Author's Note: Wow, it's been nearly a year since I updated, and I apologize. I shouldn't make excuses; I should finish what I've started. After receiving some reviews, I poked around my computer and found that I had written, and abandoned, half of this chapter. The very least I could do was finish it. I may have lost my touch; I've written only lab reports in the past few months. I should finish the whole story, while I'm at it. Please, enjoy, or not, this very tardy update.
Disclaimer: POTC is not mine, nor are any of the characters. Nor profit, insult, or copyright infringement is intended by me, the author of this lowly fanfic.
Gillette and Norrington crossed the deck to where the befuddled marine stood watching Adriana snivel all over his boots. At the Commodore's prompting, Gillette lifted Adriana to her knees. She sat there with tears and snot running down her face, staring at this confection of a man standing where the marine had been seconds earlier. She dragged the back of her hand across her face as he addressed her.
"Why were you hiding in that cabin, pirate? Were you intending to ambush us as your vile companions were brought to justice?"
"I'm not a pirate," she sniffed, trying to compose herself. She hated when her emotions got out of control.
"Ha!" The scorn in Norrington's voice was unmistakable. "You expect me to believe that you are not a pirate, even though you've been found on an infamous pirate ship full of pirates? What type of fool do you take me for, child?"
"I'm not a pirate. I was," Adriana struggled for the right word to convince him of her innocence, "kidnapped." She breathed a shaky sigh and wiped her eyes.
"Kidnapped?" Norrington eyed her suspiciously.
"Yes, it was terrible." She sniffed again. "I was tied up and brought aboard. They put me in a prison cell, and then I was locked in the Captain's cabin."
Norrington didn't say anything; he just pondered her words. If she was telling the truth, he'd have another crime to find Sparrow guilty of. However, Sparrow's list of offenses was already long enough to have him hanged a couple dozen times. What did one more charge matter? Even if her tale was false, Norrington didn't have the stomach to hang a woman. All he could do was hope that her story was true, and that his weakness wouldn't come around to stab him in the back.
"Lieutenant, see that the young lady gets properly situated in a cabin aboard The Dauntless for our trip back to Port Royal."
Jack had watched Norrington cross the deck to his cabin, and had strained to make sense of what little of the conversation he could make out over the noise the pirates and marines were creating. He stood on tiptoe and craned his neck to see over the bodies assembled on deck. A particularly large marine obscured Jack's view, and forced Jack to tiptoe to the left. Adriana shot him a very guilty look as she was helped to her feet by Lieutenant Gillette. He narrowed his eyes and glowered at her. The lying, sneaking wench! She had to have told Norrington some cock and bull story about kidnapping, and neglected that he had found her trespassing and thieving! Before Jack's anger could stew any further, he was ushered across a gangplank to the Dauntless. He cast one last loving glance at the tattered Pearl before going below to the brig for the voyage back to Port Royal.
Adriana saw Jack's look of hatred and disgust; she inhaled another shaky breath and wiped her nose. Lieutenant Gillette held out his arm and escorted her to the Dauntless. As she crossed between the boats, she glimpsed violently churning water tinged with the blood of those who had died. Had there been more light, she did not doubt that it would have been red. She shuddered as the thought darted through her mind. This senseless bloodbath had ended, only to shed more blood. Captain Sparrow and his surviving men would hang. Gillette cleared his throat.
"This is to be your cabin for the voyage back to Port Royal. I expect we'll arrive by midmorning. One of the cabin boys will bring you something to eat tonight, and hope you'll join us for breakfast at dawn."
"Thank you, sir." Adriana shut the door. She wasn't sure if it was the most polite thing to have done, but she didn't want to answer any more questions.
She looked around the cabin. It was lit by a single lamp, but moonlight and reflected torch light from the deck above penetrated the cabin through a single window. She crossed the room in three steps, and opened the window. She was at the stern of the ship and twenty or so feet above the water. She couldn't stay here. She shut her eyes. Who was she kidding? Even if she survived the jump and the sharks that were undoubtedly attracted to all the blood in that water, there was no way for her to get back to that cave. She was stuck here at the mercy of all those powdered and perfumed men. She threw herself on the bed and started crying again. How much more wrong could things go for her?
There was a knock at the door. She wiped her face on the blanket and opened it. A frightened boy, who looked no more than ten, stood there with a tray shaking in his tiny hands.
"Lieutenant Gillette sent me to bring you this." He raised the tray slightly.
"Thank you." She forced a smile, which she was sure looked more like a leer to the poor boy. She tried being friendly. "My name's Adriana. What's your name?"
"P-Peter, miss." He looked a little less nervous. "You're not a pirate, are you?"
She couldn't help but chuckle. "No," she smiled. "I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"Oh." Peter looked remarkably relieved. "I better get back…"
"Thank you." She took the tray from him, and he ran down the corridor.
She set the tray on the bed and sat next to it. She wasn't very hungry, but she was thirsty. There was some cold tea, which she drank. She soaked some biscuit looking thing in the tea, and forced it down. She moved the tray to the chest with the lamp, lay down on the bed, and gazed at the night sky through the open window. She could smell the lingering powder smoke, the man who slept in this cabin, the sea, leather, and the sharp, primitive, and slightly metallic scent of blood. If she listened hard enough, she could make out the screams of the men several decks below her, as they died and suffered from this evening battle. She drifted somewhere between consciousness and dreams, but did not sleep until the screams ended a few hours before dawn.