Disclamer: I only own Ivy Rae and anyone else you haven't seen in Pirates of the Caribbean.
Author's Note: Hey guys! Sorry I haven't updated my other story, A Place Called Home, in a while. I came across a block with it. However, my beta, tinamonic, and I began working on this one. It will be in first person, switching between Ivy Rae and Jack.
To my Beta: Thank you so much for all you do!
Much love to all,
3 Cheese On Sundays.
Chapter One: How It Began (Ivy Rae's POV)
"Miss Ivy?" a light voice called from behind a closed, white, wooden door. "Miss, are you awake?" the voice continued as she rapped softly on the door.
"Yes..." I mumbled groggily before snapping my eyes open, realizing the tapping and calling of my name were not part of my dream. "Yes!" I called this time, so that Miss Melody, my maid, could hear me.
"Very well then miss. Your father has requested that you meet him in the dining hall for a spot of breakfast and some big news!" She then walked away; I could tell because I could hear the light 'click click click' of her heels fading down the corridor.
I rose and sighed, remembering well my request (not to)to not have the maids dress me. I was self-conscious about my body. I did not want them to discover the tattoo of half a heart on my left shoulder, directly above my heart. God forbid if they discovered it, they would certainly tell my father and he would have my head!
I swung my legs around and placed my feet on the cold, wooden floor, purposely missing my slippers.What was the point of keeping my feet perfectly soft? No man would ever wish to wed a rugged woman like myself.
I stood, crossed the room, and looked at myself in the mirror. I loved the way my skin was delicately sun-kissed. I went through great lengths to ensure the longevity of my delectable features, which meant that I didn't wear anything on my head or cover my face whenever I was in the sun. I despised bonnets because it prevented the elements of nature from touching my skin. I love the warm rays of the sun and the wind on my face too much to let anything keep me away from them. There were some days when I had to secretly bask in the sun nude…to ensure my features, of course. I just hope that no one had ever seen me do such an unconventional deed, but I'm not the one to care… I took notice of my breasts. They were neither small nor large and my hair fell just an inch past them. After admiring my body for a few more moments, I noticed, to my great displeasure, that my wavy, raven hair was grossly entangled. I delicately ran a brush through my mane, but remembered that I had to pin it up, which I absolutely hated. I love the length of my hair and felt that wearing it down enhanced my features…and illuminated the mystery that surrounded me. Alas, it is not allowed, since I am the governor's daughter, and Port Charles did not tolerate any rebelling. I was a woman of high class and therefore wore dresses, pinned up my hair, pinched my cheeks, acted in a proper manner...blah blah blah.
"Dear Lord, Neptune, Calypso...someone, anyone, save me from this hell hole," I sighed as I gazed into one of the most prized features of myself: my eyes. They seemed to change according to the time of day and weather. Now they were cerulean blue, the same as the ocean outside my window. At night, they would turn sapphire in color. During a storm: pitch black. And after said storm, they would turn greenish grey, all matching the seas which I so longed to sail on. Yes, my true wish was to become a pirate. I'd read all about them, from Captain Blackbeard, to Captain Jack Sparrow. Port, starboard, bow, helm, mainmast; if it was on a ship, I knew all about it.
I have I sighed disheartened, knowing my dream of seafaring was just that, a dream A fantasy. Still, it was nice to wish on stars and retain an ounce of child-like naivety. Perhaps it was more than an ounce, far more. But I didn't bother to escape from my day dreams of freedom. There were much too sweet to give up. I began to pin up my hair and pinch my cheeks before going to the closet and picking out a simple dress. It was sky blue, so it would bring out the color of my optics well. I didn't bother with shoes, since my dress covered my feet, and Father would not know the difference. I checked myself over in the mirror once more before heading out the door and down the spiral staircase to the lobby. From there, I took a right, went through Father's office and into the dining hall, where Father was waiting patiently for my grand entrance.
"Ivy," he said cheerfully with his green eyes beaming down at me. The white curly wig on his head was even whiter than the walls around us. Food had already been placed on the table. I winced at the ham, for my diet did not include meat, and turned my attention back to my father, eager to know what news he had to tell me. "Good morning, Father," I said, with a phony smile. Apparently he bought it, for he returned the gesture and motioned for me to sit, which I did.
"I hope you slept well," he said and I nodded in response before helping myself to a scone.
"I have great news for you," he said. I could tell from his tone that this was Mother's idea and he knew I wouldn't be happy. Father was always the optimist, however. He'd find some way to make me agree to whatever ridiculous thing Mother wanted me to do.
"As your eighteenth birthday quickly approaches, your mother requested that I find you a husband...and I succeeded. You'll be married in a month's time."
I stared at him, waiting for him to smile and say "I'm only joking, sweetheart. Got you!" But he never did. My head spun and I thought of how to answer him. I opened my mouth but before I could utter even one syllable, he said "Thank you, Ivy," stood, and left me.
That's the day…the moment in time, when I decided I would flee before my wedding day, and live out my dream. No matter what awaited me, it had to be better than this.
My ordeal happened exactly three months ago. Luckily, Miss Melody taught me to cook and my older brother, Robert, taught me how to use a sword and pistol. I knew these skills would come in handy one day…and that day had come. I'd gotten Miss Melody to teach me to cook, and my older brother Robert to teach me how to use a sword and a pistol. I learned how to handle a sword and shoot a pistol very quickly. Even though Robert was suspicious about my need to have these said skills, he never mentioned anything to anyone, and I am grateful that he kept his promise. I miss him dearly. For now, I sat in a cold, dirty prison in Port Royal, wearing a baggy white shirt with a blue corset over it, black breeches and black boots. There were many pirates in the cell to the left of me, but I was on the far right of my not-so-private room.
"Come 'ere poppet, we won't bite." One older pirate said with sincerity before giving me a very gummy grin and adding "Much." I rolled my eyes and ignored him.
My hair was no longer pinned up; my cheeks had gone three months without being pinched, and I couldn't be happier.
How did I get in here? You may ask. I was caught stealing. I stowed away on a ship, reached Port Royal, and survived for the past two and a half months by stealing. I was good at it, until some little bratty child ratted me out. It wasn't his fault I suppose. It was how he'd been raised.
My mind started to formulate how in the world to get out of here, and move on and get out of this port, which seemed more stuck up and snooty in some parts than Port Charles had been. But that was probably why the lower class portion of town; the part where I'd been living unless I was out thieving, was as bad as it was.
"Think Ivy Rae! Think! How do I get out of here!?" I thought to myself. And that's when I saw him; the man that would make all my dreams a reality. And not just my dreams of piracy, but also my dreams of love as well.