Title: The Man of the Sea.
Author: Surreysmum
E-mail: surreysmum AT gmail DOT com
Type: SLASH AU: LOTR/POTC crossover
Pairing: A/L; eventually A/L/Jack
Rating: M
Beta: the inimitable namarie120
Summary: Jack Sparrow strays out of familiar waters
Chapter 11
"Are you awake?" whispered Aragorn into the pointy ear.
"Mmm, barely," replied the Elf, yawning.
"And not before time, you slugabeds," came Gandalf's dry tones. The lovers sat up in startlement, clutching to themselves whatever bedclothes came to hand. Gandalf's image hovered disconcertingly in mid-air, one hand holding what looked like a bunch of plump, purple grapes, while the other plucked them one by one and maneuvered them past the great beard. Each disappeared with a slurp of relish.
Legolas recovered first, having grown almost used to Gandalf's sudden appearances. "How may we serve you, Mithrandir?" he asked politely.
"Oh, it is nothing much," Gandalf told them, fastidiously wiping away a little purple juice from his moustache. "I just wanted to point out that the dinner hour approaches, and your *prisoner* is in a fair way to getting himself drummed out of the village before the table can even be laid. It seems he takes a rather relaxed view of the rules of card games."
Sure enough, there was shouting going on downstairs.
Aragorn grumbled under his breath and pulled on his breeches. "I'll see to it," he said. But he could not forbear first walking over to the floating image. "Gandalf, is it really you?" he asked, putting a hand out and encountering only air.
"Well, yes and no," responded Gandalf gravely.
That made Aragorn laugh. "Yes, it's you all right! I have missed you badly, you old gaffer."
A little breeze shifted through Aragorn's untidy locks like a caressing hand. "And I you, Elessar."
Aragorn smiled hugely at the spectre, then put on a frown and the nearest tunic (Legolas' as it turned out - a little tight across the chest but it would serve). He left the Elf and the Wizard contemplating each other.
"Well, how much did you tell him?"
"Everything, of course," replied Legolas. "Surely you expected no less."
"You are right - in fact I was counting on it. How do you judge his state of mind?"
Legolas nodded gratefully. "Much improved. I thank you, Mithrandir, with all my heart."
Gandalf shrugged. "He did it himself - with your aid and that of your pet pirate."
Downstairs the shouting had noticeably subsided, and Legolas thought he could hear chastened murmurs of "Yes, Your Majesty" interspersed with the King's quiet, authoritative tones.
"Umm," said Legolas thoughtfully. "Should we expect to welcome you to our bedroom again, Mithrandir?"
Gandalf chuckled. "Nay, lad, you may play with your pirate to your heart's content without fear of any interruption from me."
Legolas flushed slightly. "But indeed, Mithrandir, you must know that our 'pet pirate,' as you call him, has said no, and neither Estel nor I would dream of compelling him."
"I should hope not," replied Gandalf severely. Then he gave his eyebrows a most undignified waggle. "I have great faith in your persuasive powers, Elf."
Legolas grew a little pinker around the cheekbones and looked down, almost missing the shimmer which presaged Gandalf's departure.
"Wait, Mithrandir!"
Gandalf obligingly paused in mid-shimmer.
"Will we see you again?"
"My work is almost done, but I will see Jack Sparrow safely back to his own place and time when the moment comes - one last sea-storm, as I told you. And then I will visit the two of you once more."
He was gone.
/-/-/-/-/
It had not been an elegant meal, but the inn food had been plentiful and tasty. Too, it had been accompanied with much liquid cheer: rum for Jack and Aragorn, and miruvor for Legolas, who had most impolitely spat out his first mouthful of rum, to the King's great amusement.
"It's an acquired taste, 'Lasse," he said.
"One you appear to have acquired," replied Legolas tartly, with a significant glance at Aragorn's fourth glass. Aragorn kicked him under the table.
Jack grinned to himself. He had never seen a more married couple. He wondered how it had been with the three of them. And since he was happily three sheets to the wind, he asked the question aloud.
Legolas tensed at the tactless reference to Arwen, but Aragorn, far from flinching, seemed to welcome the chance to talk about her.
"Arwen was our helmsman, Jack," said Aragorn, falling accommodatingly if rather tipsily into a nautical comparison. "If I was the ship's hull, carrying the burden of state through the high seas of fortune, and 'Lasse the best possible lookout, seeing far and wide from the rigging, it was Arwen who steered us all aright from the wheel."
"She was a bossy she-elf," clarified Legolas with a slight roll of his eyes at his lover's elaborate metaphor. "And we loved her for it."
Aragorn put a hand over his. "That we did, sweet."
"Hmph," Jack pondered aloud. "Well, Lizzie's got the bossy part down cold, there's no question."
"Lizzie?" enquired Legolas.
"Will's fiancée. Or wife, perchance, by now."
Aragorn's eyes lit up. "Thinking of a threesome for yourself, Jack?"
Jack pished and tushed, but there was no doubt the idea had captured his imagination. "She's a sassy little vessel, 'tis true, and more of a pirate in her own way than my Will'll ever be," he said. "But I have no reason to think she…" The memory of a firelit night on a deserted island came to his mind. "Then again, mebbe…" he amended with a private smile. That smile faded as he scratched his finger against a table that was solidly, unequivocally in Middle Earth. "Not much point in dwellin' on might-ha-beens, though, is there?" he added with a forced grin.
"Ah well, as to that…" Legolas started, and received a warning glare from Aragorn. Gandalf was surely in enough trouble with the Valar already. "As to that," Legolas went on imperturbably, "I am reliably informed that if you make a day's sail due south from Edhellond, you will encounter another storm, very like the one that brought you to this place."
Jack absorbed this information with the air of one who had seen and heard stranger things - as indeed he had. "And I take it your reliable informant is in a position to know?" He looked to Aragorn for confirmation.
"I'd say so, yes," replied the King.
Jack sighed. "Well then, no insult to yer hospitality, gentlemen, but I should collect my gold and be on my way."
Aragorn looked an inquiry at Legolas.
"I expect our messenger in the morning," said the Elf. "It is a long ride from Minas Tirith."
"Shall I arrange a room for you tonight then, Jack?" asked Aragorn, almost managing to keep a wry smile off his face.
"Aye, if you would, yer Majesty," responded Jack. "Or I can doze on a bench in the tavern if there's naught else available - I'm not choosy."
"Oh, I'm sure there'll be a room. You'll be a man of means tomorrow. I was at some pains to convince the innkeeper of that this afternoon when he was on the verge of having you tarred and feathered for upsetting his regulars."
Jack chose to take that as a compliment. "Amazing the change of manners the prospect of five hundred gold pieces will bring," he smirked.
Legolas winked imperceptibly at Aragorn. "Ah, well, Jack…" he said. "As to that amount - I'm sorry to say there will have to be a substantial discount."
"What?"
"Our bargain specified the return of the King unharmed. He is, I notice, somewhat damaged. Under the circumstances, three hundred and fifty gold pieces seems generous."
"I'd not have believed you a cheater, Elf," Jack said tightly.
"That does seem rather harsh, 'Lasse," put in the King. "It is but a trifling bruise, after all. Surely there is something Jack could do to appease you and claim the full amount?"
Jack looked back and forth between them.
"Well," replied the Elf mischievously, "there *is* something I've been wanting to do to him ever since I met him. Though he might find it something of an ordeal; definitely a test of his courage and endurance, and best undertaken without the hindrance of clothes."
"Yes?" asked Aragorn, a little too eagerly.
Jack sighed. "Et tu, Strider? What a fine team of rogues you two could be if you turned confidence men!" He got up unsteadily and balanced himself against the mantelpiece. "I told you once already that I am no whore. Not for pennies and not for a hundred and fifty gold pieces." Far from sounding angry, he merely seemed depressed, almost - if he were not Captain Jack Sparrow - close to tears.
Legolas cast a worried glance at Aragorn. Sensing he had hit a nerve, though he did not understand exactly how, he got up and joined the pirate at the fireplace. "Explain to me, Jack," the Elf demanded softly. "You are not one for over-scrupulous morality. You take what you want.."
"Aye, that I do," responded Jack with a slightly grim smile, as Legolas steered him carefully towards a large sofa.
"And you are no prude, I'll warrant."
"Not as anyone'd notice," agreed Jack, sinking down rather farther than he had expected into the soft cushions. It was no hardship to feel the hard muscle of the Elf's arm slide behind his neck as they sat. He laid back his rum-addled head.
"And yet… this is a line you will not cross, a point you will not concede," observed Aragorn, adding his own warmth comfortably to Jack's other side.
"And you want me to explain to you why I will let you buy the use of my fine ship, but not that of my worthless person; is that it?" Jack asked wryly. "A fine question from an honourable King and his noble Consort." Aragorn took a sharp breath, but Jack forestalled his retort. "I will tell you then, if you have the patience to listen to a bit of a yarn."
Aragorn signaled his assent by sitting back and resting a hand on Jack's near shoulder. The pirate closed his eyes where he lay against Legolas' arm and became aware of a most unfamiliar sensation - so unfamiliar that it took him a couple of seconds to put a name to it. Safe. That was it. He felt safe. He opened his eyes and started to tell his tale to a crack in the ceiling.
"Imagine, if you can," said Jack, "a city inhabited by many many thousands of people, all grubbing for precious space, all living so close to each other that they are constantly fractious and ill-tempered, always on the edge of committing violence upon each other. Imagine, too, that this city is just as filthy as can possibly be, the streets full of offal and rubbish, its gutters flowing with every species of human and animal waste. Imagine a people so stricken by unhealthy living, rotten food, and pernicious disease that their bodies and faces are often twisted and deformed before they have reached their prime; they look aged while still but children. Imagine, if you will, the powerful few picking their way heedlessly through this squalor, willfully deaf to the cries of anguish and need all around them."
"Eru," said Legolas, shaken, "what you describe is as bad as Mordor."
"I do not know Mordor," said Jack, "but the name sounds not unlike. The place is called London."
"Go on," said Aragorn tightly, afraid he knew what would come next.
"Imagine, if you would, a boy in this place, a boy without family or friends. His first memory is of warring with stray curs for edible scraps amongst others' leavings. He has been taken in, an object of well-meaning charity, a dozen times, and just as often has been thrown out, or has run away. It takes no time at all for this lad to discover that there is no friend can be relied upon but money, and that money in enough quantity buys that most precious gift, the freedom to do as one pleases. But stealing money is a hazardous business," (Jack's lip curled sardonically) "and if it doesn't hang ye, it can earn you a whipping at the cart's tail or, if ye can read a psalm for benefit of clergy, a brand on the thumb." He unconsciously ran the fingers of his right hand over the faint "T" on the thumb of his left. "A young lad who has miraculously survived with most of his teeth and a clear skin has other ways he can earn his keep."
Jack shrugged, seeming surprised when Legolas took the branded hand in his own. "How old were you?" asked the Elf, his face pained.
"Near as I can count it, I was about eleven when I first became an Usher of the Back Door, as the saying went. Fourteen when my protector of the moment was convicted for sodomy at the Old Bailey, and mercifully only sentenced to stand in the pillory for two hours. The mob abused him so badly he died anyway. They were merciful to me too, so they said - I was sent to serve two years in the Navy, where there were certainly many fine men who were pleased to make me their chicken and use my windward passage in exchange for a little extra food, a few pennies, and of course plenty of grog. It was mebbe a year later when we fell in with pirates, and I decided I liked my prospects better with the villains than with the heroes. 'Twas a harsh life, and I wasn't above using me looks to get something I wanted - for I was a pretty one then, believe it or no - but none of them tried to own me, and the gold and the freedom were out there fer the taking. And that, milords, is when I made a vow that I'd never be any man's whore again, not for all the gold on the Spanish Main." There was defiance in Jack's last declaration; he let go of the Elf's hand abruptly and sat up straight, away from them both.
"Neither shall you be now, Jack," Aragorn said immediately. "Truly, I am sorry we teased you; there was never any question of using you against your will, nor of withholding your gold."
"Oh, really? I seem to recall some mention of an unclothed ordeal," retorted Jack, unmollified.
Legolas leaned forward and whispered in Jack's ear.
Jack slumped suddenly backwards into the cushions, laughing in spite of himself. "That is all? Why did ye not say so in the first place? Bring it on!"
tbc