- Author's Note - Hey, guys! Here is Chapter 2. It was originally going to be much longer, like, twice as long as it is, as so much happens in it, but I decided to split it up, so here is actually part one of Chapter 2.
Thank you so much to those of you who favorited and followed, and especially reviewed!
The next Chapter is almost finished, as it was originally all in this Chapter, so, PLEASE review, and I'll post it soon! No new pictures have been added to my Profile, but be sure to check out the ones already there if you haven't. Next Chapter, there will be a couple new pics for new characters introduced.
With that, I hope you enjoy!
Lucinda stepped onto the shore of Port Royal among the crew of the Black Pearl, all of whom eagerly rushed off to both create and partake in the chaos.
Swiftly moving into the town, she unsheathed her sword to duel the usual men and soldiers who'd attack, too caught up in the heat of battle to realize she was a woman, but, for the first time, she didn't aim to kill, merely wound enough to get past them. Fortunately, not much of a war had yet broken out among the Pirates and Port Royal's occupants, as everyone was still either recovering from or continuing to cause the initial destruction.
The Black Pearl's canons remained in a near constant state of firing, destroying structures and anything else that were in its path, but Lucinda soon found herself coming to a halt, when a somewhat unfamiliar sound reached her ears, that of the screams of terror from a child.
Looking over, the young woman saw a small blond haired boy, probably only 2 years old, standing in the middle of the street, tears streaming down its dirty face, as he screamed for his Mother.
A split second later, a fresh blast from one of the ship's canons took out the bell tower behind the child, and, without a second's hesitation, Lucinda took off toward the little boy, scooping him up without stopping, then rushing them out of the building's reach, just as it collapsed onto the ground in a pile of brick and dust.
As soon as they were safely out of range, the child's Mother appeared, taking her son from Lucinda's arms.
"Oh, thank you, Miss!" she exclaimed, sobbing in relief and gratitude, as she cradled her child, while reaching out to hug Lucinda as well.
"Listen to me," Lucinda said, grasping the Mother by the arms, and using the hold to guide her away from the chaos, while indicating the Royal Navy structure she could see in the dark background of the town, which was returning fire on the Pearl. "Take him, and go to the fort! Stay out of sight! Don't let them see you! Go, now!"
"Yes! Thank you!" the woman cried out once last time, before doing as Lucinda said, and disappearing into a nearby alley with her son.
It was an odd, yet wonderful, feeling, being thanked, being appreciated, but the young woman had little to no time to enjoy it, before she was forced back into the battle, where, when she could, she found herself taking out crew from the Black Pearl.
They couldn't die, but she could at least put them down long enough to give the Soldiers and the town's men time to gather their strength, and fight back, while allowing the women and children to get to safety. She'd learned it took the Pirates at least a few minutes to return from their temporary death, depending on the severity of it. Snapping their necks usually kept them down the longest, and their bones were thankfully fragile from the Curse, so it wasn't a difficult task if you knew what you were doing, and could sneak up on them.
Lucinda managed to catch a couple off guard, swiftly snapping their necks from behind, while others saw her fighting them, and rushed her.
"You stupid little bitch!" one exclaimed, being the one to sneak up on her, and a cry of pain tore from her lips when she found the hilt of a sword coming harshly into contact with the side of her head, near her hairline.
Collapsing to the ground, her sword flying out of her grip, Lucinda rolled over onto her back, and gazed up at the Pirate, but, as he hovered over her, telling her he was going to teach her some manners, she recovered enough from the blow to push against her back, then use the leverage to fly up onto her booted feet, where she swiftly dodged the man, stepping off to the side of him, then behind, where she quickly snapped his neck.
As he collapsed to the dirt floor, temporarily dead, Lucinda tried to more fully return from the hit. She could feel the warmth of her own blood seeping down the side of her beautiful face, and her vision blurred slightly, while her breath left her in slightly heavy pants.
Looking around, she squinted her eyes in an attempt to see better. The residents of Port Royal were running all through the streets, while members of the cursed Black Pearl's crew shattered windows, lit fires, sliced men front and back, chased down terrified women, and battled with Soldiers.
But there was one person in particular who caught her blurred gaze, and, for a moment, she thought she was hallucinating.
It was a young man, with long dark hair pulled back into a tie, dark facial hair, deep brown eyes, golden skin glistening with sweat from the heat of the battle and the fires around him, and a lean, but well muscled build, who was fighting the Pirates with nearly flawless skill. If she didn't know any better, she'd swear she was seeing Bootstrap Bill Turner, come back to life, fighting the undead crew here on the streets of Port Royal.
The sight of the young man, whoever he was, because surely he couldn't be her Father figure, gave Lucinda enough strength to shake off a good portion of the pain in her head, and she managed to get to her feet, where she regained her hold on her sword, throwing herself back into battle, adrenaline overriding the throbbing aches.
Apparently Lucinda wasn't the only one that caught sight of the young man. Just as she regained her composure, she saw one of the crew take aim at him with his pistol.
Rushing forward, Lucinda grabbed the man's wrist, and forced the limb down to the ground, just as he pulled the trigger, causing the round to pierce the ground, before she twisted the Pirate's arm around, then used her other to elbow him in the face.
Dodging his swing, as she turned to face him, Lucinda punched him once on either side of the face, then swiftly kicked him away, before reaching for her own pistol at her belt.
The Pirate had learned from her own moves however, and managed to snatch her wrist in his grasp, before she could shoot, then used the hold to pull her in front of him, where he secured his arm across her throat, cutting off her air supply.
Even though taking in breath was becoming difficult, Lucinda dropped her pistol, in favor of grabbing the man's forearm with both of her hands, then using the hold to lift herself up off of the ground, and force her upper body harshly back into his, before, upon landing back on her booted feet, taking advantage of his stunned state, and flipping him over her back, onto the ground.
Swiftly placing one foot on the man's neck, she pressed down as hard as she could, a snapping sound echoing throughout the nearby area, before the Pirate slumped into his temporary lifelessness.
Gathering up her sword and gun, Lucinda looked around, and found the young man now, face to face with another Pirate.
However, before she could do anything, two more of the crew ran past, carrying a chest of gold and jewels between them, and one hit the young man on the back of the head with something from it, swiftly knocking him unconscious, and causing him to fall straight back onto the ground.
Lucinda found her heart skipping a beat at the sight. She still had no plan to return to the Black Pearl, but, after seeing the young man who so resembled her beloved Father figure, at least a much younger version than the one she'd known, now unconscious and vulnerable just a few feet away, she didn't want to die anymore either.
Forgetting everything else, she ran to his side, where she fell to her knees, dropping her sword and pistol neabry.
Reaching out, Lucinda gently brushed the backs of her knuckles down the side of his handsome face, as her rich honey brown eyes flicked over every inch of it. He not only resembled Bootstrap, but he reminded her of Killian. Brave, strong, the same dark hair and beard, golden skin, lean muscled form. That would explain why she was so initially captivated by him, but what was she missing? What was it specifically that was keeping her at his side, instead of running for her life? What was it that made her vow to keep him safe, and kill anyone who tried to harm him?
Before Lucinda knew it, it was morning. She'd sat with the young man throughout the night, during which the Pirates had returned to the Black Pearl, and left, while she'd been spared from the usual being forced back onto the ship, returned to Barbossa like a piece of property.
She didn't understand. Barbossa had never left her. But here she sat, still in Port Royal, the town's occupants recovering from the Pirate attack all around her, and throughout the streets.
The only thing she could come up with was that Barbossa had gotten what he wanted. He'd found the last piece of gold, and that had been enough for him. He'd given up on her. After all these years. Was it true? She she finally free? No, not truly, at least not until he rotted in the ground. But, for now, she seemed to be safe.
So, what should she do now? She hadn't made her own choices, her own decisions, in almost ten years, and here she was, left alone in a town she'd never been to before, and she'd surely be assigned to the hangman's noose is anyone realized she'd been with the Pirates.
Looking over, Lucinda spotted her sword and pistol. She knew she'd have to abandon them if she were to play the helpless victim. So, she flicked a last glance at the young man, who'd still yet to regain consciousness, then got to her feet, and rushed over to the weapons.
Grabbing them up, she tossed them into a barrel, then checked herself over, to see if anything left on her would give her away, causing her to abandon her belt and holster as well. Fortunately, she didn't have much that was hers. She was left with the clothes she wore, Killian's ring on a chain around her neck, and her bag with the few other personal belongings she'd managed to hold onto over the years, none of which could be seen as a Pirate's belongings, as they were all from her and Jack's life with their Mother in France.
Grabbing a nearby bucket of water, she emptied into the barrel, to set the items to rust and become useless for their inevitable discovery, which hopefully wouldn't be for a long time from now, then threw some hay on top.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Lucinda turned, and began walking back over to the young man. He couldn't remain in the middle of the street, but there was no way she could move him on her own, especially given the wound of her own on the side of her head, which had renewed its throbbing now that the adrenaline had left her.
Looking around, she searched for someone who could help her. She instinctively didn't trust any of the townspeople, but she, naturally, had a soft spot in her heart for members of the Royal Navy.
All of the soldiers she could see were already otherwise occupied, though she continued her search, even as she fell to her knees beside the handsome young man once more, and instinctively laid a protective hand on his nearest arm.
Spotting an Officer heading in her direction, she could tell his rank by the fact that his uniform was blue, not red, she reached out, grabbing his hand with her own free one, as soon as he was close enough.
"Sir," Lucinda said to him, as her actions caused him to halt, and turn a gentle gaze down onto her, while the two men he'd been walking with also stopped a few feet away. "Sir, please. Would you help me get him to safety?" She nodded at the unconscious young man. "I cannot lift him on my own."
Commodore James Norrington felt himself melting at the receiving end of a beautiful young woman, who had dried blood on the side of her head, gazing pleadingly up at him, and what he should pass off to his men, he now wanted to handle personally.
"Of course, Miss," he said to her, placing his other hand overtop the one of hers grasping his other, and sending her a comforting, reassuring smile, before turning to his man. "Go on without me. I'll meet you back at the Fort."
"Yes, Sir," the red uniformed Soldiers responded, then heading off to attend to others, while Norrington returned his gaze to Lucinda.
"Are you all right, Miss?" he asked, falling to a crouch beside her, while indicating the blood on her face.
"Yes," Lucinda responded. "Yes, I'm fine. Please, help me with him."
"All right," nodded Norrington, giving her hand a gentle squeeze, before releasing his hold on it, and stepping over to the boy's other side. "Let's get Mr. Turner home."
Lucinda had just shifted to help the man get the other up off of the ground, when the Soldier's words brought her to a halt.
"Mr. Turner?" she repeated incredulously.
"Yes, my Lady," James replied, lifting his gaze from the young man to her beautiful, confused, shocked face, the sight of the emotions on it causing his own brow to furrow. "This is William Turner. He's a Blacksmith here in Port Royal. I thought you knew him."
That was it. That was why Lucinda felt such a connection to the young man. Not just because he reminded her of Killian, or because he looked like Bootstrap. But because he was her beloved Father figure's son.
"No," Lucinda said, recovering as quickly as she could from the knowledge that, of all people she'd found in this town, it was the child of the man who'd been the only Father she ever knew. "No, I simply found him, and couldn't leave him."
"That makes you a far better person than many, Miss," Norrington smiled softly, as he took Will's arm in his grasp, and placed it around his neck, then slipped his other beneath the boy and the ground. "Come now."
Taking in a deep breath, Lucinda not believing herself to be a good person by any means, she nonetheless shook off the feelings his words brought her, and began helping him gather up Bootstrap's son.
Lucinda managed to hold most of Will's weight, while Norrington opened the door to the Blacksmith's shop, then led the way in, down the stairs.
"Watch your step, Miss," James said to her, as he guided the way through the shop. "There's a small loft area upstairs where the men sleep. Let's get Mr. Turner there."
"The men?" asked Lucinda, gazing questioningly over at the Commodor. The throbbing in her head was getting worse with each movement she made, but she was too focused on Will to let it get to her just yet.
"Yes," Norrington replied. "This is the shop of Mr. Brown. He was Will's Guardian until the boy became of age."
"What happened to Will's Mother?" inquired Lucinda. She only remembered Bootstrap mentioning his wife and son once, when she found him drunk in his cabin on the Black Pearl one night, something he rarely did, despite being a Pirate, and, the next day, he was sent to the depths by Barbossa and the crew, so it was almost as if he knew of his oncoming fate, and wanted to confess to the only good thing he had in his life.
"She died when he was a boy," said James. "On the crossing from England eight years ago, we came upon a wreckage. Mr. Turner was the only survivor. We brought him back to Port Royal, put him under Mr. Brown's mentoring."
Lucinda flicked a glance around at the shop, which was a typical blacksmith store, including a donkey to power the turbines, but what wasn't normal was all the empty or half such bottles of rum around the area, not to mention the stink of the alcohol that hung in the air of the shop more than the usual smells of metal and dirt.
She hated that it looked like Will didn't either get the upbringing he deserved, just like she and Jack.
Pushing those thoughts to the side, Lucinda focused once more on getting the young man upstairs, and she and Norrington managed to lay him in his bed, which was, of course, the smaller of the two in the already miniscual room above the shop.
James stood back, while Lucinda sat down on the edge of the bed, and reached out to gently stroke Will's handsome face with the backs of her slender fingertips.
"Miss, it seems as though it still may be some time before Mr. Turner wakes up," Norrington spoke. "Why don't you come, and let me look at your wound?"
"I can't leave him," replied Lucinda with a gentle shake of her honey blond head, not even looking over at the man, as she did so.
"I won't ask you to leave the shop," answered James. "There's a small area out back where I can tend to the injury." Stepping forward, he offered the beautiful young woman one of his large hands, as well as a reassuring, comforting look, when she lifted her gaze to him. "Come now. Please."
Flicking a glance at the man's offered hand, then back up into his face, Lucinda now felt herself melting in the presence of such a kind man, something she hasn't come across since her beloved Killian.
"All right, Sir," Lucinda responded, reaching out to place her hand in the man's offered one, which he gently squeezed when she took it, before helping her to her feet.
Once up off of the bed though, she swayed, the pain and the feeling of being lightheaded finally catching up to her, but Norrington responded quickly, catching her as she stumbled, then reaching down to loop one arm beneath her knees, while securing the other across her back, then using the holds to effortlessly lift her up off of the ground.
"It's all right, Miss," he spoke gently, as he held her securely against his body, and began carrying her from the room. "It's all right. I've got you."
Lucinda felt as though she could've broke down sobbing in relief at that very moment, while she wrapped her arms around the man's neck. She had never been treated like this, like a lady, at least not since Killian.
There was indeed a small area located in the back of the shop, which was surrounded by fence, including a gate that led to the street beyond.
James gently set Lucinda down onto a barrel that was sturdy thanks to being filled with water, and made sure she was all right there, before fetching a few supplies from inside, and returning to her, offering her a gentle smile, as he prepared to tend to her wound.
"You're quite lucky, Miss," he said, while he soaked a clean cloth with water from a skin.
Lucinda couldn't help but laugh softly at that, while gazing questioningly at him. "How's that, Sir?"
"You're the only one I've come across this morning who escaped last night's attack with a mere cut on the head," explained James, before he shrugged lightly. "Aside from Mr. Turner, that is."
Moving closer, he indicated the wet cloth in his hand, then nodded at her beautiful face. "I'll be as gentle as I can, but this still may hurt a little."
"Don't worry," Lucinda replied. "I'm a lot tougher than I look."
"I have no doubt," chuckled Norrington, before he raised his free hand to gently grasp his chin, in order to hold her head steady, while using the other limb to begin cleaning away the dried blood from her skin. "Are you new to Port Royal, Miss? I don't believe I've ever seen you in town before. I know I'd remember such a beautiful young woman."
Lucinda couldn't help but blush softly, despite being well used to men telling her she was beautiful, but none were ever the type she'd like calling her such. Not since Killian had she had a proper gentlemen give her the compliment.
"Yes, Sir, I'm new in town," she quickly lied, despite it being the truth. "I've been traveling for quite some time now."
"And what brings you to our humble little Port?" asked James, pausing to re soak the cloth on a clean part, before returning to the task. "Do you have family here?"
"I don't think so," Lucinda sighed sadly, even though she considered the young man upstairs her family now. He was Bootstrap's son, after all. "Though I suppose it's possible I could. I never knew my Father."
"I'm very sorry to hear that, my Lady," replied Norrington.
"Lucinda," she said, causing the man to pause in his actions, as his eyes met her own. "My name's Lucinda."
Norrington smiled softly, before bowing his head respectfully at her. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Lucinda. I'm James Norrginton."
"It's wonderful to meet you as well, James," replied Lucinda, smiling softly in return, before the man resumed his task, while she flicked a glance down at his uniform. "What rank are you, James?"
"As of yesterday morning, Commodore," Norrinton answered with pride.
"Do not tell me I have the honor of being tended to be the Commodore himself," Lucinda responded with a gentle laugh of disbelief.
"Indeed you do, my Lady," said James, smiling softly afresh at her. "But it is I who am honored."
Finishing up, her beautiful face now clear of the dried blood, fresh thankfully barely escaping the somewhat sizable mostly sealed gaze on the right side of her forehead, near her golden hairline, he fetched a jar of salve, and opened it.
"Thankfully, the wound seems to have mostly closed on its own," Norrington continued. "I wish I was equipped to stitch it for you, but, for that, you'll have to see our Doctor. I'll speak with him personally when I return to the Fort. Until then, this salve will help prevent infection."
Dipping two fingers into the thick ivory colored concoction, he carefully spread a fair amount across the cut on her head, an action that caused her to hiss and flinch slightly in pain, while lifting one hand to gently grasp his wrist.
"I'm sorry, Miss," James sighed softly. "I know this is unpleasant."
"It's all right, Commodore," replied Lucinda, loosening her hold on his wrist. "I've had worse."
Norrington paused in his actions at this, pulling back enough to meet her honey brown eyes with his own gentle blue, as sorrow etched itself across his face. "I'm very sorry to hear that, my Lady."
Lucinda offered the man a soft smile, unknowingly still holding onto his wrist with her gentle grasp, and, without even realizing it, James began to stroke the back of her hand with his thumb, but only for a few seconds, before he caught sight of what he believed was an inappropriate action, and gently pulled his limb free of hers.
"Forgive me, Miss," he said, his pale cheeks tinging slightly pink, as he looked away from her.
"There's nothing to forgive, James," spoke Lucinda. "However, I will, if it means much to you."
"It does," James replied, smiling softly. "Thank you."
Wiping off his fingers on a clean edge of the cloth, he closed the jar of salve, then set it back down on the small table outside where he'd been placing the items.
"Where will you stay while you're in town, Lucinda?" Norrington asked.
"Oh," Lucinda answered, laughing softly, as she lifted a slender hand to tuck some hair back behind her ear. "I honestly hadn't even thought that far. But I have money, if there's an Inn you could direct me toward."
"Nonsense," James smiled, turning to face her once more. "A beautiful, lovely young woman such as yourself has no place in an Inn. Governor Swan is a friend of mine, I've known him for many years, and he has more room in his home than he knows what to do with. I'll ask him if would be kind enough to open it to Port Royal's newest resident."
"Oh, no," Lucinda responded, gently shaking her head, as her brow furrowed. "No, Commodore, I couldn't ask you to do that."
"Well, fortunately for you, I wasn't asking your permission, my Lady," James said, smiling at her once more, an action she was unable to help but return, before he offered her his hands to help her down off of the barrel. "Come now. I'll take you there myself. I know once faced with you, there's no possible way he could refuse."
Lucinda laughed softly, slipping her hands into the Commodore's, than gratefully used his offered assistance to her feet.
"I really shouldn't leave Will to wake up alone," she said.
"In which case, if it means that much to you, I'll station one of my men with him," replied James. "Especially since I truly have no idea where Mr. Brown is. Probably slept through the whole attack in an alley somewhere."
Lucinda laughed softly, the sound, and the sight of joy on her beautiful face, causing Norrington to smile in response, before he noticed something.
"Oh, one moment, Miss," he said, holding onto one of her hands, while falling into a crouch in front of her. "You've got some hay in your boot."
"Thank you," Lucinda responded, looking down, as he used his free limb to pull the straw free, which was when the man froze, causing her brow to furrow in confusion, even as her heart skipped a beat in fear, suddenly terrified she'd missed something earlier when she threw away her Pirate belongings, and he'd discovered it. "Commodore?"
"LC," said James in barely more than a whisper.
"I'm sorry?" Lucinda answered, continuing to gaze down at him in question.
"On your boots," replied Norrington, indicating the brown leather footwear. "LC."
Moving her gaze to her boots, Lucinda saw the beautiful cursive initials he was speaking of, which were her own, engraved on the facing outward sides of the cuffs on both, the footwear having been a gift from, unfortunately, Barbossa, when she outgrew the pair before them.
"Oh," Lucinda said, once more tucking some hair back behind her ear, as James rose back to his full height, his eyes almost immediately locked onto her beautiful face. "Yes, those are my initials." Suddenly a bit uncomfortable, she gently shook her head. "Commodore, why are you looking at me like that?"
"I'm sorry," James replied, giving himself a bit of a shake, as he realized how rude he'd been. "Forgive me, but. . . May I inquire as to your last name Lucinda? What does the "C" stand for?"
"Crane," answered Lucinda, as "Sparrow" was her and Jack's Father's name, which they didn't go by until after their Mother died, and they set out to search for the man. Before then, they naturally used Anne's last name of Crane.
Lucinda could never figure out why Barbossa had had "C" put on the boots, instead of "S", though she figured it was a cruel joke of his, to remind her of her true nature, that of a proper lady, and what she'd lost.
"Good Lord," James breathed in complete and utter shock. "How extraordinary."
"What do you mean?" asked Lucinda, still confused, and a fair bit uncomfortable and afraid, but, to her amazement, the next thing to cross the man's face was a smile, as well as what she could swear to be a light sheen of tears in his gentle blue eyes.
"Lucinda," James spoke, moving a step closer to her, and once more offering her his hand. "You really must come with me now to Governor Swan's home."
"Why?" Lucinda inquired, her brow so furrowed it was tugging a bit painfully on the cut on her head.
"Please," said James, nodding at his hand. "Trust me."
Lucinda flicked a glance down at his offered limb, before returning her honey brown gaze to his handsome face. She truthfully had no reason not to trust him. He'd been more kind to her in the last half an hour since they met on the street than anyone has to her in nearly ten years. And, really, what could her Mother's name mean over all this time since her death?
"All right, James," Lucinda replied, placing her delicate limb in his much larger one once more. "I'll trust you."
"Very good," Norrington spoke, as he curled his fingers around her hand, then used the hold to guide her through the back of the shop.
Once out on the street, James commandeered the first horse from one of his Soldiers' they came across, and climbed up, before both he and the other man helped Lucinda up behind him, where she wrapped her arms around the Commodore's waist, while he commanded the Soldier to stay with Will in the Blacksmith Shop until the young man awoke, before he led them through the town, and up to the Governor's mansion.
