Hello! Back again for a new story. This is the sequel to "The Hat". Better read (and review, lol) that before. It's not even that long or complicated...
Again, I'd like to point out how much I owe to Karibbean for her corrective work. (Thank you thank you thank you!) she's so nice to read over my shoulder sometimes, and tell me to watch out for some mistakes or any other...
I have a few words before we start with the story, but first:
IownnothingofPOTC,characternorevent,noprofitisbeingmadeoutofthisstoryotherthanafewreviews,thankyouverymuchindeed.
Now, that's said, we can go on.
Please, remember that Jack and Kurt met just after Jack was mutinied on, and that ten years passed ever since. Kurt is twenty two years old.
Enjoy!
« Whot ?
- I said, go sav' 'er.
- And why me, pray tell ?
- Because Mister Prid'o' the Royal Navy here can't swim.
- But you can.
- I'm the Cap'n here, mate.
- Blast it. »
The young man to whom the first voice belonged to started to disvest quickly, putting his hat, coat, belt and shoulder strap in his companion's extended arms. « I can't believe you're expecting me to fly off to the rescue of some crazy cliff-jumping lass, Jack.
- You're right, I don' expect you to fly. Just swim. »
With a muttered curse, the young man dove expertly into the water, and started swimming steadily toward the cliff. It was not too far away, but there were some waves due to the great rocks. Nonetheless he pressed on to find the poor girl as he was sure that the girl that had fallen down would not mind any minute less she spent without breathing fresh air. On the docked ship, his companion was observing him intently, ready to help if there was any danger. When he saw the man went under again to retrieve the lady, he clutched the scabbard more closely to his chest.
As the younger man made it back to the dock, his captain hurried down the gangway closely followed by the two guards the pair had been entertaining before the whole commotion erupted. He grabbed the girl under the arm, and hoisted her quickly out of the water, letting the guards take further care of her. Then he grabbed the young man's hand and helped him make it to the quay. The guard examining the girl cried out. « She's not breathing ! »
Jack made sure his subordinate was alright « You aw'right Kurt ? Yes ? Speak louder mate. » , and skittled to the side of the young woman – a girl, really – and diagnosed the problem. He took out his knife and quickly ripped the tightly laced corset off her ribs. She took a deep intake of air, and turned to the side to cought out the water she had swallowed. Kurt laid unmoving beside the water, breathing deeply himself and groaning softly in both annoyance and fatigue. The captain glanced at him and chuckled softly, before turning back to the girl. A golden flash caught his eye, and before the guard could react, reached for the girl's bosom and took hold of a wide ornated pendant the girl had been hiding beneath her clothes.
He frowned slightly and knuttled his brow in worry. « Where did you get that ? »
Before she could answer, the shiny tip of a well sharpened sword pointed under his nose, along with a cool voice saying, « Get off of her. »
The captain raised his hands in a appeasing manner, and rose slowly, catching the eyes of the military officer with his and keeping contact. He bowed his head to the side, and put on the most innocent face a man could manage. The younger man laying on the dock patted one of the soldier's legs and said moodily, « Give a hand here. » The soldier gave him his hand, and Kurt pulled himself up. He closed up to his captain, and observed the sword, from pointy tip to handle and then the man who held said sword. He shared a look with the older man, and said in a off hand manner, « Nice sword. » The captain readily nodded his head, and said in a very serious manner, « I was 'bout to say that. »
A middle aged man came up running, quite out of breath, and helped the girl up. He lend her his coat to cover herself, and glanced around. He caught the sight of one of the soldiers holding up the ruined corset, and glared. The soldier gulped, put own the item, silently pointed a finger at the foreign man and his companion. The wigged man huffed up, and nosily turned to the officer holding the captain at the tip of his sword, « Shoot them. »
Both men rolled their eyes, and the girl gulped. She stood forward and pleaded. « Please, Commodor, would you shoot my rescuers ? » The commodor's face evidently showed he was seriously considering that option. But the wide pleading eyes of the young girl finally won him over, and he lowered his sword. Both « rescuers » internally smirked.
The commodor then offered his hand to the captain, and said snotily, « I suppose, then, that thanks are in order. »
Kurt observed Jack as he was observing the extended hand. Jack did not like physical contact with others, especially people he did not know. His captain hesitated, but took the hand nonetheless.
That peculiar move set everything into action. Of course, neither of the men knew that at the time.
The commodor pulled the hand he was friendly holding and uncovered the tanned arm. There was an angry red brand there, under an old fading tatoo figuring a small bird flying happily over the sea. The commodor smirked and tightened his hold around the hand. The soldiers and bystanders shuddered and took a step back. « Did you have a brush with the East India Trading Company ? …Jack Sparrow ? »
Jack Sparrow had a friendly smile, and kept shaking the commodor's hand happily. « Captain. It's Captain Jack Sparrow. If you don' min'. » The commodor called for irons, and turned to the captain's companion. « I believe we have not been introduced, mister… ?
- Adriamson. Kurt Adriamson. Call me Mr. Adriamson, if you please. »
The commodor sighed and motioned to his men to have them surrounded. His subordinate produced irons as if he were always carrying some around on his person, and started on Sparrow's wrist. The pirate sighed and tapped his feet in impatience. Another soldier took the other pair of shackles, and quickly shut them over the thick wrists of the younger man. The commodor stood beside them, and looked over Kurt, fom his feet to his head. Kurt smirked.
« I'm six feet and seven inches tall, if that's what you're wondering about. I also weight over a hundred and eighty pounds, and I speak five languages fluently, and I am struggling a bit over my cantonese.
- He likes spicy foods an' whisky. I've tried to clean him of 'at bad habit, for rum's the best, but he keeps gettin' back to it, » said Sparrow in a confidential tone. Kurt chuckled. The commodor rolled his eyes. « You are certainly the worst pirates I have ever met.
- At least you'll remember us. We certainly won't remember you. » Kurt outright laughed at Jack's joke.
The young girl strolled forward, indignant. « Commodor, you can't hang those men ! They rescued me ! » Before the Commodor could answer, Kurt shouted from over his shoulder. « Hey ! I did the job ! He only undressed you ! That doesn't count as heroic, does it ? » The commodor's eyes glinted with fury. And he coolly replied to the girl. « Miss Elizabeth, one good action does not abide a whole life of misdeeds.
- But it seems to be enough to hang a man.
- That it does, Sparrow.
- Captain, please. Captain Sparrow. » Jack said to the commodore before looking to the officer who could not seem to figure out how the irons work, saying, « Man, can't you get any slower ? » Kurt reached over, and clasped the irons himself. Jack smiled, and said softly. « Thanks. ».
He then jumped to the side, throwing the iron's chain over the girls head.
« Well, now, all nice here. You woul'n' wan' me to strangle Miss Wiggy-Head's daughter- dearest would you ? Elizabeth was it ?
- That's Miss Swann to you ! screamed the commodor.
- Now, now, all nice I said. My effects, please, » said Jack, motioning to his weapons, hat and coat he had been stripped of. « Don' min' the coat, don' forget me hat ! »
The commodor gave the bundle to Elizabeth, and Jack instantly reached for the gun that conveniently sat on the top. He turned the girl around in between his arms, and gave her a shiny smile. « Now, darlin', if you'd min'… »
The girl scowled and firmly sat the battered hat on top of the pirate's head, and proceeded to fit his belt and wide shoulder strap. She gave a strong jerk to tighten the belt, and Jack ooh-ed as it settled a bit low on his hips. « Careful on me goods, there, darlin'.
Don't mind what he tells you, Miss, make sure he can't reproduce ! » laughed Kurt. Jack laughed back, and made the girl turn again.
He took a few steps back, saying smartly. « And now, gentlemen, you will remember this day as the day where you almost captured Captain Jack Sparrow. You've got Kurt, so you won't be too sad. He's great company, I assure you. » And he threw the girl forward in the surprised arms of the soldiers that were advancing on them, grabbed a loading rope and flew off over the lower part of the digue.
Running away while holding the heavy irons in front of him was a difficult task, but Jack was almost used to it by now. He could recognize any iron by it's weight. French, English, Spanish, Portuguese, Dutch…English were ones of the heaviest sort. He hid behind a statue advertising for a blacksmith, and waited until the nearest squad had passed by, before entering the shop.
It was empty of any human presence at first sight. There was an old donkey standing there tied to some kind of wheel. Jack entered further, and a snort made him jump. There was a fat man asleep in the darkest corner, hugging a bottle in a most loving fashion. He had white hair and a wide mustache, and it seemed like he was the owner of the shop Jack had just entered.
Jack cautiously approached, and moved a hand before his face. When the man did not wake, Jack uncorked the bottle without moving it, and took a sniff. It had been rum, alright, but the bottle was empty. Jack sadly sighed, and shouted suddenly in the man's ear. The only reaction he could get was a slightly disgruntled snort.
Confident, Jack strode to the fire, beside which an anvil and a hammer lay. That was the part he liked less. He took up the hammer, and laid the chain between his wrists on the anvil as best as he could. This is where he wished he had Kurt with him. That boy had grown so strong it only took a single swing to get the chain to snap. The heat of the fire was heating his back, and sweat started to drip down his face. He took off his hat, and put it beside the anvil.
A few minutes later, he gave up and searched for an other way to get rid of the shackles. His gaze landed first on the donkey, that was quietly munching on some kind of donkey-food. Then he looked up to the wheels, and the heavy wood they were made of. It seemed like it would be strong enough to snap the chain. Now, to get the donkey moving…Jack took a red-hot poker and approached the donkey, who eyed him in a subdued daze. « Sorry mate. » And Jack gave a small pat with the scorching tool on the donkey's behind. The donkey jumped forward, and started walking round, putting the wheels in motion.
Jack jumped to secure the chain between two dents, and held his breath hoping it would work.
It worked. Once free, Jack headed back to the fire to get his hat back and leave, when he heard somebody opening the door. He barely had the time to hide behind the thick wood axis of one of the wheels before a young and athletic man came through the door. He had a very young face – maybe even younger than Kurt – and a distracted look about him. Perhaps a customer, but perhaps he worked there.
That hypothesis was confirmed when the boy approached the sleeping drunkard, and muttered under his breath. « You haven't moved a bit since I left you. » Sighing, the boy turned away, and approached the fire – and anvil. Jack bit his lip. His hat ! Though, the boy may be simple minded, he would still notice the hat ! And, as Jack feared, the boy did indeed notice the hat, and the hammer. « You aren't where I left you. » The boy needed friends if he took to speak to his hammer. As the boy reached for the strange hat, Jack jumped forward smacking his hand with the flat of his sword.
Jack took his hat, and tucked it on his head. The boy caught his breath and whispered, sounding both astonished and indignant, « You're the pirate. » Jack smirked and wiped his hands on a cloth nearby. « Well, aren't you the smart one. »
The boy grabbed an unfinished sword and pointed it under Jack's nose. This was becoming old quickly. Jack took out his own sword again, and crossed it with the boy's. He made a slight move on the right, and the boy followed, his face getting caught in a stray sun spot leaking through the approximate roof. Jack squinted, and cocked his head to the side. That face was… kind of…
« You look strangely familiar, boy, have I ever threatened you before ?
- I try very hard not to associate with pirates.
- I'd hate t'become a black spot on your record. Let me excuse meself… » And Jack strutted off to the door.
And as he reached to open, a dagger stuck the handle in position. Jack tried to get it out, and failed without surprise. The wood was very dry, and the dagger deeply embedded in it. He turned to face the boy again, rolling his eyes. « You're sure you wan' to do that, whelp ? No' many people cross swords with a pirate and liv' t'tell the tale. »
Fighting wih the boy was very amusing. It was certainly very different from mock-fighting with Kurt, for even if the boy was a bit broader in the shoulders than Jack was, he still did not compare to Kurt's gigantic stature. He was good, too, if a bit too straightforward and conventional. He had surprisingly good foot work – something gravely lacking in most pirate-fights, since they often wobbled on their sea-legs. But his face kept reminding him of something…Somebody…
Speaking of remembrance, a picture of the girl's pendant flashed before his eyes. The boy's face might have been disturbing, but that…That pendant – coin turned pendant – was worrisome. How had she gotten by it ? He knew Barbossa and his crew had given away those coins but to find one of them here of all places…At the neck of a high-up girl, even !
And there was a legend about those coins.
Jack was not so fond of legends. He liked fantastical stories alright, but he did not like to be entwined with one. If there was one legend he would like to paticipate in, it would be his own. That of the cursed treasure, he could bear to stay away from. Save if it got him closer to his Pearl, of course. He had to investigate that. But first, he had to get Kurt out of jail, and for that… He swiftly armed his gun, and held it to the boy's face. The young man blinked, and gasped. « You cheat !
- Pirate, » said Jack with a smile. And then everything went black.
When he woke up, he was in a cell, facing a stone wall, and his back to the corridor. His hat had fallen off his head and now served as a pillow, effectively strangling him ; but all his weapons had disappeared. His head felt as if his brain were dancing madly against his ears. It was kind of disturbing, and he grabbed his head between his hands to calm it down. A tiny little rock was poking between his ribs, and he rolled over to avoid it.
« Welcome back to the living, Cap'n.
- Kurt. How delightful to hear your so melodic voice again.
- Thanks. How's the head ?
- Hesitating between killing me or leaving me altogether.
- You have that effect on people, too. »
Jack managed to sit, and take in the surroundings. There were three cells in a row. One occupied by four pirates that were trying to get the dog to approach with a dried out bone. In the middle was his own cell, and finally that of Kurt. The ground was very dusty, and he held back a sneeze. When his vision cleared, he saw that the dog held the keys in his mouth. Kurt was laying against one of his walls, his hat down on his face and a very decontracted look about him.
that was it folks. So, what do you think? is it worth spending a few nights on it, or should I just concentrate on getting my degree?
Feedback is appreciated. (or more exactly so, craved)