Hi, everyone, and a happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day to all! As today is a holiday, and today I had off, when I finished my ridiculous amount of homework I tried something a little different for my holiday fic. This is my first Pirates of the Caribbean story, and I wrote it in about 2 hours so I'm not too sure if it's any good, but I think the idea at least makes sense.
This fic takes place while Jack Sparrow is having that meeting w/ Mr. Gibbs (I think that's his name, the pig guy in any event) and Will is just standing around "keeping guard" or whatever he thinks he's doing. This is right after that really ugly wench is laughing all over him. He basically meets this other bar wench/prostitute who really doesn't like her "job" and just wants to get away from Tortuga. It's kind of feminist, but not all that bad, I think.
Oh, and I probably won't be doing much writing for the next few weeks b/c of midterms and all, so enjoy this holiday fic while it's here!
Disclaimer: The usual, Pirates of the Caribbean and all characters and concepts belong to Disney and whoever else owns it, the only stuff I own are my on characters who aren't worth stealing anyway.
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Will Turner shifted uncomfortably as the large, nearly hairless woman wandered away with an old man who had escaped the brawl. He sincerely hoped that none of the crew would be as rowdy as the people he saw as he looked around him and all these forward women were making him uneasy.
He wondered if they thought they were attractive, all painted up and squeezed into tight dresses that didn't nearly cover as much of them as he was used to. Most of them were rather old as well, and nearly all were drunk. He hoped Jack would hurry up so they could get out of here.
Of course, he wasn't too sure he could even trust Jack. Right now, he was the only hope he had of finding Elizabeth. How perfectly timed, he thought bitterly, that she should get kidnapped when she received a marriage proposal. He hadn't even heard if she accepted it. If she had...if she was going to marry Commodore Norrington, he didn't know what he'd do.
It was hopeless- what chance did he stand up against the Commodore, anyway? Who was he, a blacksmith's apprentice, to compete with the kind of security and lifestyle that a Commodore could offer? He was nothing, a nobody, and Elizabeth probably wouldn't even think about marrying him, even if he ever got the chance to ask. Even if he did rescue her, she'd thank him and move on...to the wedding ceremony.
"Don't mind Griselda, she gets rather silly when she's had too much to drink."
The voice at his shoulder made him jump. His hand instinctively flew to the sword at his waist, but saw that it was unnecessary. The voice belonged to a woman perhaps not much older than him. She wasn't painted nearly as much as the others and her dress looked as though it had seen better days when it was new, which was why it seemed so much thinner now. He blinked, realizing the woman was referring to the wench who had just left, and she asked a question.
"You new around here, sugar?"
"Well, yes. Yes, I am."
She smiled flirtatiously, and responded with a delicate lilt in her voice, "I thought as much, seeing as we've never had someone handsome like you come through these parts." Will wondered if her choice of words was deliberate. Clearly they were, she was probably hoping to make a few pieces of eight that night. Well, he was here on a mission and was determined not to be sidetracked. She wasn't ugly, no, but Will's heart belonged to Elizabeth, regardless as to how she felt about him.
"I'm sorry, miss," Will addressed her, "but I'm not interested."
"Excuse me?" She got a curious look on her face.
"I said I'm not interested, sorry." To Will's surprise, she smiled.
"Oh, thank God. I was worried you would take me up on the offer."
"What?" Will was thoroughly confused.
She stopped grinning, and sat at a table nearby. Will sat next to her, curious.
"Well, I...it's going to sound silly, but I don't particularly like working here."
"Why not?" Will asked. "Surely you wouldn't keep working as...in a place like this if you didn't enjoy it?"
"It's probably difficult for you to understand, but there's not many occupations for women of...of low social standing such as myself. But of course a girl's gotta eat. You, all dressed up smartly like you are, I doubt you'd know much about people like me. You're probably from a nice upstanding town, Port Royal or the like, I'd imagine."
"I'm fr-...I've been there, actually," Will said, kindly, though not entirely trusting her.
"Is it nice? God, how I'd love to go there, instead of working as a wench on this god-forsaken spit of an island. For one, it doesn't pay much and you have to get several jobs a night. The men are absolutely awful and- oh, I really shouldn't even be saying all this. Everyone around here says a woman shouldn't talk too much, it's bad for business."
"No, please go on." Will was amazed. This woman was strong and vibrant, spoke her mind. He was almost reminded of Elizabeth's tongue and temper. She had quite a lot to get off her chest, it appeared, and she seemed to be rather nice, despite her position.
"Aw, now see! That's what we need around here, more nice fellows like yourself. They say that if every town were like this one, no man would feel unwanted. But I can tell you, if every town were like this one, the women would all hang themselves, and then the men wouldn't feel anything at all."
This perversion of Jack's earlier statement was haunting. Will had never thought about it that way. He wondered if Jack ever had.
"Well," he asked this strange woman, "what would you rather do, than be here?"
The woman hesitated, and then, trusting, she whispered so that Will had to strain to hear.
"I'd rather have an adventure. Sail on ships; talk with pirates more like yourself, instead of sleep with them. Men like you- you probably have a wonderful girl waiting back at home, while you sail around looking for adventure. That's wonderful, that is. You don't know how much I'd give to be out of here. You've got luck, to be able to leave whenever. You do have a girl, I imagine?"
"...Yes, I suppose. I'm trying to, anyway." Will hesitated.
"Ah, you're just the suitor, eh? I could give you a few tips- not those kind, of course!" She said, laughing at Will's shocked face. "Just some tips on how to treat a lady, is all. I-"
Suddenly a large man came over and clamped a hand on her shoulder, pulling her to her feet, stopping her short.
"What have I told you about distracting the paying customers? If you're not working, shove off!" The man growled at her, gave her a rough shove, and turned on his heel, storming away.
"I'm sorry, miss, I didn't mean to-"
"Oh, don't worry about him; he just can't stand a woman having an intellectual conversation when she could be getting a man's money, is all. Anyway, I'd better clear out before he gets angry. Good luck with your girl, eh? I'd say I'm jealous- she's a lucky one to be getting a man like you!"
Will called after her, "Wait, what's your name?"
"Call me Liz, sugar, if you're thinkin' to be puttin' in a good word for me."
Will did some quick thinking. He stood up, reached in his pocket and pulled out several of the few coins he owned, pressed them into her hand, and spoke quickly under his breath.
"Buy yourself passage out of here. To Port Royal- there are openings for a maid in the Governor's mansion. Good luck."
Liz stared at Will, dumbstruck. The burly man returned, and grabbed her shoulder again.
"I'm going!" she yelled at him. She looked at Will and mouthed, "Thank you," silently, then turned and ran outside into the warm Caribbean night. The large man glared at Will, then he too left to his own business.
Jack stood up from his business at the table, and moved drunkenly over to where Will stood.
"Not replacing Ms. Swann, is she, mate?"
Will shook his head, slowly.
"No," he replied, "just helping a friend in a tight spot, that's all."
Jack snorted into his tankard of grog, and said, "Sure, mate. Tell her to see me about helpin' her, if you see her again, savvy?" He chortled again, and returned to his seat at the table.
Will also resumed his spot near the negotiations, thinking about what Liz had said. She was right- he could leave any time, and would. Liz was a nice woman, she deserved better than this place anyway. The more he thought about it, the more his decision seemed right. After all, when they were done, they would have enough money to make up for it, right?
And he felt he owed it to her. In the brief encounter he had with her, she had given him so much more than money. She had given him hope.
Liz had seen something in him. Something worthwhile. Maybe, just maybe, Elizabeth would see it too.