A/N: Redrafted and improved edit. Jade and Tam are owned by RaggyDollPirate, and I have had the privilege to write them into my stories. My apologies to Surreal, Jezibelle and Grath whose characters I have had to alter or edit out entirely for the benefit of new readers. The name Grath credited to... Grath/Xhavek.
Dedication: From one Cap'n t' another. (Since the update, from a Captain to an Admiral/Minister of War)
The journey was becoming as taxing as the rest. Unable to stand the constant squabbling between two men of equal rank on the main deck, Jade had retired to the officers' quarters. It was a place almost guaranteed to be empty, the last first mate to have resided here not having been seen for at least a year. She had never met him, but what she had gleaned of old Joshamee was that he had been a decent sort for a pirate, and one she might have gladly referred to as an uncle.
Here, in the quietude, she could escape the childish tussles played out by Captains Barbossa and Sparrow over the command of the galleon to which they both laid a claim. Back and forth across the Atlantic they had crossed, stocking in Europe and the West Indies whenever their luck with seizing merchant vessels waned. Her mystified past left her with a blank space with regard to her fate and so she had remained aboard the Black Pearl, caring naught for the destination and even less for the sordid missions that occurred between.
Jade lay on the bunk, the blue bandanna that normally checked her long dark hair pulled down to mask her eyes, her trimly cut frockcoat swathed about her for warmth. She was a young woman in her early twenties, but acted a decade more youthful. This trait only added to her unease. Every so often she stirred at the sound of footsteps telling of crewmembers rounding the stairs outside that led through the decks. The noises sometimes made her flinch and she took consolation that she had locked the door. It was not that anyone had tried to attack her on board, but spirits were running high and thin with the uncertainty of authority. Suroki's departure had made things worse.
Suroki Zheng, a hot-blooded woman of the East, an assassin by trade, had kept nigh on every man in line. She was beautiful and fiercely loyal, capturing the wandering eye with every move she made. Yet one wrong word, a misplaced glance, and she could smash a nose into deck-boards with a glare. Only a few men dared to coquet her on repeat occasions. Captain Sparrow was one of them.
Jade was unsure if she wanted that kind of power. Without the assassin's presence, however, she could sense the primal instincts of her opposing gender crawling to the surface. When Suroki had left, reunited with her flagship – The Laohu – she had taken with her Shade Freeta, another strong-willed woman who had helped mask any unwanted attentions that drifted Jade's way. Now the only other woman – in the loosest terms – aboard was Tam, and not even wandering gazes would meet hers. Not unless they wished to lose something vital.
And then there was Jack. Her history with Captain Sparrow, though mostly without any romance to speak of, formed a kind of unspoken barrier between her and the rest of the crew. With him in sight, no one had uttered so much as a filthy suggestion to her, as though some territory had been established. He was not particularly strong in build and was not much taller than her five-foot-one-inch height, his disposition flighty and mischievous, harmless even, but still something kept the other pirates at bay. It did not seem as simple as respect, and it made Jade feel trapped.
Even that protection was dwindling now that Barbossa had turned up. After days of unease where people had sworn blindly that the old West-Countryman had been slain for mutiny by Jack himself, doubt for Jack's deeds was rife and no one knew whom they wanted as captain. So now they both were, and Sparrow's usually unpredictable nature had become petty idiocy. The two of them were probably measuring their spyglasses again.
Jade rolled over, dozily, and was started into wakefulness by a rapping at the door.
"Miss Jade, are you in there?" hissed a voice.
She clambered slowly out of the bunk, readjusted her headscarf, and trudged towards the door, fumbling for the key in her pocket. "Wha'izzit, Grath?" She unlocked the door and opened it, looking up into the strange face of Samuel Grath. He made an imposing sight, a large man with a squat, puggish face, the closest and perhaps only friend that the volatile Tam had. Although she could not help but be a little repulsed by him, Jade felt him to be a gentle and honourable creature.
"Sorry to disturb you. Seems we're having a crew-wide vote to choose between our two captains."
The young woman rolled her eyes. "It's taken 'em this long t' get round t' that?"
Grath shrugged. "Their politics."
"So how's it playin' out then? Show of hands, that sort o' thin'?" Jade grumbled, pushing through a tangle in her hair with a pained expression.
"There's a ballot box which'll be counted tomorrow morning when everyone's had a chance to make a decision."
"Oh no," she groaned.
"Something wrong? It's the fairest way."
Jade sighed and shook her head. "It en't fair in the least, f'r two good reasons. One bein', they're pirates. Wouldn' put it past either of 'em not t' rig the box any way they can. The second an' worst'f it is if there en't anythin' worse than those two at each other's throats, it's them bein' nice to everyone on board."
Grath blinked in response. Understanding was creeping in.
"F'r 'xample, 'ave either of them argued since the plan was announced?"
The stocky man frowned. "Actually, no. Well, not out loud anyway."
"Not out loud?"
Grath grinned. "They give each other amusing looks when they think no one is watching."
Jade groaned again. "Where's this box then?"
"Captains' cabin," he replied, uncertainly.
She took in a deep breath, let out a sharp "Thank y'" and vacated the quarters.
She deeply regretted reaching topside. No sooner had she stepped on deck, she was like a gazelle to the lions. From either side of the bustling crowd that had amassed, two heads snapped up from their sweet-talking conversations and trained their eyes on her. Sparrow and Barbossa both bolted in her direction.
"F'r Christ's sake," Jade said through her teeth and darted over to the rigging. She was several feet up by the time the captains reached her. "Bugg'roff the both of yeh! I en't tellin' yer who I'm votin' f'r if I even have the mind to."
Jack put on his best dazzling grin. "You don't need to tell us, darlin'. I would've thought your choice obvious. A thousand thanks for your contribution."
Hector Barbossa pulled a face, his mouth twisting amid his grey beard. "Jack, why can't ye leave the lady alone? Can ye not show some courtesy?"
"Courtesy? You're the one chasin' 'er halfway up the mast!"
"I only came across ter make certain ye weren't tamperin' with our votes."
Jade glared at them. It hadn't taken long for the bickering to return.
"Gerraway from meh. I'll vote later when y'ain't about."
Barbossa made a curt smile, tipped his plumed hat and went on his way. Jack put his palms together in praising thanks, indicated swiftly to himself and slunk away to put the charm on some other victim.
She sagged in the ropes before making her way back down, purple boots carefully picking footholds. When she reached deck level, she almost bumped into a skulking figure.
"Oh, 'lo Tam," she said, trying to avoid the menacing glower of the older woman's eyes. Once she might have been normal, but the distant creature that stood before Jade now harboured the haunted look of one who had seen too many battles, and had had little of the solace of sharing her experience on account of her gender. "Wh-who y' votin' f'r?"
"Neither," Tam growled. "I don't trust either of those fools to run the ship. Barbossa's too ambitious, and Sparrow's a coward."
Jade bit her lip. "Not t' be rude, but why don't y' leave when we next make port?"
Tam shrugged. "When Grath decides where we want to get off, I will follow. Until then, we stay." She made to wander off but hesitated, forcing herself to show a shred of etiquette. "Good luck to him. Make your vote count."
Puzzled, Jade watched her meld into the crowd. Him? Was her choice so clear before she had even written it down? Wasn't Barbossa older and wiser? Perhaps even a better sailor? A sensible choice. A strong choice. But no, she was going to vote for Jack, wasn't she? The arrogant, smarmy twit who bounced from peril to peril with that stupid smile on his face. Because, despite all the trouble he had got her into, and had yet to cause, despite his lies, his bad habits, even the times he had nearly killed her…he was proof of a purpose without purpose. He had no aspirations but the impossible, and impossible yielded. He actually lived for the joy of living. The sly git was a breathing work of art whose only existence was aesthetic.
Barbossa was too ambitious.
The taste of blood brought Jade back from her thoughts. She had bitten her lip to breaking point. Wincing, she dismissed herself below.
She didn't know how long she had been asleep. The oil lamp had blown out and she had not the will to relight it. There had been a moment where she fancied she'd heard an odd scrabbling sound over near the desk but it was not repeated and so she had returned to the bunk.
Jade cursed. Was it too late to put in her vote? She made to move the blanket that formed her covers, but was startled when a lantern flared up in a corner of the room.
"Good evenin' to ye, Miss Starfall." Captain Barbossa was slouched in a chair beside the writing desk.
The name she had chosen in a sickening moment of pre-pubescence sounded even more cliché upon his tongue, but the thought paled in the moment. Her back pressed against the wall, fully alert, Jade stammered, "Wha're you doin' in 'ere? How -?"
A screeching sound came from the shadows of the floor. Barbossa's pet monkey, ironically named Jack, leapt onto the desk to sit beside his master. He nibbled at the key – her key – in between his paws.
"I have me ways as ye can see. Why I'm here is for ye to grant me with a mite o' help as it were."
She furrowed her brow at him, keeping her knees tucked up to her chest. "If this is about the ballot, I en't bein' pushed inter votin'. An' if I reported y' f'r bribery or blackmail, the vote wouldn' count in any case."
Barbossa smiled. "I'm surprised ye think I'd stoop so low, m'lady. Besides, I want ye to vote for Jack."
She was struck dumb for a few moments.
"What?"
"Aye, in fact, I want ye to tell him so, too. Tell 'im the whole crew, barrin' meself have voted for 'im."
Jade narrowed her eyes. "What's y' game, Barbossa?"
"Why, a winnin' game o' course."
"But if -."
The old captain cut her off. "Ye will go to Jack and tell him of his success, an' then ye'll celebrate however ye see fit." His eyes twinkled horribly. "Meanwhile, ye will ply him with a specially-prepared bev'rage -."
"Y' want meh to poison 'im!" Jade scoffed.
"Ah no, miss, there be no fair play in that. It be naught but a simple sleepin' draught is all."
Confused, the young woman remarked, "But it makes no diff'rence if he sleeps through the drawing from the boxes. T'won't change the results."
Barbossa grinned, revealing rotten yellow teeth. "Perhaps not, but I daresay if no one can be findin' our dear newly-appointed Cap'n on board at the very time of his appointment…it might call fer a recount."
Jade scowled. "An' yeh think I'd do some'at like this f'r you?"
"Better. I know ye will."
He lifted something that rested in his palm. It looked like a snuffbox, round, with intricate designs engraved on its surface. Barbossa pulled at the top of the box, as though removing a lid but, instead of coming off completely, it extended like a collapsible spyglass. He twizzled it this way and that until finally a small, cog-like wheel emerged from inside the device. He turned it.
Pain. Searing, white-hot pain burst through her chest. Something was wrong, very wrong. It was like having a corset laced beyond too tightly about her, and yet it was past being skin deep. Jade yelped. Barbossa turned the wheel back again and released her.
"'Tis a remarkably discreet device, the Mixtec Tunic, packed full o' yer mystic voodoo expectations, with all the brutality of yer old Dark Age torture implements. Too many turns o' the wheel, Miss Starfall, and the contractions will be sufficient ter impale yer vitals under the weight of a shattered ribcage."
Gasping for air, Jade choked out, "Have yeh not learned the cons'quences 'f mutiny? Jack'll only come back an' kill yeh again!"
"Not me, m'lady. Ye'll be the one ter blame, an' don't ye go thinkin' ol' Jack will go easy on ye in spite o' yer gender. He follows the Code. He 'as ter follow the Code."
Tears of pain glazed the young woman's eyes. "I'll tell 'im then. Even if 's after I give 'im the drink."
Barbossa laughed eerily. "Did I forget ter mention that if ye tell anyone about the Tunic it automatically tightens without anyone about ter stop it? What a blunder that'd be. Now be a good little lady and come on over here so I can give ye the necessary ingredients. Quickly now." His hand hovered over the wheel of the remote device.
Defeated, Jade got up and, glowering, moved towards him. Jack the monkey chattered, biting harder upon the key to her door.
"Put three drops o' this into a good-sized bottle o' Sparrow's preference," Barbossa instructed, holding out a tiny vial of dark liquid. "Then all ye need do is make sure he drinks it. Oh and ye'll be needin' the key to the stores as well." This he also revealed.
Reluctantly, she reached for the items. The old pirate's hand clamped about her wrist. She winced then bared her teeth in a hateful snarl.
"Tell me, Miss Starfall, be it your intention to turn noble and sacrifice yerself fer the likes of our friend Jack? Were that the case I'd shoot yer now and save ye the sufferin'. I'm not without me sense of mercy."
"I'll do it," she said, sourly. "But if he doesn' trust meh? If he doesn' drink it?"
Barbossa rolled his eyes. "Jack Sparrow would dip his tongue in arsenic if ye put it in the right bottle. He'll drink it." He released her wrist and placed the vial and key into her palm. "Off with yer now."
She stepped back, clasping the instruments of her upcoming crime to her, frowning with suspicion.
The old captain sighed. "Is there somethin' the matter, miss?"
"That's all y' want?"
"Aye, that be all." He smirked. "What? Did ye think that I wanted ye for somethin' more, m'lady?" Again he flashed his foul teeth. "I prefer blondes."
Jade flushed, snatched the key from the monkey on the desk and fled from the room, Hector's laughter sounding at her back.
Having vented as much frustration as her aching feet would allow against some by-standing barrels, Jade trudged up from the ship's cellar with two full bottles of rum, one hand becoming clammy on the neck of the one she had spoiled. As she ascended to the main deck she attempted to tidy her bed-knotted hair but only succeeded in smoothing the surface. She dusted off her dark green coat, buying herself time for a breath of salty night air, and knocked on the Captain's cabin doors.
"Aye?"
She slipped inside and closed the doors behind her. Jack was sitting at his desk, plotting out courses with the aid of his unique compass. He was at his ease, his tri-cornered hat settled on the desk, his formal coat draped from a peg on the cabin wall. He glanced up to see the young woman enter the room and noted that she put on the latch.
"Ms Starfall. To what do I owe the pleasure?" He looked briefly to his compass. The needle had started to move. He raised an eyebrow at it before pushing the lid closed with one finger. "Come to cast your vote, perhaps?"
"Already did," she said, approaching slowly.
"Really?" He leaned back in the chair, greedily watching the bottles that had now caught his attention. "And your conclusion?"
Jade forced a smile and placed the mutinous vessel upon the desk. "Who d'yer think?" She uncorked her own bottle and took a draught, trying not to cough at the shock of it burning her throat.
Sparrow grinned. "I knew it." He snatched up the offered rum bottle and shifted the chair back in order to get to his feet. Sauntering over to his bunk, he gestured for her to be seated beside him. She returned his smirking expression, hating herself for playing the part, almost hating Jack for making it so easy.
Why aren't you questioning me? Isn't it strikingly convenient? Are you really so conceited as to think that I would just offer myself on a platter to you? Apparently…
Of course he wasn't unattractive. The man had a whole fanbase of whores in every disreputable port of the New and Old World alike. Odour aside, Jack Sparrow was famed for his bizarre beauty and quick-witted charm. The problem was, he knew it.
Jade perched upon the edge of his bunk and swallowed a huge mouthful of the potent liquor. It made her eyes water. Jack smiled slyly and shifted closer to her, uncorking his bottle and raising it as if in admiration.
"What, may I enquire, is the occasion?"
Bugger, here we go. "Winnin' the ballot," she answered.
"Ah, but the votes have not yet been counted."
"They don't have t' be. I know 's you. Couldn' be…anyone else." She could not bring herself to look him in the eyes.
"Couldn't 'ave said it better meself, love." He clinked his bottle with hers and took a swig.
"No!" Jade blurted, but trailed off when he turned to her, bewildered. "No," she repeated, turning dejection into another feigned smile. "Y' couldn'."
Jack's arm snaked about her. They drank in silence for a few awkward minutes. She was already feeling light-headed.
"Y' got any plans f'r when you're prop'ly the Cap'n again?"
"Plot a course for preferable waters I suppose. Oh, and appoint a first mate until we can locate Mr Gibbs. I know one thing for certain, it won't be Barbossa."
Jade ground her teeth. "I hate 'im. I wish 'e was dead."
Sparrow looked at her with a surprised sense of amusement. "He was once."
"Then why couldn' 'e stay dead like everyone else?" she whined.
He smiled and watched her lift her bottle to her lips, his ringed fingers tickling her neck just below her right ear. "Easy, miss. You didn't come 'ere just to slander ol' Hector, did you?" It was not so much a question as a statement.
Jade shook her head anyway, keeping her eyes averted. He leaned in closer. The power of his scent combined with the rum made her head swim.
"Anything you might be wantin' to tell me?" The smug smile on his face was unbearable. Now she felt ill. Why couldn't it be over already?
Jack grinned with an air of victory. "It finally 'appened, didn't it?"
She blinked. "Eh?"
"Took you long enough, and an admirable amount of resistance, but I always knew you'd succumb sooner or later."
Jade felt an angry flush burn her cheeks despite the bait act she was supposed to be performing. She got up to move away but the effects of her inebriation threw her back down again. Jack hushed her patronisingly and scooped her legs onto the bunk so that she lay down. He lounged alongside her, resting on his elbow, eyes conspicuously roaming over her form. She trembled.
Pass out, damn you. Before I lose any more respect for the both of us.
He gulped a considerable amount of rum then he plucked hers from her hand and placed the bottles on the floor. His right arm wound beneath her shoulders, drawing her to him. His face buried into her hair, his movements becoming lethargic. She shivered at his breath on her neck.
Jade froze as she felt his other hand touch the soft skin of her stomach. His formidably deft fingers had unhooked her buttons without a trace. His palm slid slowly upwards. Petrified, she began to worry that the potion would do nothing.
Oh Christ, sleep! Sleep! If he goes any further, I'll have to kick him where it hurts.
Jack raised his head and looked at her with a wanton grin, eyelids drooped wickedly.
"Jack…" Her heart pounded. She was Red Riding Hood. He was the wolf. So close now, his beard braids were like twin scorpion tails.
"Mm?"
"'m…"
Jack fell limp, his waking functions shut down; his left hand poised an inch below the rise of her chest.
"…sorry."
Jade choked out a sob. Then, furious with herself and the unconscious pirate, she shoved him aside and wobbled to her feet. Sufficiently balanced, she rounded on him.
"Y' stupid bastard! Why'd yer have t' trust meh? Izzat all it takes t' defeat Cap'n Jack Sparrow? That -," she pointed to the half-empty bottles, "an' this?" She indicated grabbing herself inappropriately. "Y' should be dead ten times over!" Jade growled and kicked the bottles across the floor, upsetting the contents.
Her fury gave way to anxiety and she stumbled over to him, rolling him onto his back. Good, he was still breathing. Barbossa had kept his word so far. There was a bittersweetness to seeing Jack so peaceful, vulnerable, a tiny bird fallen from its perch into helplessness. Absently, Jade brushed his dreadlocks from his face and positioned the Moroccan beads on his bandanna neatly in line. At a loss for what else to do, she wandered in agitation about the room.
Her gaze alighted upon his compass upon the desk. So few knew of its abilities, of how valuable and powerful it was, dangerous even, in the wrong hands. To point the way to what the holder wants more than anything else. Jade took it from the desk and unclasped the lid, demanding an answer from the slowly churning needle. Several minutes passed and it refused to choose a direction. She slouched despairingly and pocketed the instrument.
Next she observed Jack's hat. She had travelled with him long enough to know how much he treasured it, how he loathed to be without it, and how much a part of him it had become. If Barbossa was going to force her to rid the ship of Captain Sparrow she would make damned sure he made no profit. She picked up the tricorne in an apologetic manner and slid it behind a cabinet at the side of the room.
Now what should she do? It was an assumption that Barbossa would not approach to see if her task had been carried out lest he disturb the plan in action, or otherwise. Yet, out of fear and guilt, she was unwilling to leave Jack. She looked at the prone form upon the bunk, suddenly contemplating the next part of his fate. Barbossa did intend to let him live, didn't he? He wouldn't just cast him to the waves…would he? Jade's throat tightened.
What have I done?
Hand straying to the white-bladed knife at her belt, she turned away from Jack and made for the door. She removed the latch and quietly peered out across the deck.
He was there. Lurking about the mainmast, the shadowy growth of the monkey on his shoulder, Barbossa was waiting, feigning showing an interest in the roll of the dark waves. She cast one glance back inside to the eerily peaceful Sparrow before slipping out of the door and closing it at her back.
"It be done, Miss Starfall?" the old pirate asked, still watching the sea.
"Aye. He's out." Swallowing at the bitter taste on her tongue, she stared at him defiantly. "So what now? Yeh had best say we're puttin' him in a longboat, or -."
Barbossa turned. "Or what, miss? Can it be ye're feelin' sorry fer ol' Sparrow?" His eyes strayed to the fluttering openness of her shirt, and then caught sight of her fingers tapping the dagger hilt. He smiled maliciously. "Such the gentleman he be."
Jade looked down, noticing the buttons she had neglected. She reddened and shoved a button of her frockcoat into its eyelet to cover the shirt and the laced revelation of undergarment.
"Fret not yer pretty little head, m'lady. A suitable carriage fer Jack be waitin' below." He gestured over the rails.
She peered over to see a markedly battered rowboat bobbing alongside the Black Pearl. It had no oars, and looked like –
"It wouldn' last a day!" Jade bared her teeth at Barbossa, knife half-drawn.
"Actually, 'twouldn't last half a day, but there be plenty o' quays and tropical-climated isles hereabouts. I daresay he'll have the sense ter rouse himself before he reaches one if he be unfortunate enough for the tides not to cast him ashore."
Shaking, she shot him an arctic glare. "Y'ain't fit fer the company 'f bilge scum."
Barbossa placed a condescending hand upon her back. "If ye want to talk like a vagabond…" He grasped the hair at the back of her head and wrenched. The monkey bounced upon his shoulders, screeching. "As the one and only Captain I'll make it me duty ter treat ye accordin'ly." Jade gasped in pain, helpless as he relieved her of her weapon and let it drop to the boards. "Now, be a good little lady and help me unload our unwanted cargo."
She was released. Furious and despondent, she led the way to the cabin. The dead weight of Captain Sparrow was soon handled across the deck. Had Jade not been so distraught, she might have noticed how Barbossa did most of the lifting. Numbly, her gaze followed as Jack was lowered into the longboat with aid of a few lengths of rope. Before it was to be cast off, a thought struck her. She dashed back into the cabin and returned with Jack's coat in her arms. Rushing to the side and hoping it was not too late, she hurled the bundle into the boat beside the huddled form.
Barbossa raised a nonchalant eyebrow.
"'Case 'e gets cold or some'at," she mumbled.
She did not want to see; the rope was cut loose and the little boat began to drift, but her gaze could not be torn away. The taint of alcohol turned her queasy and she darted for the side, her hands gripped upon the rails to steady herself. Battling with nausea, she clung to the vain hope that Jack would find the compass she had slipped into the pocket of his coat, that it might somehow spare him from a worse fate and, more importantly, spare her from his vengeance.
Jade watched wretchedly as the rickety craft and its inert passenger disappeared into the night.