Lilliane Chapter 2
Disclaimer: I don't own POTC or Jack Sparrow sadly.
On with the story!
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The minute Lilliane woke, she let out a groan. She felt as if her head had been placed on an anvil and pounded to pieces. She struggled off the bed and dragged herself to a cracked and dirty mirror. "Oh bloody 'ell!" She mumbled at the bedraggled slob that gazed blearily back.
"Bloody Hell is right." quipped a crisply feminine voice. Behind Lilliane stood best friend and tavern maid: Marîne.
In Marîne's veins, French and Scottish blood raged and reigned. Marîne' possessed elegance and that French sense of refinement as well as a Scotswoman's rebellious spirit and fiery anger that streaked her soul.
"What're you doin' 'ere?" Lilliane sleepily slurred.
"Just decided to drop in. Heard yeh passed out yester afternoon." Marîne chirped. Too embarrassed for words, Lilliane sheepishly nodded, much to her head's chagrin. Marîne attempted to keep a straight face, but eventually she broke down into sniggers.
"Oh shut up you!" Lilliane retorted in a feeble attempt to defend her dignity. Soon she too joined in the laughter. "Oi, care to take a stroll and accept wealthy 'donations'?" she offered.
"Oh well the hell, why not?" Marîne accepted. "But we must look presentable." she added slyly. As the girls guffawed, they squeezed into corsets, slipped on low cut linen and brocade gowns, coiffed their hair, and painted their lips and cheeks with cheap rouge. After snatching two lace parasols, the couple strutted out into the bustling street of Tortuga.
