Disclaimer: Still don't own them, though after the amount of times that I've gone and seen it, you'd think the least Disney could do is send me a thank you card. grin
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Winn Morgan was a stick of girl, and a short stick at that. She stood at a lofty height of 5'4", and with her distinct lack of feminine curves, she resembled a girl of 16 rather than an old maid of 26.
Her dark hair had been called black and brown alike, and indeed, in the dark it did appear to be black (as do most other things). It was long and straight, and unusually controllable. That is, as long as the occasion did not call for curls, in which case her smooth locks would stay coiled for a moment or two before once again settling into their customary vertical straightness. For the most part, Winn kept her hair pinned in a neat knot at the nape of her neck and longed for the day when she would work up the courage to chop it all off.
Her eyes were possibly her only attractive attribute – they were a clear blue, rimmed in green. However, she preferred to hide them behind brass-rimmed specs, and the brows they we set under (as well as the nose set between them) were too straight to be called anything other than uncompromising. Her mouth may have been called pleasant, but she opened it to speak her mind far too often for men to become infatuated with it.
Then there was her manner, her attitude. Her neighbors in England had avoided her because of it; the inhabitants of the isle where she now lived were known to say, "Hair as black as a Caribbean night, eyes as blue as the changing sea, and a heart as cold as the ocean depths." This was a bit of an exaggeration, seeing as how Winn's hair was really just a confused shade of brown. Her heart, well . . . that she kept guarded. If an icy demeanor is what it took to fend off hurt, then so be it. It was a price she was willing to pay. Her heart, like her past, she was prepared to keep to herself.
But now, standing in the empty quarters of a pirate captain, listening to the door being secured against her need to explore the rest of the ship, Winn wondered what she had ever done to end up in this position. Surely ransom is what Captain Sparrow has in mind, she thought, especially after the disappointing haul they've gotten from the Kestrel. No one in their right mind would be interested in anything else from me, unless they like boys. She grimaced. Such things were not unheard of aboard ship. Sparrow is the one I have to worry about, however.
Thinking these encouraging thoughts, Winn wandered over to the large windows this cabin boasted. Watching the sea swirl past, half hidden in an early evening fog, she took a seat at the window, prepared to wait for the return of the Pearl's captain and the unveiling of her immediate fate. Quietly she sang under her breath, "Yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate's life for me . . ."
Jack Sparrow spent a moment surveying his handiwork on the doors to his cabin. A piece of nearby rope and a few experienced twists were enough to ensure that his reluctant guest would be going nowhere in the near future. Past that immediacy, he had not yet planned.
The Black Pearl had had a lucrative run in the past few months, so a ransom would be more for appearance's sake than for any real need for money. Another option would be to deliver her to Port Royal himself – it had been awhile since the crew had seen anything like a real fight. But Norrington was still holding a grudge over that whole "escape" thing – this time the Commodore would be more cautious and undoubtedly even more prepared for an encounter with the Pearl. It was also possible that Jack could just drop Winn off by the next inhabited island to make her own way to Port Royal, but that didn't seem nearly as much fun as any of his other choices.
Ahh well, he had time and more to decide just what he was going to do on that front. The Kestrel, however, was a current difficulty, one that still needed to be dealt with. Turning his back on his quarters and their quarantined guest, he returned to the beleaguered Kestrel.
Once again crossing the gangway between the two ships (Jack tried to avoid ropes when possible – he didn't have much luck with them), Jack called out to Gibbs, "What have ye got these gobs doing? Resting their toesies when there's work to be done? Get aloft ye scabs! I want those sails in our hold before the hour is out." Confident that Gibbs would carry out his orders whether he understood them or not, Jack circulated amongst his crew, looking for two more people.
One he found quickly. Ana Maria, being the only woman in his crew, was somewhat easy to spot in a crowd. "Ana Maria, luv, why don'cha take a man or two and get a few things for our new guest. Whatever you think a woman might need for a few days."
Ana Maria, used to such epithets and obscure orders, raised an eyebrow at her captain. "So, you're really going to keep the girl on board Jack? Are you sure that's wise? The last well-bred miss you brought on board to ransom spent the entire week weeping and fainting. By the end of it she was too exhausted but do anything but snore, and you were too drunk to do anything but the same."
Jack cringed at the memory. "Lady Patience my arse. The only thing she ever waited for was a convenient moment to collapse. That woman was a bloody nuisance. She kept me clear of women for two months. Women and rum. Do you know how much I regret that little venture?"
"Aye capt'n, you've mentioned it before. That's why I want to know whether you're really set to this."
Jack was silent for a moment, a rare moment of public contemplative thought. At last he replied, "No, the lady Winn doesn't seem like the type to go faintin' anytime someone looks at her cross-eyed. She's more likely to heap revenge on the head of the poor man who crosses her."
"Capt'n? Aren't you the poor man who's crossed her recently?" Ana Maria pointed this out in a sardonic voice.
Jack wandered away from Ana Maria thinking about the point she had just so effectively scored. What I need to do, he thought, is manage to keep Winn off balance until I know what I'm going to do with her. It's seemed to work so far. I just wish I knew what I was doing to keep her that way.
As he was walking and ruminating on an off-balance "Winnie," Jack remembered the incident with young White. Changing course half-way across the deck, Sparrow headed towards where Gibbs was directing the crew in taking down (and generally absconding with) the Kestrel's sails. "Gibbs! Where's young master White?"
"He's back aboard the Pearl, Capt'n. Seems his nose was broken in that little tussle earlier." Gibbs went on, a look of disgust on his face. "He whined so much that I was ready to toss him overboard m'self if it would stop his bellyachin'. Instead, I made him leave before another crewman took it into his head to shoot the lad for openin' his trap."
If nothing else up to now (youthful exuberance, partial incompetence, an all-to-general superiority complex, threatening an unarmed maid more than "just a little," etc.) had proved to Jack that White was unsuitable for the life of a pirate, then this was the evidence he needed. A crewman who was incompetent could be taught how things were done. One that didn't take orders could be "persuaded" to do so. The Pirate's Code could be beat into one's head. However, no captain could spare the time it would take to put a spine in a jellyfish. "Mr. Gibbs, please tell White that he is strongly encouraged to spend the remainder of our trip in his bunk, and that he'd best start thinking of finding a new occupation."
The Black Pearl's crew was good to their orders. Less than an hour after Winn had been escorted off her ship, the Kestrel was sail-less. Her masts and assorted rigging stood against the setting sun like shadows thrown by a candle's flame. Looking out the window of her chosen perch, Winn noted how much smaller and more delicate her ship looked without the wind filling the canvasses.
All the pirates were back on board now. She could hear their shouts, feel the surface underneath her start to gently pitch with the unmistakable motion of a live ship. She watched as Captain Riley addressed his crew in much the same way that Captain Sparrow had earlier. She knew now that she truly was to be on the Pearl for an undefined amount of time. For a moment or two that afternoon, a part of her had been foolish enough to hope otherwise.
She turned to that part of herself now and ruthlessly crushed it beneath the heel of reality. It was much better to be practical than to have hopes and dreams that could be exploited by others. It was even better to be completely emotionless - to give adversaries no grip on her at all - but she knew better than to attempt or expect that.
With a sigh, Winn rested her head against the glass of the window. Her ship was already starting to shrink with distance. Having nothing else to do she closed her eyes against the reddish light of the setting sun, and settled to sleep.
Jack left his position at the helm to Cotton (the man, tongue or no, knew how to sail a ship) and walked to the quarterdeck, swaying with the motion of the ship beneath him. What looked like a stagger on dry land was revealed to be a permanent case of sea-legs.
When he had made it half-way across the deck, a shout caught his attention. "Capt'n! You'd better come see to this," Ana Maria called.
Changing his heading (as pirate captains do instead of getting sidetracked), Jack went to her. Ana Maria was standing next to a rather large and battered sea-chest. Its lid was closed, keeping its contents a secret. "What's all this?" asked Jack.
"This is what your lady friend was traveling with," she replied. Before Jack could correct her, she continued, "I had Bill and Black John haul her stuff over."
"Is this all they brought for the lass?" Jack looked at the trunk doubtfully. Most ladies traveled with up to a dozen trunks for a single voyage. Yes, Winn was odd, but this was highly unlikely.
"This," Ana Maria said gesturing to the trunk, "is all she had with her." Ana Maria watched with amusement as Jack's eyebrows inched up to be nearly hidden by his bandana.
Winnie certainly is full of surprises. The captain wondered what other surprises the girl had up her sleeves with a mixture of anticipation and chagrin. While puzzles were all good and fun, they more often than not ended up distracting you at inconvenient times.
Focusing back in on his companion, Jack made an effusive gesture with his arms. "Well, what are we waiting for, luv?" Ana Maria rolled her eyes. "Open her up. Let's see what milady Winifred travels with." With that, the lid was indeed lifted.
Inside the trunk they found a quite unusual assortment of objects. On top were several changes of clothes; full-legged breeches, ladies shirtwaists, elongated waistcoats, fingerless gloves in black and brown leather, stockings, a spare pair of sea-boots. All were of fine quality, to be sure, but they weren't exactly the dresses that they were expecting.
Underneath all those clothes was a layer of less innocent items. A brace of throwing knives, a sword in a well-worn scabbard, a pistol with enough shot and powder for several discharges, an empty sheath for a hideout knife. "Well, she's certainly ready for trouble," Jack mused aloud.
"Yes, so why didn't she fight when the ship was boarded?" Ana Maria's question was a good one. Jack was considering a reply when a box caught his eye. To be more precise, it was actually a wooden case embossed with the insignia of a well-known sugar plantation. A plantation that was as well known for its high quality rum as for its sugar.
"Well, well, well. What is dear Winnie doing with a bottle of rum that costs more than all her quality clothes put together? I think I shall have to confiscate it until I have a suitable answer to that question." Ana Maria gave Jack a look that said, yeah right.
"What about the weapons, Captain Sparrow? Shouldn't something be done about them?"
At this, Jack looked at Ana Maria thinking, She's in rare form today. Picking a dagger up, Jack said to her, "I think that we should hold on to these until our guest is acclimated to bein' here." Word was good as deed, and soon the utensils of warfare, as well as the rum, were spirited away.
Continuing on in their investigation (it was a rather large sea-chest), the two cohorts found more mundane items than those they last uncovered. There was a sketch book and charcoal, a leather-bound journal, an alto recorder (of all things), and several books. Underneath all of that was the trunk's wooden bottom.
Picking the sketchbook up out of the chest, Jack told Ana Maria, "Have one of the boys take this to my cabin. Then send Leech down with some food to check on the girl's cut." With that, the man walked off to study Winn's sketches, hoping to gain enough insight into the woman to come up with a plan of action.
The doors to the captain's cabin swung open so silently that Winn had no warning when two crewmen dropped her chest in the middle of the room. The thump of its impact woke her from her doze just in time to see them exit as another pirate come in.
She was surprised to see that wasn't the captain as she had expected, but a grimy sea-dog instead. Not that Captain Sparrow isn't plenty grimy himself, she thought. And this one isn't too bad as pirates go. She stayed perfectly still watching the man approach her position by the window.
The man who was called Leech for his surprisingly will developed medical skills, grinned when he saw the wary faced young woman. "Well lassie, I be Leech." He had a hint of Scottish brogue in his voice. If the lilting effect almost made Winn relax her guard, then his next words cured her of any inclination to do so. "The Capt'n sent me down to see to ye, and to tend to yer wound." Winn noticed the tray the man carried for the first time since he had entered. Still, she wasn't ready to let down her shield of indifferent belligerence.
"Please tell Captain Sparrow that I thank him for his concern, but his worries are unfounded. I would be ever so grateful if he could drop me by the nearest port." The ice of her words just slid off the elderly Scotsman. He just smiled at her as if he knew something that she didn't.
"Well, if that isn't the way of it then . . ." he trailed off. Collecting himself with a shake, Leech said with good humor, "You should eat something if you plan on doin' battle with the Capt'n." With those final words of advice, Leech left the cabin, leaving the tray of food along with a roll of bandages and a jar of salve on a nearby table.
Winn sat at her window for another moment, staring blankly into the empty cabin. Gathering her thoughts after some time, she finally noticed her trunk had been deposited in the room. Oh, get me out of these blasted skirts, she thought as she got up. Walking over to the trunk, shedding her dress and petticoats as she went, she knelt down on the slightly dirty floor and opened the lid.
Someone had gone through her belongings! Right, someone. As if I don't know who did this. Half-way though her fit of pique, she remembered her weapons. Ruffling though her belongs as had been done not too much earlier, she searched for her gun, knives, and sword, but to no avail. They were indeed gone, as was the bottle of her middle brother's rum that she had gotten as a joke for Will and Elizabeth's wedding present. She picked up the empty sheath to her hideout knife which was for some reason still in the chest – the knife itself was down her boot-top. Those . . . That . . . ohh . . .! Bloody pirate! "Bloody, bloody, dirty, self-serving, illiterate, bast –"