DISCLAIMER: Still don't own PotC...you didn't think we were going to say we
did, did you?
As the last rays of the setting sun faded from the water, a ship glided into a small cove on the opposite side of the island. It had stayed mainly out of sight of the townspeople; it was a secretive sort of ship, an impression greatly enhanced by its midnight black sails. Upon closer inspection, one would have seen that even the rigging, rat lines, and various coils of ropes were tarred black - whether for protection from the elements or to complete the effect was open to interpretation. On its bow, however, the reflection of the last sparkles on the water glinted menacingly off the eyes of the gryphon's head that was its jutting figurehead.
A silver gryphon.
???
It was wonderful to be back with old friends, though Jack fondly, looking at the merry faces of Will and Elizabeth. They were nearly the same as they had been before, back during the epic adventure that had brought the three of them together in the first place; the only real difference now was that they were, of course, married. Elizabeth's father had bought them a roomy, spacious house worthy of the governor's daughter, and with the money granted to him along with the amnesty, Will had finally enough to buy the smithy he had long apprenticed in from its fat, drunken owner. The first thing he had done was to make sure that it was widely known that every sword produced there had been made by him; for himself, Jack wondered how anyone could possibly have thought otherwise. And as for Elizabeth - well, although it had been absolutely true when he had said she didn't look it - she already had the warm glow of anticipation in her face and voice.
Their bantering, talking, laughing, and general reminiscing went on for the better part of the day, and it was only when evening fell that Jack warmly bade them farewell, with a promise that he would return on the morrow for their banquet.
???
It was close to evening when Ryenne woke from her light slumber. She lay for a moment with her eyes open, collecting her thoughts and orienting herself. There were no windows in the cabin, but outside, one of the crewmen rang the small gong that sounded third watch; so it was five o'clock. Slowly sitting up, she stood (somewhat unsteadily), and cast about for her coat. Well, it was technically Jack's coat.....along with everything else she was wearing. Even though there was no one to see, she still blushed in a strange mixture of embarrassment and anger at the thought. He had DRESSED her!? How DARE he! No matter that he had saved her life.
Finding the coat in a heap on the floor in the corner, she irritably shrugged it on and slammed the door on her way out of the cabin.
???
The streets of Port Royale were shadowy, the evening-red of the sun blocked by the hills that overlooked the port. As she wandered, Ryenne raptly took in her surroundings, faintly amused by the quaintness of the town. It was medium-sized compared to most colonies, she supposed; there was a distinct boundary line where the smaller houses ended and the opulent ones began, owned by the nobility that had migrated from England, drawn - no doubt - by the fabled beauty and warmth of the Caribbean. After all, it was a pleasant enough place to live - far better than Tortuga, at any rate - and well-fortified against attacks of any kind. Ryenne snorted. What kind of pirate would DARE attack an anti-pirate fanatic like Norrington? Grinning sheepishly, she remembered EXACTLY what kind.....she had, after all.
Turning onto a brightly lit side street, the grin on her face flickered......and disappeared. Now that she had gone out to look for Jack, she didn't have the faintest idea WHY she was looking for him. In fact - now that she thought about it - searching him out was probably the worst thing she could be doing; avoiding him completely would be far more effective in this particular situation. Yes.....she'd avoid -
The sound of raucous voices snapped her out of her reverie, and she turned to receive the source of the noise.......and gasped.
???
"This is not happening......" She whispered, completely horrified. The thought to turn and run finally hit her, but it was already too late; she'd been spotted.
"Look what we got here, mates!" Tyrus chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding to the shadowy, menacing figures looming behind him; shadow specters from Ryenne's past......except, they weren't shadows.
"What're you doing here!?" she demanded, backing away a few steps. The mass of threatening figures behind Tyrus began to spread, circling around her, closing her in.
"I was just about to ask you the same question, Caelar." Several strong pairs of hands seized Ryenne suddenly, twisting her arms painfully behind her. She stifled a gasp, trying desperately to wrench away....all in vain. Tyrus grinned evilly, relishing the frightened expression on her face; she tried to wipe it away, but couldn't. "Word is, you've been sailing with the Black Pearl."
"Maybe....maybe not." She spat, wriggling as the rough hands squeezed her wrists and shoulders in a vise-like grip. "In either case, I wouldn't tell you!"
"Snuggling up to another captain, are you?" he sneered, taking a few steps closer. She cringed: something was about to happen, and whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. "I've heard of this.....Sparrow......." he continued, looking her up and down. ".....and he's not one to suffer a worthless little tripe like you."
"You don't know - " Ryenne cried angrily, lunging at Tyrus. A sharp blow to her cheek sent her reeling, back into her captors' arms. Tears of pain sprung to her eyes, but she blinked them back.
He lowered his arm, his sneer reappearing. "You're just his little pet, aren't you? His plaything." She glared. "I see.......you're not one to go after REAL men - "
"You're not HALF the man he is!" What was she SAYING!? Tyrus's hand shot out again; a more solid hit this time. She couldn't stop a shriek of agony as she felt her lower lip split open; red and gold stars danced across her vision.
"I'm TEN TIMES the man he is!" he roared as she bent double in pain, trying to stifle her own whimpering. "And don't you forget it!" Seizing a handful of her dark hair, he wrenched her head back, so that she was forced to look at him. Her breathing was harsh and ragged. "Finally figured out your place in the world, you whore?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth. "Let me go, Tyrus." She was through fighting him; it wasn't worth the price. Pursing her lips in determination, she could feel a droplet of blood running down her chin and wished she could wipe it away. Tyrus glared down at her, his eyes cold and calculating. Was she giving up so quickly?
"Why should I let you go?" his eyebrows raised mockingly, and he made a small gesture with his hand. The men holding her flung her forward suddenly, and she hit the ground...hard. The gravel dug into the palms of her hands, tearing through the tough flesh, and she couldn't push away terrible stinging pain in her hands and knees. Lying face down in the dust - trying her very hardest not to show weakness - she wished for something she'd never wished for before, nor thought she ever would. She wished for Jack.
Tyrus's boot connected with her ribs, sending a sharp wave of pain through her, and she moaned, struggling to find breath. Rolling slowly onto her back, she peered up at him through clouded eyes.
"Answer me!" he demanded, kicking her again.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer to whoever may have been listening. She could hear Tyrus preparing to give her another swift kick, but she wouldn't wait for it. In a second, she was on her feet and running, shoving her way through the stunned ring of thugs. She'd already made it around the corner and halfway down that street when she heard his enraged orders.
"What are you looking at!? After her!" It was too late for them, however. She was free....or so she thought.
She didn't see the shadowy figure until she collided head-on with it, knocked backward off her feet. Shuffling back, she shied away as the stranger gently grabbed her shoulder, hauling her onto her feet once more. Acting under instinct, she tried to jerk away, swinging a punch at the stranger, who caught her wrist easily.
"Calm down, love, I'm not going to hurt you!" as soon as she heard the voice, she stopped struggling abruptly, peering uncertainly at him.
"Jack?" the flickering firelight from the torch-lamps played across Jack's oh-so-familiar features, and she smiled - relieved - at his confused expression.
"Ryenne!?" he studied her disbelievingly, a strange sort of light in his eyes. "What are you doing here!? You're.....alive!"
A shout somewhere in the distance reminded her of what was following her. "Of course I'm alive." Tugging his jacket sleeve, she tried to hurry him along in the direction she'd been going. "Listen, we have to get out of here! They're after me, and -"
"What? Who's after you, love?" his eyes alighted on her bleeding lip. "What happened!?"
Pulling his arm impatiently, she glanced at the corner around which she'd come. "I'll explain later. We need to go!"
Something glittered in his eyes and his face changed, still examining her bloodied lip. "No, I'll - "
She shook her head frantically, her eyes flitting from him to the corner and back to him. "We can't fight them off! There's too many!" Her panicked expression must have convinced him, somehow, because he followed without further protest as they hurried through the shadows, silently making their way back to the safety of the Pearl.
As the last rays of the setting sun faded from the water, a ship glided into a small cove on the opposite side of the island. It had stayed mainly out of sight of the townspeople; it was a secretive sort of ship, an impression greatly enhanced by its midnight black sails. Upon closer inspection, one would have seen that even the rigging, rat lines, and various coils of ropes were tarred black - whether for protection from the elements or to complete the effect was open to interpretation. On its bow, however, the reflection of the last sparkles on the water glinted menacingly off the eyes of the gryphon's head that was its jutting figurehead.
A silver gryphon.
???
It was wonderful to be back with old friends, though Jack fondly, looking at the merry faces of Will and Elizabeth. They were nearly the same as they had been before, back during the epic adventure that had brought the three of them together in the first place; the only real difference now was that they were, of course, married. Elizabeth's father had bought them a roomy, spacious house worthy of the governor's daughter, and with the money granted to him along with the amnesty, Will had finally enough to buy the smithy he had long apprenticed in from its fat, drunken owner. The first thing he had done was to make sure that it was widely known that every sword produced there had been made by him; for himself, Jack wondered how anyone could possibly have thought otherwise. And as for Elizabeth - well, although it had been absolutely true when he had said she didn't look it - she already had the warm glow of anticipation in her face and voice.
Their bantering, talking, laughing, and general reminiscing went on for the better part of the day, and it was only when evening fell that Jack warmly bade them farewell, with a promise that he would return on the morrow for their banquet.
???
It was close to evening when Ryenne woke from her light slumber. She lay for a moment with her eyes open, collecting her thoughts and orienting herself. There were no windows in the cabin, but outside, one of the crewmen rang the small gong that sounded third watch; so it was five o'clock. Slowly sitting up, she stood (somewhat unsteadily), and cast about for her coat. Well, it was technically Jack's coat.....along with everything else she was wearing. Even though there was no one to see, she still blushed in a strange mixture of embarrassment and anger at the thought. He had DRESSED her!? How DARE he! No matter that he had saved her life.
Finding the coat in a heap on the floor in the corner, she irritably shrugged it on and slammed the door on her way out of the cabin.
???
The streets of Port Royale were shadowy, the evening-red of the sun blocked by the hills that overlooked the port. As she wandered, Ryenne raptly took in her surroundings, faintly amused by the quaintness of the town. It was medium-sized compared to most colonies, she supposed; there was a distinct boundary line where the smaller houses ended and the opulent ones began, owned by the nobility that had migrated from England, drawn - no doubt - by the fabled beauty and warmth of the Caribbean. After all, it was a pleasant enough place to live - far better than Tortuga, at any rate - and well-fortified against attacks of any kind. Ryenne snorted. What kind of pirate would DARE attack an anti-pirate fanatic like Norrington? Grinning sheepishly, she remembered EXACTLY what kind.....she had, after all.
Turning onto a brightly lit side street, the grin on her face flickered......and disappeared. Now that she had gone out to look for Jack, she didn't have the faintest idea WHY she was looking for him. In fact - now that she thought about it - searching him out was probably the worst thing she could be doing; avoiding him completely would be far more effective in this particular situation. Yes.....she'd avoid -
The sound of raucous voices snapped her out of her reverie, and she turned to receive the source of the noise.......and gasped.
???
"This is not happening......" She whispered, completely horrified. The thought to turn and run finally hit her, but it was already too late; she'd been spotted.
"Look what we got here, mates!" Tyrus chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest and nodding to the shadowy, menacing figures looming behind him; shadow specters from Ryenne's past......except, they weren't shadows.
"What're you doing here!?" she demanded, backing away a few steps. The mass of threatening figures behind Tyrus began to spread, circling around her, closing her in.
"I was just about to ask you the same question, Caelar." Several strong pairs of hands seized Ryenne suddenly, twisting her arms painfully behind her. She stifled a gasp, trying desperately to wrench away....all in vain. Tyrus grinned evilly, relishing the frightened expression on her face; she tried to wipe it away, but couldn't. "Word is, you've been sailing with the Black Pearl."
"Maybe....maybe not." She spat, wriggling as the rough hands squeezed her wrists and shoulders in a vise-like grip. "In either case, I wouldn't tell you!"
"Snuggling up to another captain, are you?" he sneered, taking a few steps closer. She cringed: something was about to happen, and whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. "I've heard of this.....Sparrow......." he continued, looking her up and down. ".....and he's not one to suffer a worthless little tripe like you."
"You don't know - " Ryenne cried angrily, lunging at Tyrus. A sharp blow to her cheek sent her reeling, back into her captors' arms. Tears of pain sprung to her eyes, but she blinked them back.
He lowered his arm, his sneer reappearing. "You're just his little pet, aren't you? His plaything." She glared. "I see.......you're not one to go after REAL men - "
"You're not HALF the man he is!" What was she SAYING!? Tyrus's hand shot out again; a more solid hit this time. She couldn't stop a shriek of agony as she felt her lower lip split open; red and gold stars danced across her vision.
"I'm TEN TIMES the man he is!" he roared as she bent double in pain, trying to stifle her own whimpering. "And don't you forget it!" Seizing a handful of her dark hair, he wrenched her head back, so that she was forced to look at him. Her breathing was harsh and ragged. "Finally figured out your place in the world, you whore?"
She squeezed her eyes shut, gritting her teeth. "Let me go, Tyrus." She was through fighting him; it wasn't worth the price. Pursing her lips in determination, she could feel a droplet of blood running down her chin and wished she could wipe it away. Tyrus glared down at her, his eyes cold and calculating. Was she giving up so quickly?
"Why should I let you go?" his eyebrows raised mockingly, and he made a small gesture with his hand. The men holding her flung her forward suddenly, and she hit the ground...hard. The gravel dug into the palms of her hands, tearing through the tough flesh, and she couldn't push away terrible stinging pain in her hands and knees. Lying face down in the dust - trying her very hardest not to show weakness - she wished for something she'd never wished for before, nor thought she ever would. She wished for Jack.
Tyrus's boot connected with her ribs, sending a sharp wave of pain through her, and she moaned, struggling to find breath. Rolling slowly onto her back, she peered up at him through clouded eyes.
"Answer me!" he demanded, kicking her again.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and whispered a silent prayer to whoever may have been listening. She could hear Tyrus preparing to give her another swift kick, but she wouldn't wait for it. In a second, she was on her feet and running, shoving her way through the stunned ring of thugs. She'd already made it around the corner and halfway down that street when she heard his enraged orders.
"What are you looking at!? After her!" It was too late for them, however. She was free....or so she thought.
She didn't see the shadowy figure until she collided head-on with it, knocked backward off her feet. Shuffling back, she shied away as the stranger gently grabbed her shoulder, hauling her onto her feet once more. Acting under instinct, she tried to jerk away, swinging a punch at the stranger, who caught her wrist easily.
"Calm down, love, I'm not going to hurt you!" as soon as she heard the voice, she stopped struggling abruptly, peering uncertainly at him.
"Jack?" the flickering firelight from the torch-lamps played across Jack's oh-so-familiar features, and she smiled - relieved - at his confused expression.
"Ryenne!?" he studied her disbelievingly, a strange sort of light in his eyes. "What are you doing here!? You're.....alive!"
A shout somewhere in the distance reminded her of what was following her. "Of course I'm alive." Tugging his jacket sleeve, she tried to hurry him along in the direction she'd been going. "Listen, we have to get out of here! They're after me, and -"
"What? Who's after you, love?" his eyes alighted on her bleeding lip. "What happened!?"
Pulling his arm impatiently, she glanced at the corner around which she'd come. "I'll explain later. We need to go!"
Something glittered in his eyes and his face changed, still examining her bloodied lip. "No, I'll - "
She shook her head frantically, her eyes flitting from him to the corner and back to him. "We can't fight them off! There's too many!" Her panicked expression must have convinced him, somehow, because he followed without further protest as they hurried through the shadows, silently making their way back to the safety of the Pearl.