Alrightayyy loves.. thanks for all the reviews, you guys make my life complete. I am sooooooo sorry that I haven't updated recently... my computer was being an idiot and crashed... I honestly will never abandon this story – captain's honor. Welll.. you know what to do: read and review and i'll love you forever. :-)
If you want a handy-dandy, nifty disclaimer, see chappie numero uno.
Chapter Four
I studied the chest in my lap for a long moment before starting my tale. No one on my crew knew it, except those that were with me during it, and Wesley. It was strange to have to recount it to someone... an almost complete stranger at that. The chest itself, besides being the sole purpose of my coming out of hiding, was a beautiful piece of furniture. It was intricately carved with flags bearing the Jolly Roger flapping in a wooden breeze, and ships much like the Poseidon's Wrath. It almost brought tears to my eyes looking at it – so many things had been taken away from me during my life, but this one that is rightfully mine to have forever, so I was determined to get it back, no matter what it cost me.
I quickly wiped away the tears forming in my eyes, put on a brave, stony face, and lifted my head stubbornly to meet Jack Sparrow's questioning gaze. My tale was going to leak to Sparrow somehow, through my crew or someone else, a merchant or something that had heard it, but I knew that I'd much rather have him hear the real story, no elaborations and in its entirety, from me.
Jack had been studying me all the while that I was wrapped up in my personal dreamland. His head was slightly cocked to the left, his eyebrows were furrowed, and his eyes held a questioning gaze as they swept over my face and the chest in my lap. He was fumbing with the trinkets in his hair, wrapping them around his fingers and unraveling them again, making a faint tinkling noise that broke the silence that had settled upon us.
"Not many know this," I began in an accent that was now foreign to me, having not used it in years – a high-class English one, with a subtle Spanish undertone, "but I was born Gabriella Rosario Mercedes Rodriguez Leon. My mother was a governess to a wealthy English family in Port Royal. When my mother got pregnant, she married her beau at the time, a Spanish man by the name of Antonio Leon, who thought that he was my real father until his death, when I was eleven.
However, the people that spoke otherwise were actually telling the truth. You're probably wondering what the truth was, or rather, who the truth was, and I'll tell you. A wealthy, married, neighboring man of high standing had taken fancy to my mother. Obviously, he being both married and of high social status, and my mother being single, a governess, and poor, nothing could ever come of their relations. Or so they thought. Nine months later, Gabriella Rosario Mercedes Rodriguez Leon was born with features that puzzled some, and horrified others: blue eyes and the delicate features of a well-bred Englishwoman.
As a result, during my childhood I was sort of an outcast. I was a bright child, and the family that my mother worked for oversaw my education as well as that of their children, so I was fortunate enough to, like my mother, receive an education. However, when my stepfather died, my mother sent me to live with her parents, Mariel and Pedro Rodriguez, who lived on the far side of the island. I hardly ever saw my mother, or my seven other little siblings again.
My grandfather educated me in the ways of the sea, being a merchant sailor himself. I learned of ships, sailing, and most of all, pirates. I learned about the Code, Captain Morgan, Blackbeard and all of the greats. My grandfather, one day, gave me a ship that he'd hidden for seven years, and this necklace," I said, holding out the large diamond around my neck to demonstrate.
"The next day, my grandfather died, leaving me with my grandmother and a fine ship. My grandmother went to live with relations, so I decided to take my life into my own hands, for once, and get myself a crew. I would put my knowledge to good use and become a pirate. My dream was to become one of the greatest: I wanted everyone in the Caribbean to know my name, maybe even the world.
This was quite a large dream to fulfill, and I was only twenty years at the time, but I got myself a crew that would respect me, and a first mate that I trusted with my life. I pillaged and plundered my way until I got a reputation that could match your fair Black Pearl, and you yourself, Captain Sparrow. I was nearly on top, my cache of treasure was enormous, and I was living well. The only things that I needed were my ship under my feet, the helm under my fingertips, and the wind in my hair. I was finally happy.
But of course, as they say, all good things come to an end, and it certainly happened to me... in greater ways that I could have ever predicted.
To this day, I don't really know how it happened, or how I let it happen, but I had fallen in love with my first mate, Matthew Woods. He was ruggedly handsome, had a smooth as silk English accent, and I could trust him with anything, or so I thought. I had almost given him as much control over the ship as I had, which turned out to be my demise. One night, he drugged my wine at dinner and I was held captive in the brig for 3 weeks, while we were sailing toward a destination unknown to me.
Three weeks after I was initially mutinied, I was dragged out of the brig by two of my burlier former crewmembers, which was unfortunate, because if they had been scrawny I would have probably been able to stage some sort of escape. They weren't, however, because Matthew knew me all too well. I was put in shackles and dragged into a longboat, and rowed down a series of canals until we got to some sort of hut in the woods.
I was scared out of my mind, but I never once showed it, because I knew that the longer I stayed cold and unresponsive, the longer that I would live. I was dragged into this hut, and met by a woman. This woman introduced herself as Tia Dalma. She could have been beautiful, once, but now her ebony skin was scarred, and her dark eyes bloodshot. She had tangled, knotted hair, much like yours, Jack, and she wore a tattered dress. She looked at me sympathetically, which made me fear what was to come, even more than the various jars of eyeballs suspended from the ceiling.
Matthew moved toward Tia Dalma and whispered something in her ear, then dropped a large sack into her outstretched palm, probably by way of payment. With that, quick as a flash, Tia Dalma moved toward me, muttered a few words, and thrust her hand at my abdomen. I flinched and covered my stomach, involuntarily, and gasped as I looked up and saw that Tia Dalma had done something that I only thought could happen in fairy tales: she was holding a limp, ghostly form of myself. It was me, alright, down to the very last ring and trinket. My eyes were closed, and I was a misty gray color, almost like a ghost.
Matthew's cold voice broke me of my horrified reverie. "Ella, darling, did you expect anything good would come to you if you continued the life that you were living? You trust too many; you practically give yourself to people. And now look where it's got you: shipless, crewless, and soulless." As Matthew was speaking, Tia Dalma had went into a room, off of the main one, and had come back with a chest. My chest, to be exact. She neatly folded the ghostly figure, placed it in the box, and shut it. It snapped closed, and the lock, approximately the size of a colony, seemed ominous. How was I going to get around this one?
Tia Dalma handed the thick key to Matthew, who smiled in return. He dangled it in front of my nose for a moment, then snatched it away when I savagely growled and snapped in his direction. "Ella, Ella, Ella. That is no way to act towards the new captain of your ship! Why, and I was going to have you stay aboard too. You know, to have company for those long sea trips where a man gets lonely."
That was the last straw for me. I screamed and spat out, "I would never be your whore even if I was forced. You disgusting, worthless bastard." Not for the first time, I had lapsed into my proper English accent, as I did when I was threatened. "Suit yourself," he replied, and then turned to the crew. "Men, we will leave Ms. Raven a longboat and three days supplies. We will be setting out to hide this," he held out the key by way of explanation, "very, very far from here, where Ms. Raven will not find it." With a cruel smile in my direction, he and the crew headed out the door, dragging me along with them. I was thrown in a longboat with spoiled food, and the chest. Before they pushed me off, Tia Dalma came running across the beach.
Once she reached me, she whispered in my ear, "As long as you 'ave tha' chest wit' you, you will stay alive. Tha' very moment tha' it leaves yer possession, you will die. But I feel for yer, so I will tell you somethin'. Look fer Jack Sparrow." "Jack Sparrow!" I cried, "Who the hell is he? And what do I need from him?" Tia Dalma just looked at me sadly, and then I was pushed off the beach, off on my own, in a tiny longboat.
On normal circumstances, I wouldn't have survived. But these weren't ordinary circumstances. Son after being "marooned" on my longboat, I spied a ship in the distance. It was black, with tattered black sails that the sun shone through. I knew that this ship would be my only hope, so I began to plan. I started tearing up the longboat, drenching myself with water, and then I tied a rope around my waist, connecting myself and my chest. I then sprawled out on one of the boards from the broken-up longboat, faking a shipwreck.
I soon heard a man call, "Man... er... woman overboard!" I was brought up to the side of the ship, and a man walked towards me. He was enough to strike fear into the heart of any pirate, with his grizzly beard and cold, steely eyes. But I gathered what was left of my wit and turned to face him. "What be yer business on me ship, lass?" he said. "The name's Raven. Captain Ella Raven. I was mutinied by my crew and left to die," I replied, keeping it short and sweet. I decided not to provide any extra information.
"Well Ms. Raven," the captain, who I would come to know as Barbossa, said, "That be sad circumstances, fer sure, but we jus' 'ave marooned our own captain, so I 'ave no pity fer ye. Men, take 'er ta' tha' brig."
"WAIT!" I cried out, "I'll make a deal with you, captain. If I can duel you and win, you must take me to wherever I want to go, alive, well, and healthy. And when I say wherever, I mean wherever. And you have to provide me with safe passage not in the brig." In my years of dealing with pirates like myself, I had learned to explain myself in the clearest way possible, so that there were no loopholes that could possibly be the cause of my death.
Barbossa nodded. "The name's Captain Barbossa. Pintel, get the woman a sword."
With that, we began a complicated dance of twists and turns, dodging one another's swords and ducking when a blow was meant for our heads. Finally, I had gotten Barbossa right where I wanted him, and pointed my sword at his neck. I grinned evilly and said, "Do you agree to the terms I have laid out previously, Captain?" Seeing as he had no other alternative, he backed down.
Grudgingly, he turned and asked me, "Where did ye be wantin' ta go, Ms. Raven?"
"To get my love back."
&&&
Chapter 4! I'm so sorry that it took so long – stupid computer for crashing! Grrrr. Anyway, review and tell me what you think of her story so far.
-- ell.