"Show ol' Jackie a bit of love wouldn't you bonny?" The sailor purred, caressing his hostage's slender neck. Never had he found himself as lucky as to capture himself such a beautiful prize so far from shore and the pretty lass fancied herself a pirate captain, imagine that. The thought brought a pleased smirk to Jack's face.
"Well, I've done it." He thought to himself, "Captain Jack's caught the most elusive Captain of the seven seas: Captain Charity Roberts.
"I could never love you, you filthy murderer! Get your hands off me!" Charity spat, looking her captor sternly in the eyes and wriggling herself out of his grasp as well as she could, despite her hands being cuffed tightly above her, blood running down from where the sharp metal tugged into her skin.
"Oh, I'm not asking you to love me; you just have to tolerate me for a bit that's all." The long haired man laughed gruffly, his face well hidden in the shadows of the cabin, save for a glinting gold tooth. His hands roamed free over the soft white skin on Charity's neck and shoulders, making her squirm in disgust, in all her years as a feared pirate of the seas, she'd proudly attest to never being subject to any man's vile wishes, and now she feared this source of pride would soon be crushed.
Charity soon realized the more she struggled the tighter his grip became, her angered grunts faded to exasperated breaths, and reluctantly she felt her body fall lose into his broad chest.
The man stood tall above her, holding her by the waist and supporting her weight so the cuffs wouldn't cut any more deeply into her wrists. She breathed in deeply the scent of the rum on his breath as his face lingered only inches from hers. Charity felt the brush of his tangled beard on her face as she still tugged away slightly, almost too tired to fight anymore. After losing her ship along with her crew, she felt she had nothing to fight for. His hand reached her chest and he began to slowly unlace the top of her bodice.
"Please… don't." She pleaded somberly. "Please." His hand dropped away. Jack prided himself on bringing such a feared pirate to such a humble position in less than a day, but he knew he couldn't bring himself to submit the poor girl to any more suffering. Despite his urge to feel the warmth of a woman, he wouldn't go about it like this. He might be a pirate, but as much as he'd tried to be as ravenous as the other men, he just wasn't that way, and he respected women, well more than any other pirate for that matter. Jack loosened his grip and grabbed at his waist belt for his keys. In a swift motion he unlocked her restraints and laid her gently on the floor of the cell, wet and shivering.
Looking at her there, beaten like a dog, a swell of pity rose in his chest and against his intentions, he bent and gathered the soft creature, walking her back to his cabin. He felt her stir in quiet protest, but exhaustion overtook her broken body and her eyes fell closed again. He laid her gently in his bed, wrapping her in all the blankets in the room, along with his thick woolen coat, with that her quivering ceased and Jack felt right with himself again.
Grabbing the half empty bottle of rum off his desk, he sat back and tilted it until the last drop of liquid slid out onto his tongue. Squinting at the burn as the alcohol coursed through his body, he knew this pain wasn't even half the amount he deserved for the suffering he'd subjected the lass to over the last twenty four hours. And with a fresh bottle, he drank to forget.
Jack awoke the next morning to a shuddering blow to the jaw. He had barely time to awake before another sharp jab caught him in the left eye. His hands swung out to protect himself and with one he caught a small wrist, as his eyes final focused, or eye for that matter he realized his attacker was the dark haired beauty he'd laid to rest the night before.
"Stop!" He hollered as he slammed her back against a wall, her wrists now in both his hands. She gasped, the wind having been knocked out of her which along with her previous injuries brought her straight to her knees when he released her.
"Now that is not the way for a lady to be treating her host." Jack stepped back, looking smugly down his now swollen nose at her. He admired her fight, even bloody and beaten she came out swinging; no wonder she had such a reputation.
"HOST! You loathsome bastard, you're a hateful murderer is all you are. Why don't you just do away with me already? You've taken everything, you fuck. Just end it, now." She seethed, breathing heavily.
Charity strained to keep her composure and not fall like a wounded animal to the floor. This proved a difficult task seeing that some of her ribs were broken and not an inch that the eye could see had been left unbruised. She wanted nothing more than to rip the head off the staggering scoundrel standing before her, but her body was barely allowing her to breathe, let alone stand up to this fiend.
"Now why would I want to be doing that? And my love, I may have taken things, but who's to say I can't give them too?" Jack crouched, looking her in the eyes. For a second he fell speechless, infatuated with the deep black pools that were her eyes, their angst only a sheer curtain to the vulnerable beauty that lay behind them. The second ended abruptly, as Charity spat in his face. Before he could grow angry he forced a smile, "I admit I deserved that." His coy smile only aggravating Charity more.
"Do you even know who I am love?" Jack stood again, tall and regal. Puffing out his chest like a big red rooster.
Charity sat quiet; of course she knew the flag, the boat, and the incessant ego. He was none other than Captain Jack Sparrow, dreaded hair, dashing smile, swaggering gait and all. And she loathed all of it. The playboy of the seven seas had ruined all she'd fought so hard to create. She would not give him the satisfaction. Her silence seemed to strike a chord. With a frown, Jack continued. "Well! I, sweet lass, am the famed Captain Jack Sparrow," He removed his hat and bowed dramatically. "At your service."
Charity rolled her eyes at the performance, and began to stand; only to fall again, clamping her lips to stifle her cries of agony. Jack took notice of her pain, but proceeded to propose his "gracious" offer. "Now Captain Charity," He tried unsuccessfully to refrain from laughing, despite her reputation, the mere thought of a woman Captain, let alone pirate had him giggling like a school girl. "Excuse me. Captain, I'm prepared to offer you the opportunity to serve on my ship, and perhaps work your way up the ranks to become my co-captain. How does that sound?"
Charity couldn't believe the audacity of this man. She'd heard tales that weeks marooned on an island had left the pirate a bit mad, but she surely hadn't believed them until now. "And what would be my other choice?" She asked flatly.
"Death." Jack said nonchalantly, standing firm with his offer. Charity pondered, her wish for death had been strong, but in his offer she foresaw the opportunity to turn the tables and have this famed pirate on his knees much like she was now. Hiding her smirk, she looked up at him and extended a battered hand.
"Then I see no other choice than as to accept your generous offer, Captain Sparrow." She said through gritted teeth. Jack grasped her hand firmly, causing her to admit a pained moan, which he did his best to ignore.
"A wise choice Miss Roberts, now allow me to help you up, we'll let the ship's doctor have a look at ya." Jack put Charity's arm around his shoulder and held her steady by the waist. In all the pain she was in Charity relinquished her pride and allowed the Captain to support her, limping silently beside him, they entered the doctor's cabin and Jack lifted her gently onto the table, when she was settled he quickly removed his hands, tilted his hat, and slipped out the door.
With a moment alone, Charity found a mirror and caught sight of the mess she'd been left in. Her face was deep shades of black and blue, one eye swollen nearly shut, her full lips almost twice their size. Her hair clung, wet and matted to her head with blood and filth. And her clothes hung from her beaten body, still intact and untouched, giving Charity a sense of security that she hadn't been violated the way she thought she would have been. With a sigh of relief she turned away from the mirror to see the door opening slowly and a bent old man wobbling in.
"Hello my dear," He smiled kindly. "Oh my, you certainly do need some taking care of. Not to worry, I'm Dr. Kelly, here to help." He patted Charity sweetly on the shoulder. "Now I'm sorry to ask this, but we have to remove your clothes for me to patch you up, if you wouldn't mind." He handed her a sheet to wrap herself with and turned around to give her some privacy. Charity nodded timidly, and slowly as not to put herself through any more pain, removed her clothes. The doctor filled a small tub with warmed water and left the room allowing her to wash herself.
As she washed the dried blood from her hair and body, Charity felt tears welling in her eyes, threatening to fall, she gulped hard. "Don't you cry, you're better than this." She thought, scrubbing harder to distract herself, only inflicting more pain. When she accidentally reopened a wound on her leg, she succumbed, breathing deeply she wept, silently, letting the tears fall to the bath water. She wept for her crew, the family they'd become and she wept for the life she'd built that was being ripped from her so harshly. In those few vulnerable moments, she promised herself this ordeal was far from over, and I time she would have Jack Sparrow right where she wanted him.