disclaimer: I don't own them but can I have them for x-mas??
Merry Christmas my hearties, I hope you like this chapter. The DVD was inspiring but Elisabeth fans will probably hate me- I don't think many of them are lurking here anyway.
Chapter 21- one morning in Port Royal
The Black Pearl was anchored in a small cove close to Port Royal but not in sight of the town. She had arrived long before dawn, her black shape melting with the darkness of the night, all lanterns extinguished. Now she lay there in total silence except for the waves caressing her hull. Jack always said that the gurgling, splashing sound reminded him of cheerful chuckling, as if the sea was pleased to give her more than just a fleeting touch.
The entrance to her hiding place had been a difficult one, especially at night, since there were some dangerous reefs and shallows, but then again she was captained by the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow; it was one of his many mysteries. Some said he could sail a ship through the eye of a needle if necessary, claiming that his bones were carved from the same strange dark wood the Pearl was made of, and that seawater was flowing in his veins instead of blood. Though that was definitely a tad far-fetched and merely based on the imagination of superstitious sailors, Mr Gibbs didn't like to hear these rumours at all, superstitious as he was. As a result, he kept on trying to hush people, believing it was bad luck to invent any new reasons for his captain's madness as if it wasn't hard enough to deal with a mad captain anyway. Then he'd turn around to take a surreptitious swig from his flask, his constant companion, to reassure himself that everything was alright aboard the Black Pearl.
While the sun began to rise in the east, still hidden behind the Blue Mountains, Rowan snuggled up to Jack. She had pondered it over and over whether to wake him or not, knowing that if she left without a word it would definitely be the end of their relationship. On the other hand there was something she had to find out but if she told him he'd probably start to ask questions she couldn't answer. She hated to keep secrets from the man she loved and yet she had to. If only, if only, if only…
Jack wrapped an arm around her and dragged her closer, still half asleep, languidly running his fingers through her hair, murmuring in a slurring voice, "Mhmpf, what's up, luv?"
"I gotta go now."
"Nah, not now… gimme just a few more minutes. It feels good when ye're so cuddly." He flipped her over and pressed his lips on hers, hungry for a kiss. And though she replied the kiss with the same devotion, he suddenly realized what she had said. His hands stopped unbuttoning her shirt as he sat up, sighing, to give her a frown. "What did ye mean with ye gotta go? Where d'ye wanna go anyway?"
Damned, she cursed silently, it would be harder than she had imagined. If only they hadn't kissed- although the kiss had been worth all the trouble. For the first time in months it had been more than an oversexed reaction giving vent to anger and frustration, so she regretted deeply that she couldn't stay and continue what they had started. But first things first, she had promised that and she would keep her promise.
"Jack, I'm sorry… but there's something I just have to find out. Please don't ask any questions."
He stared at her half exposed breasts- it was hard to argue with a pair of tits that almost screamed to be touched, caressed, devoured… tits that were made to fit in his hands so perfectly. Actually he didn't want to argue with her at all but to suck her erected nipples until she moaned with pleasure, begging for more, and more he would give her... Unfortunately she was buttoning up her shirt now so he turned his slightly distracted mind on what she had told him. Thinking it over he surprised her by casually saying, "Alright."
Rowan gave him a puzzled look. "Alright? Does that mean ye trust me although I can't tell ye more?"
"Sure, luv." Jack faked a smile, lying without even batting an eye; he was quite good at that. But how do you come to trust someone who's keeping secrets from you? Live through a mutiny and see how the word trust becomes a lie, not completely erased from your vocabulary but almost, and exceptions merely proved the rule. He escorted her to the door, wished her luck and kissed her goodbye, glad to hear her reassuring him that she'd be back soon. He watched her leave, then he looked up to the afterdeck, knowing that Bootstrap was on guard, lurking in the shadows.
"Bill?"
"Aye?"
"Follow her."
-
Port Royal, Governor's Mansion.
Will Turner awoke before dawn like he always did; it was an old habit from the days when he had been a blacksmith's apprentice. He always had to heat the forge while Mr Brown slept it off, and he still liked to get up early. Careful not to wake his beautiful wife he rose from the bed and got dressed.
Elisabeth stirred in her sleep, missing the embrace of her husband. She opened her eyes to watch him dress and although she had seen that so often she couldn't help but admire his perfectly shaped body. He was such a handsome, strong man- the man she loved, the father of her children.
"Why are you up so early, darling?"
Will turned around to flash her a warm smile, thinking what a lucky man he was to call such a wonderful woman for his own. She was his dream come true and she looked absolutely stunning in the golden light of the new day. He hurried to kiss her gently.
"Go back to sleep, my love, I didn't want to wake you. Alas, there's work waiting for me and I want to get it done before it gets too hot."
"You work too much," she complained, even though she was proud of the reputation he had for making the finest swords in the whole Caribbean.
"I'm sorry, but I have to finish the sword for Governor Beaufort. He's waiting for it. "
"I know," she sighed, pouting slightly although she hadn't forgotten Lord Beaufort's kindness. After her father's cruel death, feeling shattered, mourning her loss, she also had had to fear that the new governor would drive them out of the house that had been her home for most of her life, but Lord Beaufort had willingly allowed them to stay as if he hadn't the heart to make them leave. He really was a generous man and a very pleasant person to live with. Actually she felt sorry for him that his family had decided to not accompany him to the Caribbean, and she was sure that he must miss his wife and daughters terribly. She couldn't imagine living a single day without her beloved husband since she already missed him when he merely went to work. "When will you be back, darling?"
Will kissed her again. "At lunch, as usual."
-
Bootstrap Bill knew that Rowan would most likely try to get to her ship, and he knew as well as she did where the Jewel Star made berth. He had talked it over with Jack, explaining the theory that had came to his mind years ago when he first had taken over the helm of the Jewel, surprised how much she reminded him of the Pearl. But then again both ships had been built by the same magician who had given them some sort of personality- they were like sisters,which had led to the conclusion that one would always know where the other one was. Then, he had wanted to use his knowledge to persuade Rowan to help Jack to get back his ship from Barbossa, but Santiago had figured him out and spoiled his plan. Fortunately, perhaps, because they couldn't have managed to deal with cursed, undead pirates like Barbossa anyway. Mayhap Santiago had saved them all from certain death by sending him to the monastery, locking him and his stupid plans away. In the end it had probably been a wise decision.
Though he didn't like the idea of spying on a friend, Rowan had left them no other chance to find out what secrets she was keeping from them. Why hadn't she simply told them where her bloody ship was so that they could have tried to get it back for her? Most certainly Jack would have come up with a mad but brilliant plan. What the hell was she up to?
After following her for a while, Bill froze in his tracks and hid behind a tree, cursing silently. There was an inn, and in front of that bloody inn some horses were tied. Blast, he had never taken it into consideration that Rowan could actually steal a horse to lose him. A horse. No decent pirate should be able to ride a bloody horse. He blamed that on Santiago's education and cursed the darn Spaniard. He would not make a fool of himself by trying to follow her example. After all, Jack had wanted him to follow her unobtrusively.
Bill mulled it over, feeling torn whether he should head into the same direction Rowan had disappeared to or to go back to the Pearl and give Jack a report. Since it was unlikely he could ever catch up with her he decided for the last- only to find out that Jack had left the Pearl shortly after him to go wherever. Of course the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow hadn't bothered to tell anyone. Sometimes he really hated calling this bastard his friend. He felt twice cheated.
-
Rowan hadn't noticed that Bill had been following her simply because she would have never expected that. She just didn't want to waste time with walking when riding was so much faster. A few minutes later she stopped the horse at a bay where a dark ship was anchored, her ship.
She shot the Jewel a longing glance, wishing she could commandeer her and sail away on her. But that would have to wait. First she had to find out for whom the bastard Belleri- or Smith, or whatever his name was- was working for. That was all that mattered at the moment.
Rowan knew the Jewel like the back of her hand, and she knew how she could get aboard unseen; there was a window through which she could slip into her cabin- or out of it. It had been sort of a game she had loved to play with Santiago since he had hated her amorous adventures, and what the eye doesn't see the heart doesn't grieve over.
Dangling at the Jewel's stern, Rowan gazed into her cabin and immediately saw Belleri- she had decided to continue calling him Belleri because he definitely looked more Italian than Englishman although he spoke without any accent. Also, he looked darn handsome; he reminded her of these marble statues of ancient Greek or Roman Gods Santiago had shown her while they had been travelling the Mediterranean. Alas, his beauty couldn't divert her from the fact that he was a damned bastard.
Belleri sat at her table, reading a letter. She reminded herself that she would have to clean her cabin thoroughly if ever she got the Jewel back or, even better, to throw away all the things his filthy hands had touched.
There was a knock on the door. He looked up; a man entered, handing him a piece of paper. Belleri dismissed him before he read the note. Apparently it was good news because he smiled brightly, and with a smile on his face he left the cabin.
This was Rowan's chance. She opened the window and slipped into her cabin. The note was still lying on the table, it read Meet me at the mansion, it's urgent. Was that by the man Belleri was working for? If so, she had to follow him. But before she wanted to check the letter he had been reading. Approaching footsteps stopped her from doing that and she had to look for a place to hide. Since it was her ship and her cabin this wasn't a problem.
Belleri re-entered the cabin, took the letter plus the note from the table and stored both in a box that he hid behind some books on the shelf. Then he left again without having noticed her.
Rowan waited for a moment to make sure he won't come back again, silently thanking Belleri for showing her his secret hiding place for suspicious letters. She opened the box, curious what she might find in there as she glanced over the papers. Bello mio… sei il mio angelo… ti amo più di tutto. Love letters. He hid bloody love letters. Rowan was a bit disappointed but she shoved the bundle of letters inside her shirt anyway. Mayhap she could read between the lines and learn something more interesting than that the bastard Belleri was loved by someone who was able to express his endless love in Italian; fortunately some parts had been in English.
She hurried to get ashore, mounted her horse and headed the same direction Belleri had disappeared to. The road led to Port Royal.
-
The forge was heated, the metal was glowing red; Will Turner raised his hammer to give the blade some heavy strokes. It was one of his best works so far but then again he used to say this with every sword he made, always improving his work. He was a perfectionist when it came to swords and he would never grow tired of forging them. It gave him satisfaction, self-esteem and pride. It also gave him a place in society that he had earned all by himself, one that he hadn't gained by marrying the governor's daughter. After all, he hadn't married Elisabeth for her position but for love, and he wanted to prove her as well as everyone else that he was very well able to make a living for his family. Meanwhile, all the people who had frowned upon their engagement had stopped gossiping since Will Turner had a reputation for making the finest swords in the Caribbean. And though he didn't have the time anymore to practice with them three hours a day he was also known to be an extremely talented fencer.
The temperature in the room increased, so Will took off his shirt, still working with great concentration when he suddenly felt being watched. He whirled around, the hammer in his hands. He didn't know whom he had expected to pay him a surprise visit but he almost breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was merely Governor Beaufort.
"Mylord," feeling kind of embarrassed he put the hammer down and faced his client with a wry smile, "I'm awfully sorry but your sword isn't finished yet, I…"
"Please," Beaufort cut him off, "dear William, I told you to call me Charles, didn't I? After all, we live under the same roof."
"Of course, I beg your pardon, Sir… um, Charles."
"No, no, I have to beg your pardon. I didn't want to startle you, and most certainly I do not want to push you. Take your time, William; take as much time as you need. I just hope you don't mind if I come here to see how you are proceeding. It is so interesting to watch you work; it seems like an art to me."
Will felt flattered. A craftsman was always pleased to hear his work was appreciated but none of his other customers showed as much interest as Lord Beaufort did. He came here often to watch him work and he would always listen attentively to whatever Will told him about the work of a blacksmith, of the best wood for the fire, the perfect temperature of the forge or the quality of the steel he used.
Of course Will Turner didn't know that a great part of Beaufort's interest was faked because it would have never came to his mind that he could visit him for more ambiguous reasons.
"No one has ever considered the work of a blacksmith as an art." Will cave to consider, "after all, it's a dirty job and it does require a certain amount of strength."
"Oh yes, definitely." Beaufort replied, scrutinizing the sweaty body of the young blacksmith all over. He was adorable, so strong and athletic, and so naïve. He didn't even know what kind of sexual fantasies the sight of him could arouse. Young William Turner was a fool to believe he had allowed him and his dreadful wife to stay in his house, the Governor's mansion, because he was a kind man. Definitely not. He had wanted to drive her and her spoiled kids out of his house, and he wouldn't have scrupled to do so despite of her recent loss… he couldn't have cared less. But then his eyes had fallen on Will and a sudden rush of desire had flashed through him, rendering him helpless and softhearted. He couldn't have possible thrown such a pretty specimen of mankind out of his house although it was hard for him to live under the same roof with an adorable young man and not being able to touch him. It was hard to see him with his wife, giving her adoring glances, kissing her; it was even harder to imagine them in bed together. He could give him so much more.
There had been times when Charles Beaufort had given no damn about what others wanted, when he had merely cared about his own needs, his own lust, taking whatever, whoever without regard of the losses. That was before he had met Angelo. Unfortunately, his beloved angel couldn't be around as often as he wished, especially not since he shared his house with the lovely Turner family.
The church bell rang. Beaufort took out a watch from his pocket to check the time. Great, he had stimulated his appetite by watching Will, he had fed his lust- now it was time to go to eat He apologized for having to leave, pretending to have a very important meeting which wasn't even a lie.
-
Jack had just moored his longboat when the harbourmaster walked up to him.
"It is a shilling to tie up your boat to the dock," he said in the snobbish, slightly bored tone of people who considered themselves superior over others, "and I do need to know" He broke off when he recognized Jack, beaming, "Oh, it's three shillings for you, Mr Smith, as usual."
"Me name's not Smith." Jack swayed a little as he turned around to look at his boat. This time he had not sunken it so the harbourmaster's request seemed reasonable to him. Nevertheless he didn't like the name Smith any longer. He placed two fingers at his chin, thinking it over. Then he shot the man a golden smile. "Me name's Sparrow."
"Of course, Mr Smith. Three shillings please."
"What say ye to four shillings and me name's Miller this time?" Jack offered.
The corrupt, greedy fellow agreed instantly. "Welcome to Port Royal, Mr Miller."
Jack sketched a bow in order to thank him before he walked off and didn't forget to pinch the harbourmaster's purse, as usual.
He had pondered it over many times where to go in the first place to settle his discrepancies with the young Turners since it nagged him more than he would ever admit that Will and Elisabeth could actually believe he was capable of committing a cold-blooded murder. They should know him better and not believe all those lies. Well, Will had the nasty habit of being too rash, too prejudiced, but Elisabeth would probably listen to him. He wanted to let her know that he had nothing to do with her father's death, so he walked up the road to the Governor's mansion. It should have surprised him to find out that they still lived there, now that there was a new governor in town, and yet he didn't waste any thought on it
Jack entered the mansion through the servant's entrance like he always did, even in times when he had been a welcome visitor. But he was a pirate, an outsider of society, and as a pirate he had never liked the idea of having a servant opening the door for him, announcing his arrival. He preferred to come and go unseen.
Elisabeth was startled to hear his velvet slur, and she turned around shocked to see him standing in her room, in her house, clearly not having expected him to be so bold as to ever come back here again, not after what he had done.
"Jack," she breathed, backing away from him, before she continued with a firmer voice. "Don't come closer or I scream."
"Lizzie," Jack raised his hands in a defensive gesture, "I'm not here to harm ye, luv. Listen to me for a minute before ye start screaming, eh? First of all- I. Did. Not. Kill your father."
"Not?" She had the decency to look puzzled as if she would at least try to reconsider her opinion about him. The shadow of a doubt flashed across her face. "But the evidences, your hat and your pistol…"
"A hat is not likely to be considered as a deadly weapon and a pistol needs a hand to hold it and shoot it but at the time in question my hands were in Lima, pinching a ring from the bishop's fat little fingers which leads to the conclusion that I can't have shot yer dear daddy. Despite my outstanding reputation it's hard for me to be in two different places at the same time."
"Who was it then?"
"Think 'bout it, luv- who took advantage of good ol' Weatherby Swann's demise and popped up just in time to claim the vacant position as Port Royal's new Governor…"
"No," Elisabeth hissed. She had almost started to believe Jack but his untenable accusations were intolerable, "you despicable pirate, you cannot possibly think Lord Beaufort capable of committing such a horrible crime! He's a kind man, a gentleman…"
"Well, I didn't say he dirtied his own hands, did I?"
Elisabeth slapped him hard across the face and she even would have slapped him twice if he hadn't been faster; Jack grabbed her hand in midair. "Now, now, that's not very nice, Lizzie."
"It's Mrs Turner to you!"
Although she was close to a dangerous, infamous pirate she didn't show any fear but glared at him with defiance. She knew he wouldn't hurt her because he was without doubt attracted by her like a part of her was secretly attracted by him; she knew it by the way he looked at her, smiling slightly, admiring her beauty, her courage, her fierce temper. Then he just let go off her.
"Well, Mrs Turner, " he said in a mocking tone, "if ye loathe to hear the truth 'bout Randy Charly I won't disturb ye any longer. I'd be much obliged though if ye were so kind as to hand me back me effects; me hat and me pistol please."
That moment she really hated him and his cocksure ways. So he had the nerve to accuse her of loathing to hear the truth while he was about to run away instead of facing the charges against him, clearly not being interested in proving his innocence.
"I'll fetch them for you," Elisabeth offered, smiling sweetly at Jack although what she had in mind instead was to give him a chance to prove that he was a good man. She quickly left the room and locked the door.
-
Rowan had almost lost Belleri in the streets of Port Royal but then she saw his horse trotting up the road to the Governor's mansion. She took up pursuit again and noticed that he didn't enter the estate through the main gate like an official visitor would have done. Instead, he followed a small path that led along the wall surrounding the estate, until he reached a gate. There he dismounted and tied up his horse on a mango tree.
Rowan waited a few minutes before following him through the gate, entering the garden of the mansion. She hoped he wasn't just here to have a romantic date between rose bushes because that would really suck, a complete waste of time. But fortunately he headed straight towards the house which gave room for more interesting speculations. If he wanted to meet the Governor why was he stealing himself through the garden? That could mean he was on sort of secret mission and didn't want to be seen- or he was having an affair with one of the maids working in the mansion. She sighed, not happy that her thoughts kept on running in circles. No, she decided, a maid was ruled out since she couldn't write glowing love letters half in Italian, and besides, it was probably too much below Belleri to have an affair with a simple maid. So perhaps a noblewoman, the Governor's wife or daughter? Damned, she really hoped it was more than this he had come here for; she needed to know who was behind his evil deeds, who had instructed him, paid him.
Belleri slipped into the house through a back door but Rowan didn't want to follow him inside so she was back to spying through windows. The first few rooms she looked into were empty except for a servant polishing the silver. In the next room she saw two children with their nanny. Rowan was surprised to recognise the girl as Lydia, the Turner's spoiled daughter. Now that was interesting- so Will and Elisabeth were still living here although there was a new Governor in Port Royal? Once again the thoughts were spinning in her head, returning to the question with whom Belleri was having an affair. Elisabeth? She should have checked the name the letters were signed with but she had missed that and now there was no time for it. It was hard to imagine Elisabeth betraying her beloved Will but then again she liked dark, handsome men, and Belleri was a darn handsome devil. Just like Will- and Jack. Rowan was well aware of the fact that Elisabeth fancied Jack to a certain extend, she had seen the way she glanced at him when she thought no one noticed. Although, it wasn't really Jack himself she fancied, more the romantic, idolized idea she had of pirates, the pirates she had read about in her books. To her piracy was only exciting if the pirates behaved decently, morally faultless, didn't drink rum and took a bath… but it didn't get into her head that you don't waste valuable drinking water for personal hygiene when you're in the middle of the ocean; she was just a rich little bitch who wanted to play pirate.
Rowan walked on without discovering anything of significance until she came to the servants wing, a number of almost claustrophobic small chambers furnished with two or three plain beds and hardly any space to move. Here, the windows were unglazed since glass was expensive; wooden shutters kept off the heat of the day. Unfortunately, these shutters also kept Rowan from looking into the rooms, so she was about to give up when she suddenly heard a low voice murmuring something unintelligible, suppressed groaning, heavy breathing. She moved closer to the window. The shutter was half open so that she could spy into the room- and she swore she'd shoot them if she merely saw two copulating servants.
She didn't. Instead she was greeted with a more pleasant sight, the naked backside of a god. Alright, it's wasn't really a god but a divine looking man, Antonio Belleri. How could such a mean bastard look so goddamned good? Though she definitely loved Jack, she couldn't help but admire his perfect body and she almost envied the one he kissed with passionate ferocity. Who was she? Rowan could only see a few wisps of blonde hair and strong hands trailing down Belleri's back, grabbing his bottom tightly, dragging him closer. This was really hot! There was something weird about these hands but it was nevertheless absolutely hot.
"Oh Angelo, bello mio," the blonde one groaned with a voice hoarse of arousal, and it wasn't what you would call a typical female voice.
"Oh Mylord!" Belleri breathed in response, "I missed you so much… take me now… please take me hard."
Suddenly the scales fell from Rowan's eyes. So that was the reason why she hadn't managed to seduce Belleri in Bombay- it hadn't been her in particular that he had rejected her but because he simply preferred men. She called herself a stupid git since that idea had never crossed her mind, and she definitely wasn't that green when it came to sexual practices. Nevertheless she had to sit down now, confused for a moment and unsure whether she really wanted to watch this, them. Leaning her back against the wall she tried to rearrange her thoughts. So apparently Belleri's secret lover was a man. Well, she wouldn't condemn him for that- there were other things, more relevant ones to condemn him for- and besides, her motto was to love as you will, as long as both agreed. But who was he? She had a suspicion, and she didn't like it at all.
A knock at the door startled her and she jumped up to see Belleri and his lover drift apart.
"Lord Beaufort? I beg your pardon, Sir, but I assume you might want to know that Sparrow is here, in this mansion."
Bloody hell, Rowan thought, so she had suspected right and this man was really Charles Beaufort, the new governor of Port Royal… Randy Charly, as Jack and Bill called him. She didn't know what she had expected him to look like- perhaps more like a fat old fart chasing innocent boys and less like a man still attractive for his age; his body was in a peak condition (well, you have to look after yourself if you want to screw a god)- but she definitely didn't like the idea of Jack being anywhere around this fellow.
"Sparrow? Lock all the doors, I'm coming!" Beaufort hastily rearranged his clothes to show no treacherous signs of his secret encounter, then he headed to a closet- not to the door. Before he vanished in there, he turned around to roughly kiss Belleri goodbye. "I'm so sorry, Angelo mio amore- but finally, ah finally… scamper now, and meet me at the front door just in case I might need the help of a certain Captain Smith. Be careful though."
"I will."
Lord Beaufort sighed, "Ah, I just can't wait to see this damnable pirate swinging from the gallows."
Rowan had heard enough. She cursed Jack for being so daft to walk right into the lion's den without considering the dangers, but it would be pointless to try and warn him because it was unlikely that she'd find him in time. Also, he probably had some sort of plan… and she couldn't blame him for not telling her when of the two of them she was the one who kept secrets in the first place.
Feeling a bit torn about what to do next she decided that Jack could do quite well without her-after all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow, the man who had sacked Nassau Port and vanished from under the eyes of seven agents of the East India Company; he could handle any situation. Rowan, however, didn't want to risk the life of someone who was not so lucky to have such a reputation, such dubious skills, and she knew it would probably spoil her plan if Belleri discovered two horses where he had tied up just one. So she'd better scamper now and cover her tracks because she didn't want him to know he was being observed; she wanted to lull him into a false sense of security. And she had to find the intermediary for sending messages to McCoy… she needed him now. Finally, all the all the pieces of the puzzle seemed to fit together.
Rowan scurried through the garden and reached the horses before Belleri could, then she rode back to town in search for a tavern called The Blue Anchor.
-
Being locked in a room was probably not so bad as it seemed given that said room was in the same house Randy Charly lived in; it almost gave Jack a feeling of security. On the other hand he knew that Elisabeth was most likely trying to cheat him- he had seen it in the way her eyes had changed, growing cold and calculating, not reflecting her sweet smile. Ah, the bittersweet smile of betrayal… she couldn't fool him though. He knew she would rather fetch her dear friend Beaufort than his hat and pistol, so it was time to take a leave. Jack arched a brow at the door wondering whether he should pick the lock or simply vanish through the window; he chose the window. Why did she believe she could keep a sparrow in a room with unbarred windows? Stupid wench.
He landed in bed of roses. The thorns stung, but not as bad as her attempt to backstab him. Nevertheless Jack shrugged it off as indifferently as he brushed off the rose petals from his clothes, pretending not to care. After all, she had merely done what seemed to be alright for her, nothing's wrong with that; he couldn't expect more. He made his way to Will's smithy knowing that this wasn't a wise decision either, but well, he still had a soft spot for the whelp.
William Turner junior definitely held no love for pirates, that he made unmistakably clear as soon as Jack entered the blacksmith's forge.
"Charles, is that you? Your sword is ready."
"I swear, Will, it'll do ye no good to be overly familiar with Randy Charly," Jack chided him in a teasing tone.
"Jack Sparrow, you bloody bastard!" Will whirled around, the sword in his hands. Without hesitation he attacked the pirate, taking him by surprise.
Jack stumbled backwards, seeking cover. Though he had not expected to get a warm welcome he hadn't expected such a hostile attitude either. He unsheathed his own sword. It wasn't his intention to harm Will but he had to defend himself.
"D'ye think it's wise boy, crossing blades with a pirate?"
In response Will launched another attack at him. Jack parried it and they exchanged a series of quick blows, their blades flashing and ringing. It was obvious that Will had improved his skills since they had fought in Mr Brown's old smithy.
"Blast, ye shouldn't have that much time to practice with these fancy swords ye're making, now that ye're a married man," Jack gasped, having trouble to match Will. "Doesn't Lizzie let ye do it?"
It wasn't wise to infuriate Will even more than he already was, as Jack soon learned. The next blow came with such a brutal strength that it shook his arm from the fingers to his shoulders, rendering it numb for a moment. He lost his sword.
"The reason why I'm still practicing every day is to protect my family from despicable pirates like you!" Will hissed contemptuously as he knocked the pirate to the ground.
Jack managed to roll over before the whelp could hack him into pieces. He tried to grab for the hilt of his sword but Will kicked it out of reach while at the same time stepping at his hand. Jack hauled up his leg and flung it in the hollow of Will's knees, sending him to the floor, then he jumped to his feet. Hastily he increased the distance. This wasn't even half as much fun as his first encounter with the young Mr Turner.
Will beat him in reaching the door, and now he was armed with two swords, driving Jack backwards to the furnace. Frantically he groped for a weapon, any weapon, when his fingers got hold of a hammer. He threw it at Will who, out of reflex, tried to fend it off by raising his sword. The force of the impact disarmed him even though he still had one sword left. Jack picked up the dropped blade when suddenly he noticed his hat lying on Will's workbench.
"Oh, mightily kind of ye, mate, taking care of me hat while I was away."
He reached for it but Will snatched the hat from his hands and flung it into the furnace. Jack yelped and hurried to save it from the burning fire; unfortunately it was way too hot so he drew back his hand.
"Being kind was not my intention!" Will snarled as he grabbed the pirate by the collar in an attempt to shove him completely into the furnace.
Jack panicked when he smelled burned hair and he started to hit and kick out wildly all around him. No, this really wasn't fun anymore. Somehow he must have hit the whelp hard because he finally let go off him. Jack scampered to get away when he heard the familiar sound of a pistol being cocked. He turned around to stare in disbelief at Will who actually had the nerve to threaten him with his very own pistol.
"This shot is meant for you!"
Jack raised his hands and shrugged. "Yer funeral… shoot me if ye want but I mightily doubt that this will help ye to gain yer daddy's affection."
He knew he had hit a sore point, he could tell it by the look on Will's face. So the real reason for his entire wrath was based on the fact that Bill had decided to go pirating with him, leaving his son once again. Yet, he had no time to ponder it over. Although Will chose to not shoot Jack he flung himself at the pirate with an angry roar. They crashed through a window and onto the street.
Will caught himself sooner than Jack; he grabbed him by the throat and pressed him hard against the wall of the smithy.
"Shut your bloody mouth!"
Jack was clearly not in a position to say anything, he couldn't even breathe. Will held him in a vice-like grip, constantly increasing the pressure on his throat as if he wanted to crush it. His vision blurred. Damned, that was definitely not the way he had wanted to die, throttled by an unreasonably jealous blacksmith. But he was outmanoeuvred and the lack of air made it hard for him to think properly; he saw stars flashing up in front of his eyes.
Suddenly he heard a familiar voice barking forcefully, "Let go of him! Immediately!"
"What if I don't?" Will sneered as he increased the pressure on Jack's throat once more. "Will you shoot me then, father?"
"Don't risk it!"
The sound of a pistol being cocked told him that Bootstrap Bill was damned serious about his request and would probably stop at nothing, so he finally let go of Jack, who collapsed at his feet, coughing, gasping heavily for breath. It was funny that even a legend could look small and vulnerable. Will kicked out at him contemptuously.
Bill pushed aside his son and stepped between him and Jack, the pistol still in his hands, still aiming at Will. "I don't want to shoot ye- but harm a hair of his head and I might feel tempted."
"You seem to have forgotten where you belong, father."
"I know exactly where I belong, that's why I'm here, standing between you and Jack." Bill didn't dare to take his eyes off Will in order to see how Jack was faring but all the coughing and gasping didn't sound too well. "Easy, mate," he told him gently, "try to breathe slowly…"
"You always cared more about Jack than about me, your own flesh and blood!" Will accused him furiously foaming.
"Honestly, William, don't ye think that yer jealousy is a tad out of place here? I do care 'bout ye as much as ye care 'bout me, but Jack is me friend and I won't let ye kill him. He's like a brother to me."
"Aye," Jack rasped as he came stumbling to his feet, using Bill as a support for his slightly battered state, "unrelated brothers… ye don't 'ave to call me Uncle Jack."
Bill smiled wryly. So Jack was alright and hadn't lost his humour. Good. Will, however, shot him a look that could kill.
"Despicable pirates," he snarled, "peas in a pot you are- have you forgotten all that I did for you, father? I asked Governor Swann to grant you clemency and he gave you a full pardon for all your crimes committed in the name of piracy so that you could live with us, your family. We gave you a home, Elisabeth and I, and yet you prefer him over me?"
"Yep." It was just a single word that slipped over Bill's lips, unintentionally, although it was the truth. He knew that it wasn't fair but then again it wasn't in the nature of truth to be fair.
"I truly loathe you, father." Will spat out the last as if it was something vulgar, a swear word, and though he had addressed Bill, he still blamed Jack for all the things that had gone wrong in his youth, glaring daggers at him.
"Well, I can live with yer loathing, but I can't" Bill bit his tongue before he could say anything that would hurt his son even more, and he also stopped Jack from having his say by stretching out his arm in order to keep him in the background, safely behind him. The sound of approaching footsteps, the footsteps of redcoats roaming the town in search for an infamous pirate captain, spared him from continuing this unfortunate conversation. He turned his head slightly towards Jack. "I'd say we ought to take a leave now."
"Aye." Jack nodded. Though he could finally breathe again his throat still felt as sore as if he had gargled with razorblades; he could hardly swallow and speaking was even worse. He really longed for a drink. Alas, that would have to wait.
Bill grabbed his arm and dragged him along while at the same time keeping a sharp eye on Will, not trusting him to let them vanish that easily. And he was right since Will didn't hesitate to give them away as soon as there was no longer a pistol pointed at him.
"Hold the pirates!" He shouted before he called for his friend, Commodore Richard Morrison. "Rich, they're here, hurry!"
Jack and Bill ran along the streets of Port Royal, followed by a group of soldiers. They were heading for the docks but then they took the wrong turn. Jack froze in his tracks when he noticed that they were in a blind alley… and the redcoats were hard on their heels.
"Oh bugger!" He cursed the town for having changed that much since the earthquake.
"No, don't worry. C'mon." Bill said encouraging as he led him to a small house.
A little bell jingled when he opened the door and entered a dim room that smelled of herbs mixed with another scent. There were dried herbs hanging from the ceiling while others were stored in glasses crammed in huge shelves; the glasses were labelled but Jack couldn't read what was written on then, and after taking a closer look he didn't even want to know. Not all of them contained herbs. In one glass were some chicken claws and in another something that looked like tiny ears. Grimacing he turned to Bill when he saw this thing dangling in front of his nose.
"Is that really a dried bat?"
"Aye. She also sells pulverized elephant testicles- not that I'd need it."
"Why should someone need… oh, sure, big and strong." Jack coughed; his voice still sounded hoarse. "Who's she?"
Bill walked behind the counter and to the backroom of this weird drug store, where a very old lady sat, smoking a pipe.
"Madame Sing."
"Great, I can always trust ye to find a slant eye."
Bill exchanged a few words in Chinese with the old lady, then he turned to Jack again. "She says she feels honoured to let us escape through her backyard."
Jack put his hands together and sketched a bow to emphasise his gratitude. Madame Sing flashed him a toothless grin while exhaling sweet smelling rings of smoke. He remembered the scent, it was opium.
Suddenly she rose, staring at Jack's throat. Murmuring something unintelligible she gestured him to wait, shuffled to the front room, rummaged through the shelves and came back with a small bag of medicine which the handed Jack. He didn't know whether to be grateful for this dubious gift or not.
"Ask her if it contains any private parts of dead animals," he whispered to Bill but his friend just chuckled and reminded him that it was time to leave.
They scampered through the backyard and climbed over a fence into the garden of another house from where they reached an alley leading to the docks. The whole town was up in arms, teeming with soldiers on patrol. It didn't take long until some redcoat spotted the two pirates.
Jack reached for his sword and had to notice that he must have lost it during the fierce encounter with Will, so he took Bill's, while Bill unceremoniously stopped the soldier from giving them away with a quick karate chop. Jack shrugged, tossing back the sword to his friend and helping himself to that of the unconscious fellow.
It seemed almost impossible to reach the docks since there were soldiers everywhere, in every street that led to the waterfront, and though they managed to escape most of the patrols, their luck didn't last forever. At a square close to the docks their pursuers caught up with them, circling them in from every direction. They were trapped. The soldiers outnumbered them by approximately twenty to one and they seemed to be highly motivated to seize the two pirates.
Though Jack would always chose negotiating over fighting he knew that he couldn't talk himself out of it this time, and he definitely did not want to become Beaufort's prisoner. The mere idea of it sent shivers down his spine.
Suddenly he heard the clatter of hooves on cobbled stones and a horse appeared in full gallop, racing through the crowd of soldiers, causing chaos amongst them. Jack grinned proudly.
"Ah, that's me woman."
Rowan reined in her horse and jump off the saddle, shooing the horse away. "'ello boys."
"Hold the pirates!" Commodore Morrison's voice rang over the tumult, calling his soldiers back in line.
They headed towards the pier where Jack had moored his longboat, followed by a crowd of redcoats. But before they could reach it the way was blocked by a very grim looking Will Turner. He had figured out where Jack would go and he seemed seriously determined to stop him, aiming his blade at him.
"I won't let you pass and escape justice."
Jack, Bill and Rowan unsheathed their swords simultaneously. Behind them the soldiers were getting closer.
"My, what's wrong with the whelp? Does he really think he can stop us?" Rowan murmured puzzled.
"He's a tad pissed off… that's why 'is mind might be slightly clouded."
"Ye sound horrible, darling."
That very moment a carriage arrived and Beaufort got out of it, looking around. His lips twitched, curling up to a malicious smile when he spotted Captain Jack Sparrow trapped. He rubbed his hands. The soldiers were waiting for his orders.
Jack became visibly nervous, whispering. "Oh bugger, bugger, bugger… we could use a"
"Will!" Elisabeth shrieked as she left the carriage although Lord Beaufort had strictly ordered her to stay inside. But she couldn't sit back and wait when she had to see that her beloved husband was threatened by three pirates.
"A hostage," Bill completed Jack's sentence, "a sort of leverage…"
The three pirates exchanged quick glances, knowing what they had to do. When Elisabeth came running for Will, Bill blocked her way and chased her in Rowan's direction who grabbed her by the arm, hurling her towards Jack. Using her as a shield he pressed his pistol at her temple. He had to admit that this scene was somehow familiar to him and not quite as unique as he might have wished, but on the other hand this old trick still worked tremendously well. The whole incident had taken merely a few seconds, but when Jack cocked his pistol it sounded unusually loud. He noticed that the soldiers had gone absolutely quiet, insecurely staring from Beaufort, who had given order to open fire just before the pirates had caught Elisabeth, to Commodore Morrison, who immediately barked, "Hold the fire!"
Don't mind the bitch, open fire, Lord Beaufort thought but then he glanced at young William Turner and changed his mind, blaming it on his soft heart. Although he didn't give a damn about Mrs Turner he simply didn't have the heart to see pretty Will grief-stricken, mourning the loss of his wife. Tears wouldn't look good on such a handsome face. So he confirmed Morrison's order in repeating it. "Hold the fire!"
The chances had improved for Jack and his friends. Taking hold of a very unladylike cursing Elisabeth between them they passed Will, who had of course lowered his blade. There was glowing hatred in his eyes when he looked at Jack.
"I promise I won't harm her," the pirate hurried to offer but Will cut him off.
"Sparrow, I swear I will hunt you down and kill you- no matter where in the world you're trying to hide, I will find you."
"Calm down, William, we're not intending to harm yer wife. We just wanna get away from here safely, and then we'll let her go."
Will glared at his father. "You're making a big mistake, sticking with him," he spat out at Jack, "he doesn't care half as much about you as you care about him; sooner or later he will let you down because the only person Captain Jack Sparrow has ever cared about is himself."
Jack wanted to say something but Bill beat him to it. "Believe what ye want and now excuse us please; we gotta go."
"Will!" Elisabeth gasped desperately when Bill shoved her forward and Jack dragged her along with him, heading for the longboat.
"Elisabeth!" Will shouted, sounding as frantic as if he would never see her again although the pirates had merely intended to keep her hostage until they were safely out of Port Royal. He felt so helpless; there was nothing he could do to stop the bloody pirates from abducting Elisabeth without risking her life. His helplessness turned into frustration and then into anger. "I don't have a father anymore! Do you hear that, William Turner? You are the biggest disappointment of my life! I truly despise you! You, and your pirate brother, and his red-haired whore- I will kill you all!"
Commodore Richard Morrison appeared behind Will and put a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "Calm down, please. I know how hard this is for you, but listen and believe me that we will do everything possible to bring back your wife. I have already given orders to get the Dauntless ready to sail"
"I want to come along." Will interrupted him. "I have to come along. You cannot expect me to stay behind and wait."
"Of course," Morrison agreed. "You are always welcome to join me aboard the Dauntless."
Will breathed a sigh of relief. Unlike Commodore Norrington, Rich did not try to remind him of his place, like pointing out that he was neither a sailor nor a soldier but merely a blacksmith; unlike Norrington he was a real friend who understood his need to save the woman he loved more than his life.
At the same time Lord Beaufort held a secret conversation in his carriage, talking over his plan with a certain Captain Smith, his favourite choice for solving difficult situations that required more specific efforts than just blindly abiding the laws. Actually he was a man who liked the bend the laws in order to set up his own.
Circling an arm around his companion's waist he breathed into his ear. "You know what you have to do, don't you mio bello?"
"Aye, Mylord. I will put out to sea immediately, bring you the head of this damnable pirate and I certainly won't waste a thought about the well-being of that wench called Mrs Turner."
"Very well," Beaufort leant in closer to take claim of Captain Smith's lips, kissing him passionately. "Oh Angelo, mio Angelo… hurry now and come back soon, I already miss you."
Meanwhile the pirates had reached their longboat and boarded it. Elisabeth protested constantly about having to accompany them and no one really wanted her to come along, but alas, Bill was right when he pointed out that the cannons of Fort Charles would probably blast them if they didn't keep her a little longer.
"You promised to let me go when you're safe." She complained, pouting, addressing Jack who rolled his eyes heavenwards before he glanced at his feet and then over his shoulder.
"We're not safe yet."
Bill picked up the oars and started rowing, assisted by Rowan. She was already quite fed up with Elisabeth bitching all the time.
"Did ye have a nice time in Port Royal, luv?" Jack asked her, completely ignoring Elisabeth ranting and raving.
"Aye, darling. At least I had a better time than you, as it seems." Rowan replied sweetly.
"Did ye succeed in finding out what ye intended to find out even though ye obviously can't tell me what ye found out if ye did?" Jack looked at Bill in a silent question, but Bill just shook his head. He had almost thought so. They still didn't know what secrets Rowan was keeping, and she only admitted that she had been quite successful. Probably she would have given away more if Elisabeth hadn't tried to get on everybody's nerve.
"Oh shut up, will ye," she hissed at Elisabeth, wishing for something to gag her with. Then she noticed that they were finally out of range of Port Royal's cannons. "As it seems we're safe now. D'ye wanna get off? I'm sure the sea's pretty warm today…"
Elisabeth shot her an indignant glance. "You are disgusting. Don't think that just because you are a woman justice will spare you the noose. You will be swinging from the gallows next to Jack when the Royal Army gets hold of you."
"Ah, Lizzie, ye're forgetting a very important thing, luv- there's no getting hold of Captain Jack Sparrow."
"You could prove you're a good man and let me go."
Jack looked around. "Do we have a parrot here or is she just not getting it?"
"Sail ho! Man over board!" Parrot screeched a cheerful welcome from the yardarm as the longboat came alongside the Black Pearl.
Mr Gibbs was glad to see his captain back but he blanched a bit when he saw Elisabeth, although he greeted her politely.
"Capt'n, it's frightful bad luck"
"I know." Jack wasn't happy about Elisabeth's presence either but the Dauntless was leaving port so she was to stay with them a little longer. The Dauntless would not give them a broadside knowing that Mrs Elisabeth Turner was aboard.
"ALL hands on…" he started coughing, his voice had broken down. Mr Gibbs patted his back but that didn't improve his voice. "Alright, ye give the orders, ye know what has to be done with the sails and all that stuff. I'm in me cabin drinking Chinese tea with testicles and other parts of dead animals."
Jack handed the small bag Madame Sing had given him to a passing pirate and instructed him to boil him a tea before his aching throat killed him. Bloody whelp- he didn't mind being attacked, offended, almost throttled and all that but being forced to willingly drink tea was too much; he wouldn't forgive Will for that. On the other hand it troubled him how things had turned out between father and son.
Bill entered the cabin, bringing him a steaming pot of tea. Jack gave it a suspicious glance.
"How well d'ye know Madame Sing?"
"Well enough to know she won't poison ye."
"That's not what I wanted to know."
"I hope ye're not indicating I could have…"
"Nah, I was just wondering 'bout dragons- or, to be more precisely, chasing them."
"Oh," Bill didn't pretend to not know what Jack was about, and he didn't lie either. But he blushed a little when he admitted it. "'twas me only escape from the boredom of a conservative life; sweet opium dreams to bear narrow-minded intolerance."
Jack shrugged, and changed the topic. "Well, 'bout yer son, ye shouldn't"
"Blast!" Bill cut him off in a furious tone. "If ye're trying to tell me I'm a miserable father- forget it! I bloody know that."
Jack backed away, grimacing and protecting his throat. "Don't throttle me…"
"Sorry," Bill slumped into a chair and buried his head in his hands, rubbing his temples. "I didn't want to shout at ye. Ye're not to blame. I made my decision a long time ago; I did choose a life at sea with ye over Will and saying anything else would merely taste like a lie. I tried to live with him and started chasing the dragon again." He rose from his chair and fetched a half full bottle of rum, pouring a glass for Jack. "Here, for medical reasons."
Jack gulped down the rum before he greedily begged for a refill, but Bill had already finished the bottle. He arched a quizzical brow at his friend. "And what was that for?"
"Medical reasons. Out of the two of us I'm the doc, so I'm also the one who decides upon the dose. And I just needed that."
Elisabeth was sitting on the stairs leading to the afterdeck when Jack left his cabin. He sighed and prepared himself for trouble.
"Jack, I always thought that I could trust you, that we're friends…"
"Ah, so that's the reason ye locked me in that room, because we're such dear friends ye never wanted to lemme go again."
"I wanted you to do the right thing. You said you didn't kill my father so I wanted to give you a chance to prove it, to show you're a good man."
"A chance? By locking me in?" Jack put a finger to his chin as if he was thinking hard. "Strange, that reminds me of the chances the Royal Navy gives a young man to become a good sailor by press-ganging him into service."
"Ha, you have the nerve to question the methods of the Royal Navy- honourable men who protect our King and country - but you don't scruple to abduct a mother of two children?"
"When did I… oh, um… Lizzie, dearie, I already told ye- repeatedly- that I merely needed yer help to get out of Port Royal safely. Savvy? Since we're such good friends ye should be inclined to acquiesce in my request."
"You bloody pirate! You abducted me, you threatened my life and that of my husband, you refuse to let me go..."
Jack breathed a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes. So we're back to that again, he thought enervated, looking for Mr Cotton's parrot. The macaw sat on the rail, cocking his head. "Parrot, would ye please be so kind and tell Mrs Turner what I just told her."
"Walk the plank," the bird screeched.
"Great." That reminded him of Rowan's suggestion. "Guess the sea's still pretty warm."
He turned his back on Elisabeth but she wasn't done with him yet. She jumped to her feet and stopped him from walking away. "You're despicable. You lack any sense of honour and decency, you only think about yourself and act on selfish impulse. I give you the chance to do the right thing but you chose to ignore it. Why is it so horrible for you to show you're a good man? Do you fear that doesn't coincide with your infamous reputation? Now don't be so selfish and think about Lydia and little Willie. Do you really have the heart to rob them of their mother? I want you to want to do the right thing and let me go free. Take me back ashore."
Gibbs was right- having a woman aboard was definitely frightful bad luck; Jack could underline that. Especially if said woman wasn't getting what he was about or refused to understand him. Her condescending way of treating him, of talking about honour and what a good man should do as if she knew it all pissed him off tremendously, and he was really fed up with repeating the same things over and over again. He absolutely had no intention to keep her aboard longer than necessary and of course he would let her go free as soon as possible. Also he didn't agree that trying to survive was acting on selfish impulse. But since there simply was no reasoning with her he just shot her his trademark smile and said in a low voice, "Well, persuade me, luv."
Jack didn't know what he had expected. Actually he didn't care at all as long as he didn't have to keep on talking- so much especially about accusing him of having threatened her beloved Will since the whelp had definitely left his mark on him and not vice versa. But he sure was more than just a bit surprised when Elisabeth suddenly started smiling at him, fluttering her lashes. Did she really give him flirtatious glances? Well, anyway, this was better than her bitching.
"Jack, please…" she breathed, moving closer, "don't you want to know what it feels like to be a good man, to be admired or even loved. Do you want to know what it tastes like?"
He could have replied that he knew it but then again he was just a man, a pirate, and she was definitely flirting with him. It didn't leave him cold. She turned him on and he wanted to know how far she would go to persuade him.
Elisabeth flung her arms around his neck, taking him by surprise when she pressed her lips on his. Well, he didn't mind a little kiss. He let it happen, knowing that hardly any woman could resist the charm of Captain Jack Sparrow. Then she tried to devour him and the kiss began to taste foul, deceitful, manipulative. He stepped backwards and she followed him without breaking the kiss… actually it was more like her forcing him to step backwards… What was she up to? Ten steps to the main mast; he knew his ship innately, every plank, every rope… one, two, three… Her hands were at his belt, fumbling. Unless she didn't want to tear down his breeches in order to have a public shag with him right here and now on the Pearl's planks, entertaining the whole crew- unlikely- she was up to something else… four, five… someone should tell the lass there were more erotic ways of kissing than trying to devour the one you're kissing. Mayhap Will was really an eunuch and she was betraying him… six, seven… now he had figured her out… eight, nine… he broke the kiss and whirled her around while at the same time he knocked his pistol out of her hand, shoving her against the mast. A mere second later the shackles hanging from it, shackles he had never made use of because he had sworn that there would never be any floggings aboard the Black Pearl, clicked. Elisabeth yelped astonished.
"Ne'er thought o' that, aye luv? Ye honestly must have believed I'd be daft enough to be taken in by a trick I invented years ago. Next time ye wanna cheat me ye'll have to do better than that."
Jack walked away, leaving Elisabeth frantically rattling at the chains, fuming with anger and frustration.
"Bloody pirate! You dirty, unwashed, rum-soaked, wobbly-legged pirate! You will never know what it's like to be a good man."
He just shrugged it off, casually waving at her, and stepped up the stairs to the afterdeck- where he bumped into Rowan. Given the look on her face she must have watched Elisabeth kissing him. Bugger, bugger, bugger! Although things weren't going too well between them lately he still loved her, and he had definitely not intended to hurt her. He looked around for Bill, looking for support, but his friend just shot him a cross glance that seemed to say 'ye've made yer own bed, now ye must lie on it.'
Jack stood up in front of Rowan, raised his hands and let them drop again in an indecisive gesture. "I know what ye're thinking but ye're wrong to think it was what it seemed to look like."
"Ah, and what d'ye think I'm thinking it looked like?"
"That I'd kiss her, which, in fact, might have appeared so to any bystander…"
"Never mind," Rowan cut him off, faking indifference, "it's understandable ye kissed her. After all, she's a beautiful woman."
"No, no, no… um, I mean yes, she is, but ye're getting me wrong, luv. There's more than meets the eye. Her kiss was just manipulation concealed as a kiss. I got abused; she forced herself upon me and stuck her tongue down me throat… consider it as an attempted rape."
Rowan rolled her eyes. "Jack, ye're not making any sense."
Jack circled an arm around her waist and pulled her closer. Looking her deep in the eyes- eyes, he wanted to drown in- he let the fingers of his free hand ran through her hair before they came resting on her cheek, caressing her gently. His lips brushed hers ever so slightly.
"Am I making sense now, Rowan."
The way he spoke her name made her heart beating faster; it sounded of honest affection. This bloody rascal was about to wind her around his little finger and she liked it.
"No matter how beautiful ol' whatshername is, she can ne'er match ye." Jack purred in a velvet slur, kissing her gently, almost like a question. And she was willing to answer. Their tongues met in a teasing game, entwining, exploring each other. It was a passionate kiss, full of yearning but not driven by mere lust. Instead, it was more like renewing of what they thought they had lost somewhere on the bumpy road of their lives and throughout lost years of separation. Suddenly it didn't matter anymore that Rowan was keeping secrets from him since her kiss proved that she was still the woman he had fallen in love with. Unlike Elisabeth, her kiss did not taste manipulative. It was odd, but probably he had needed her poor example of what a kiss should not be like to appreciate what Rowan really meant to him.
"If there were more women aboard, would the Capt'n get te kiss 'em all or leave some for us?" Marty wondered aloud.
"Shhh… having one woman aboard is frightful bad luck, two o' them only doubles it, and to even think 'bout more… brrr," Mr Gibbs shuddered at the thought and turned around to take a surreptitious swig from his flask, when suddenly he saw something from the corner of his eyes. Sails so dark they almost looked black. A spluttering cough came over his lips as he nearly choked on his rum, trying to shout, "Sails ho."
His words were lost in the loud roar of cannon fire.
Startled, and yet quite reluctantly, Jack and Rowan broke their kiss to see what was going on…
tbc
Now give me many reviews for Christmas! Have a great time and 'see you' next year.