Elsinore
By Oneiriad
Author's note: I should probably point out that the sole reason this ficlet exist is as an excuse for the pirates to visit Denmark. As such I'm sorry to say that it doesn't fit into any movie chronology - it just is. And before anybody asks, yes, I'm still working on Falling..., but I am a slow writer.
Disclaimer: The pirates in question are not and never will be mine. But I do live in the town in question.
" It's all your own fault, as you perfectly well know."
James places the mugs of mulled wine on the table – rum is all well and good in the Caribbean, but here it lacks a certain – warmth – and sinks down across from the pirate captain, who has appropriated the seat closest to the common room's fireplace.
"If only you hadn't been in such a hurry. Really, Jack, only fools venture out on the Baltic Sea during the winter."
Quite true, and Jack – appearances notwithstanding – is no fool. It's just that those tales had been so very tantalizing and he had been certain they could be in and out long before the cold season got started.
"Besides, this way we'll be able to sail forth with the spring – fully provisioned and repaired. There are far worse places to be stuck."
True again – Elsinore is actually a fairly nice place, if one can ignore those annoying toll-collecting officials. Which they pretty much can – partly thanks to the Pearl's lack of actual cargo, partly thanks to the influence of the local British consul, who has surprised everyone by being a cousin of dear Lizzie's dearly departed mother, and willing to help a relative, even if the relative in question is only one step away from disgrace – as long as she doesn't embarrass him, which they of course go to certain lengths to avoid.
"Of course, our Mr. Turner might disagree. I am still surprised that his nose wasn't broken."
Ah, but Elsinore is above all else a sailor's kind of town – providing for both the common salts and all the way up to a full-fledged Admiral. Has been for centuries. Dear William has nothing to complain about – after all, you're not a proper sailor before you have had your arse kicked by the locals here. Or so the locals say, anyway.
"Still, the town's offer of entertainments is somewhat - limited. Miss Swann and I have been discussing the possibility of going south to the capital for a few weeks. You should come. It's not like anybody can sneak off with the Pearl as long as the sea is frozen."
Jack smiles. Perhaps he will. But for right now it is enough to sit by the fire, drinking mulled wine, dreaming about those lovely promises of riches – imagine, an entire castle of amber – just sitting there, waiting for them.
"Anyway, here's to spring."
Aye, to spring.