The scene in the tavern and directly after is taken from the film but the rest is from my brain. My apologies on taking so long to update-tends to be a habit of mine to apologize doesn't it? In any case, I traveled 21,000 miles in the month of June and only recently came back to my perch in Taiwan so that would be why you had such a long wait. Now we're back in the game and it should be fairly more regular. Thank you for your patience and support.
Resisting the urge to punch the drunkard whose hand had suddenly found it's way to her rear, Ashlynne manuvered her way through the throngs of riotous men and women in the tavern until she found the man she was looking for. She'd barely left him alone for an hour but Gibbs had already positioned himself near the door, with a parchment of paper, inkwell and pen in front of him. He had a few names scribbled down, though they'd been crossed off as well, and was looking for more it seemed. They'd made port that afternoon and while she desperately wanted to go home and have a nice bath, spend a quiet evening with Hope and Devlin, and catch up with Parlan, she knew that if she didn't keep an eye on Gibbs, or Jack for that matter, all hell would break loose. She wasn't emotionally invested in Jack's latest scheme, although she did hope he found what he was looking for before the kraken got him, but she knew Hope would have her hide if she didn't ensure his safety whilst he was on land-her poor sister had the strangest fixation on the dirty pirate and Ashlynne only took comfort in knowing that it wasn't a romantic fixation, thank heavens for that.
An elderly man was standing in front of Gibbs when Ashlynne drew up beside the table and leaned her hip against it to watch and listen to the proceedings.
"And what makes you think you're worthy to crew the Black Pearl?" Gibbs asked him, his eyes bright with mischief and rum.
Ashlynne had to lean a bit closer to hear the poor wretch when he replied, his voice raspy with age, "Truth be told, I never sailed a day in me life. I figure I should get out and see the world while I'm still young."
She turned to look at Gibbs and frowned when the sea dog grinned and handed the old man the pen, "You'll do. Make your mark. Next!"
"Are ye daft?" Ashlynne bent over the table so she could speak more privately to her friend despite the crowded room. "He'll be lucky to survive a week at sea. How much work do ye think he can take at his age? How quickly do ye think he'll learn how to tie the riggin'?"
Gibbs also leaned closer, his rum sweetened breath near putrid when it fanned across her face, "It's bodies we need, lassie, not brains. Don't stick your nose in something your not willing to lose it for." He sat back in his chair with a firm nod and turned his gaze to the young man who'd come to stand before him.
"My wife ran off with my dog. And I've been drunk for a month. And I don't give a ass rat's if I live or die." When he swayed a little on his feet and Ashlynne caught a whiff of his body door, she had to pull her kerchief out of her pocket and hold it over her nose to keep from gagging.
"Perfect!" Gibbs slapped the table and handed the man the pen. "Next!"
Ashlynne watched with horror, and slight amusement, when next a one-armed man hobbled close. "Me have one arm, 'n' a bum leg."
Gibbs frowned a moment but then his tell-tale grin returned, "It's the crow's nest for you."
Ashlynne sighed and moved away, no longer wanted to hear the rising level of ridiculous that was Gibbs' recruitment scheme. She saw Jack sitting alongside a wall in the shadows nearby and dropped down on the stool beside him. She heard him muttering, "I know what I want," as he played with his compass. It seemed she couldn't get away from ridiculous even here, although she should've expected as much given present company. She looked back over to Gibbs' circus to see a fairly handsome young man standing there with his hands clasped over his heart.
"Ever since I was a little lad, I've always wanted to sail the seas. Forever." His eyes seemed to grow a little misty towards the end of his statement and Ashlynne snorted to herself; the likelihood of that man surviving was even less than the old man before him.
"Sooner than you think." Gibbs carefully handed the man the pen then drew his hand back as if scared to touch the man. It seemed he was off put by the man's eloquent waxing of delight. "Sign the roster."
Growling in frustration beside her, Jack snapped his compass shut and surged to his feet. He swayed this way and that until he leaned over Gibbs' shoulder, although he did not block Ashlynne's view of the proceedings.
"How we going?" She heard him ask, his brows furrowed in concentration as he looked over Gibbs' shoulder to the parchment.
Gibbs made a show of counting the names, "Including those four? That gives us...four!" Jack lowered his head to rest in the palm of one of his hands while Gibbs cheerily looked up to the next man who'd come to stand before his table. "And what's your story?"
"My story..." Ashlynne felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end when she heard the man's voice. She tensed and studied him more carefully, taking in the sight of his baggy trousers, old, moth-eaten naval coat, shaggy, mud riddled hair, thick beard, and hunched over stature. The man continued in a slurred, rumbling voice, "it's exactly the same as your story, just one chapter behind." It seemed from the way Gibbs had begun to tense and Jack's body began to slink down towards the ground that they too recognised the man before them. "I chased a man across the Seven Seas. The pursuit cost me my crew, my commission, and my life."
"Commodore?" Gibbs leaned forward a bit, as if to peer through the dirty mane of hair that hung over the man's face. Jack by this time had crouched on the ground and begun to crawl crab-like around the edge of it, heading deeper into the tavern.
James Norrington straightened a bit and growled out, "No, not anymore, weren't you listening?" He leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of the parchment, as he brought his face closer to Gibbs. "I nearly had you all, off Tripoli. I would have, if not for the... hurricane."
"Lord." Gibbs waved a hand in front of his face, as if James' breath was worse than his own. "You didn't try to sail through it?"
James scratched at his beard covered neck, "So do I make your crew, or not?" From the looks of him it was obvious to them all that he had not only tried to sail through the hurricane but had sailed through hell in the process. Oh how the mighty have fallen, Ashlynne thought to herself as she watched off to the side as Jack grabbed a branch from a vase, put it in front of his face, and attempt to walk towards the door. James continued speaking then, drawing Ashlynne's attention back. "You haven't said where you're going. Somewhere nice?" Before Gibbs could respond James moved quickly, his hand reaching inside his coat and withdrawing a pistol. He turned, pushing a tavern wench out of the way, and pointed it directly at Jack. "So am I worthy to serve under Captain Jack Sparrow?" He fired off a shot, narrowly missing Jack's neck but effectively severing the branch in his hand, the leaves dropping to the floor and leaving Jack face to face with James and his pistol. "Or should I just kill you now?"
Jack threw himself behind the nearest pillar and called from around it, "You're hired."
"Sorry. Old habits and all that." He swayed a little on his feet but cocked the pistol in order to fire again.
A drunk sitting closest to him jumped to his feet, "Easy, sonny!" He made to grab for James' pistol and in the ensuing scuffle it fired, the ball ricocheting off the chandelier and breaking a man's bottle as he made to drink from it. Ashlynne watched as the man with the broken bottle punched the man next to him while his woman jumped across the table and attacked the first man. The band struck a new chord in their music and a typical tavern brawl grew in intensity, with punches and bottles flying this way and that.
Jack and Gibbs crawled over to where Ashlynne still sat in the shadows, unsure of where or when to move. Jack laid a hand on her knee and used it to bring himself to a crouch, "Time to go?"
Gibbs also pulled himself into a crouch using Ashlynne's knee, "Aye!"
She growled and pushed them both away and then stood. As frustrated and mad and hurt as she was with James, she wasn't about to let him get himself killed in a tavern brawl. She moved past the cowering Gibbs and Jack and swung her legs over the table standing between her and the rest of the tavern. She could see James in the middle of the mass of fighting bodies, his arms flailing out haphazardly as he yelled, "Come on, men! Who wants some? Form an orderly line, I'll have you all one by one. Come on, who's first?" Ashlynne shook her head and was just about to shove her way to his side when a small figure came up behind him and smashed a bottle over his head. James crumpled to the floor unconscious seconds after.
The figure looked at the suddenly quiet crowd and yelled, "I just wanted the pleasure of doing that myself!" Ashlynne recognised the voice, even if the figure was trying to disguise it, and felt a surge of anger at Elizabeth Swann. If anyone deserve to hit James upside the head with a bottle it was she, not Elizabeth. What had he done to her to deserve that?
The crowd cheered, the brawl died down, and Ashlynne watched as two men picked up James and dragged him from the room. Elizabeth followed directly behind them and Ashlynne followed a pace behind her, keeping to the shadows as much as possible. The men threw James into the pig pen behind the tavern and laughed to themselves when they stumbled back inside. Ashlynne memorized their faces, making a mental note to pay them a visit later. She had to refrain from growling when she watched Elizabeth bend down and roll James over onto his back.
"James Norrington." She pushed some of the hair out of his face. "What has the world done to you?" Ashlynne was about to step in and throw the young girl away from James, screaming at her to never touch him again-an impulse that surprised her with its intensity and with its foreign nature; she wasn't typically territorial-but held back when Elizabeth stood back up and moved to stand in the alleyway. "Captain Sparrow!" She called after Jack and Gibbs, whom Ashlynne noted, had managed to weave their way close by on in their efforts to make it back to the ship unnoticed.
"Come to join me crew, lad?" Jack swayed forward and slapped his hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. "Welcome aboard."
"I'm here to find the man I love." Even from the distance that she was at Ashlynne could see Elizabeth strengthen her stance as she tipped her head back when she spoke.
"I'm deeply flattered, son," Jack drew his hand back quickly and shook it out a little, "but my first and only love is the sea."
Ashlynne heard a moaning and turned to see James rolling onto his side and vomiting. She looked back to see that Gibbs and Jack had seen her hovering in the shadows but that Elizabeth had not. Gibbs was frowning, obviously unsure of what to say or do with the "lad" in front of them or with James rolling around in pig feces and vomit.
"Meaning William Turner," Elizabeth spoke again, drawing all eyes back to her, "Captain Sparrow."
Jack tipped Elizabeth's hat back a little so the street lamp could illuminate her face more, "Elizabeth." He clutched at his jacket and withdrew a bottle, thrusting it into Gibbs' direction. "Hide the rum." When he faced Elizabeth again his face was drawn into a leer and Ashlynne snorted to herself; Jack thought he had such charm. "You know, these clothes do not flatter you at all. It should be a dress or nothing. I happen to have no dress in my cabin." He put his arm around her shoulders and began to lead her towards the docks.
Elizabeth shrugged off his arm and turned to face him again, "Jack. I know Will came to find you. Where is he?"
James managed to move himself into a kneeling position by this time. He lifted his head and for a moment it seemed his gaze locked directly on her where she stood beside the tavern. Ashlynne pressed further back against the wall of the tavern, silently praying that the shadows were thick enough to hide her from him. But then he coughed up some phlegm, spit it to the side, and heaved himself to his feet, ending her fear. He swerved around to face Gibbs, Jack and Elizabeth then braced himself against the pen fence to listen while his body ceased its swaying.
"Darling," Jack reached out and laid his hand on Elizabeth's shoulder again, "I am truly unhappy to have to tell you this but... through an unfortunate and entirely unforeseeable series of circumstances that have nothing whatsoever to do with me, poor William has been press-ganged into Davy Jones' crew."
"Davy Jones?" Elizabeth sounded more confused than alarmed and Ashlynne got the feeling that the girl has never heard of the infamous man, further proof that this was no place for her.
"Oh, please." James swiped his hand across his face, smearing more muck in the process. "The captain of the Flying Dutchman?" He shook his head in disbelief and nearly fell over from doing so; his body not quite up to such rapid movement.
Jack looked at James as if seeing him for the first time, "You look bloody awful. What are you doing here?"
"You hired me." James straightened as much to his full height as he could manage still drunk. "I can't help it if your standards are lax."
Jack leaned forward and sniffed at James. He pulled away with a jerk and pressed a hand over his face, "You smell funny."
As James glanced down at himself, picking at his clothes here and there, Elizabeth spoke again, "Jack. All I want is to find Will."
"Are you certain?" Jack reached down and touched his hip, as if reaching for something hidden in a pocket there. "Is that what you really want most?" Elizabeth nodded emphatically. "Because I would think, you'd want to find a way to save Will the most."
"And you have a way of doing that?" Elizabeth didn't bother to argue semantics with the pirate, too keen on finding her beloved no doubt.
"Well, there is a chest." Ashlynne heard James mutter to himself as he continued to pick at his clothing before Jack continued. "A chest of unknown size and origin. What contains the still-beating heart o' Davy Jones. And whoever possesses that chest possesses the leverage to command Jones to do whatever it is he or she wants, including... saving brave William from his grim fate."
Elizabeth listened, enraptured it seemed, as Jack spoke. There was a deep silence once he finished, until James took to coughing and broke it. "You don't actually believe him, do you?" He asked in between coughs.
Elizabeth glared at the coughing James before she turned her attention back to Jack, "How do we find it?" She did have determination, Ashlynne noted, and that was in her favour in a situation like this.
"With this." Jack was smiling that devilish smile of his as he pulled out his compass. "My compass... is unique."
"'Unique' here having the meaning of broken." With a sigh, James managed to upright himself even more, the alcohol in his system draining away with each passing minute.
"True enough, former Commodore. This compass does not point north. It points to the thing you want most in this world."
Elizabeth clasped her hands in front of her chest as if to keep herself from grabbing at the compass, "Oh Jack! Are you telling the truth?"
"Every word, love. And what you want most in this world is to find the chest of Davy Jones, is it not?"
"To save Will." Elizabeth frowned as she corrected Jack's statement.
"By finding the chest of Davy Jones." Jack smiled again as he handed Elizabeth the compass. There was tense moment of silence, during which both Gibbs and James stepped closer to look over Elizabeth's shoulder. Suddenly, Jack pointed towards the docks and exclaimed, "Mister Gibbs! We have our heading." He snatched Gibbs' arm and together they took off running towards the docks, as if they'd forgotten to take Elizabeth and James in the process.
Ashlynne couldn't tell what Elizabeth's expression was like but when Norrington spoke again she felt her stomach churn listening to him, "It's a curious thing. There was a time when I would've given anything for you to look like that while thinking about me."
"I don't know what you mean." Elizabeth straightened her clothes and placed the compass in her pocket.
James also straightened his clothes, to no avail, "Oh, I think you do."
They began to move towards the docks, forcing Ashlynne to slink out of the shadows and trail behind them in order to listen, "Oh, don't be absurd. I trust him, that's all."
"So you never wondered how your latest fiancé ended up on the Flying Dutchman in the first place?" James shook his head at her. "How naive of you Miss Swann."
Elizabeth glared at him for a moment before she brushed past him, calling over her shoulder, "I should've hit you with two bottles instead of the one."
Left alone in the alleyway, James looked even smaller and more despondent than he had in the tavern some time before. Ashlynne watched him from where she stood for a moment longer, nibbling her lower lip in indecision. Should she make herself known or let him continue in his reckless pursuit of glory or whatever it was he was after? He solved her dilemma by striding after Elizabeth at a rapid pace, leaving Ashlynne in the shadows. She wasn't sure if she wanted to pray to see him again or not, but she did know that she wanted him to survive the chaotic hell Jack was about to put him through.