far too hot indeed. She began walking in the direction of the docks.
When she got there, she breathed in deeply, the sea air was something she had certainly missed. Being there, at the helm of her old ship, calling out orders and embracing the freedom that was the life of a pirate.
Arabella staggered slightly, glancing around at the many ships before undoing her bandanna and tying it over her eyes. She spun around in a small circle several times, right arm raised, one finger pointed out until she came to a sudden halt. Relaxing and taking the 'blindfold' off, she stared at the ship which her finger had pointed too. That was the one she would sneak aboard. She would start her sea life all over again, and hopefully, just hopefully, she wouldn't get tossed off of this ship when she made an appearance.
She re-tied her bandanna and then began walking over to the ship, until she froze.
"My rum!" She called out loudly, glaring at her hands which definitely contained no bottle.
Scanning the area where she had just been, she frowned and stomped her foot angrily, it was nowhere in sight. No doubt stolen from her when she wasn't looking. She must've have consumed more of the beverage than she had originally believed.
After a few moments she turned back around and made her way towards her chosen ship, climbing up the side (which proved to be a bit of a struggle as her mind wasn't quite coordinated because of the rum). There were only a few watchmen....and they were all asleep on deck. She supposed that the rest of the crew were off somewhere in Tortuga, and these others had been left with the task of watching for attackers or thieves.
Not that they were doing a very good job of it.
Arabella examined the ship, before heading straight towards the Galley. She was fortunate to find a relatively empty barrel (there were a few apples within, but that was all) and jumped inside, replacing it's lid so that she had a better chance of remaining unseen until morning. If she was going to get thrown off of the ship she at least wanted some daylight to give her a fighting chance of getting back to shore before a shark got to her.