The two captains leant on the balcony railing, looking out across the bay
at the sparkling waters of the Caribbean. It had been almost a week since
they'd arrived in Port Royale, and not one day had gone by when they had
not had to hide because the commodore was visiting.
Elias suspected, though he wouldn't mention it to Jack, that the reason for Commodore Norrington's frequent visit was the intriguing Miss Delaney, who had gone out of her way to behave herself in front of him after Elizabeth had delivered a tongue-lashing the evening of the first day.
He sighed in boredom, leaning back to retrieve his bottle of grog where it lay nearby. Beside him, Jack stared with dull eyes at the headland, where a young couple could just be seen making the most of the afternoon.
'Why did we ever agree to come here, lad?' Elias sighed again, taking a huge gulp of grog.
Jack shrugged.
'You're here because of Marin,' he muttered. 'I dunno why I'm here.'
Elias grinned, watching the tiny figures on the hill with a knowing smile.
'Aye, ye do, lad,' he corrected his friend. 'Yer here fer the same reason I am, though ye'd never admit it.'
Jack didn't grace him with an answer, turning away to take a swig of rum from his own bottle. There was a lengthy pause.
'I suppose you'll be letting her marry her young man soon then?' Jack asked suddenly, staring pointedly at the rum swirling in the bottom of his jar.
'What young man would that be?'
Jack sighed softly.
'The one she thinks about so much,' he murmured, trying to suppress the ache that seemed to rise within him every time he thought of Marin and her young man.
Elias stared at him incredulously for a moment, before giving in to an overwhelming surge of laughter that echoed through the old house. Jack glanced at him irritably, wondering what it was he'd said that was so funny. The older captain was clutching at his sides as his laughter began to fade, dissolving into chuckles as he drew some semblance of calm about himself.
'Whatever gave ye the thought that Marin had a young man?' he asked, unable to mask his incredulity.
Jack fought to hold down on the swell of hope that rose within him, refusing to turn and face his old mentor in case Elias could still read him as well as before.
'She hasn't then?' he pressed, his thoughts and pulse racing.
Elias sighed, forcing himself to calm down completely.
'Nay, lad, Marin ne'er so much as looked at any man in such a manner,' he told the younger man gently. 'Until now, that is.'
Jack frowned.
'Now?' he asked. 'What do you mean?'
Elias shook his head, not prepared to bring his little companion's wrath down on himself should she ever hear that he had told her greatest secret.
'Tis not my place to tell ye, lad,' he said quietly. 'Ye must be asking her yerself, if ye really be wishing to know.'
Jack sighed, shrugging indifferently.
'Where is she anyway?' he asked suddenly. 'While we're cooped up in here?'
The older captain waved his hand dismissively.
'Ah, that high and mighty commodore invited her to take a look around the fort,' he said absently. 'He seems to have taken a fancy to her. Maybe he's that young man ye've been worrying about.'
He watched, from the corner of his eye, as Jack's faced darkened in mute fury. The irascible pirate's knuckles whitened, his hands gripping the balcony rail so tightly they could hear the wood creak in protest.
'Over my dead body,' he muttered, his eyes flashing dangerously.
He could give up Marin to anyone, he knew. Anyone but that bloody Norrington.
*~*~*
The streets of Port Royale seemed almost deserted as Commodore Norrington escorted his young companion through the town on the road to Governor's House. Marin had spent a highly enjoyable afternoon, trying to prevent herself from laughing as the officer gave her a tour of the fort that didn't include areas he thought ladies shouldn't see, such as the cells.
'Forgive me, Miss Delaney,' he said suddenly, turning slightly to look at her. 'Might I be permitted to pose a question?'
Marin smiled. Despite herself, she liked this stiff reserved man, and for all his faults, found him very good company.
'Of course you may, commodore,' she told him, wondering what on earth he could possibly want to know.
'I knew your father, Robert Delaney,' he began, and Marin had to tell herself not to panic, there was no way he knew of her pirate connections. 'He died some nineteen or so years ago, and yet you have only just come to the Caribbean. May I inquire as to why?'
Marin sighed softly, forcing herself to relax.
'There is a simple enough reason, commodore,' she told him, quickly running through the lies Elizabeth had helped her with when it became clear the commodore was interested by her. 'When my father died, it was stated in his will that I should not become landowner of his estates until I came of age. There was no reason for me to be in the Caribbean before then, and since I will be turning twenty-one at around midnight tonight, now seemed the best time to come to Port Royale.'
Norrington smiled down at her, thankfully taken in by her story.
'Then, may I congratulate you on gaining your twenty-first year?' he said softly, bowing slightly as they continued on their way.
He liked this young woman, her unusual mannerisms and accent serving only to heighten her attraction for him. Frequently over the past week, she had come out with highly inappropriate comments as they walked together, seemingly mortified that she had said them but for the amused twinkle in her eye. He could only put this endearing behaviour down to her having been raised among the Irish elite, rather than the cream of British society.
Suddenly she froze, one hand on his arm to still his movement, and glanced around them, her eyes sharp. Somewhat alarmed by her state of tension, Norrington also began to look around, seeing nothing out of place in the shops and houses around them. It was only when Marin threw herself at him, knocking him to one side, that he realised what was happening.
A dagger glanced off the wall where his chest should have been. The two of them stood, each unconsciously mirroring the other, and watched as four burly men slipped from the shadows to stand before them.
Marin suppressed a gasp, recognising them as Danielson's men. She knew exactly what they had come for, acutely aware that her locket felt suddenly large and obtrusive nestled between her shift and corset. The men looked her over, obviously appreciating what they saw.
'Cap'n said you was a pretty piece,' one said, leering down at her in a way that made Marin long to knock his teeth up into his brain. 'Didn't say you was a lady.'
One of his smaller companions laughed, rubbing his hands together.
'Looks like this'll be easier than we thought, eh, lads?'
Marin fought to keep her smile from her face. Thank God for pre- conceptions, she thought. Not even a pirate would find it easy to fight a 'lady'. There was a sharp metallic sound beside her. Norrington had drawn his sword.
'Miss Delaney,' he muttered, moving to stand between her and the pirates. 'Run to the fort and tell them what is happening.'
She shook her head, slipping to his side.
'It's me they're here for.'
Without further preamble, the pirates fell on them, raining blows without mercy. Norrington found it relatively easy to run the first through, though fighting the two who followed proved unpleasant to say the least. He glanced up, shocked to see Marin cornered by the fourth of their attackers, her back hitting the wall as she ran out of options. Just as he prepared to run to her rescue, a fist connected with his chin, throwing his backwards against the wall, and he felt the cold steel of a sabre penetrate his guard, cutting into his abdomen with a cruel twist.
Helpless, he crumpled to the cobbles, unable to do anything but watch in horror as the three remaining pirates surrounded the defenceless young woman. Something was said between them, he couldn't hear what, as the largest of the men reached for her bodice. Norrington could look away, desperately hoping for rescue, a patrol to come by, and so witnessed the next few moments with startling clarity.
Marin brought her knee up hard, slipping under the pirate's arm and slamming his head against the stone wall as she wrenched his sabre from its sheath. His dagger dragged across her arm as he fell with a thud, out for the count. Stifling a sharp cry for fear of alerting others of Danielson's crew who could be nearby, Marin backed up, testing the weight and balance of the blade she held in her hand. With precision that can only come from years of practise, she fell on the other two, aware that their strength was no match for her agility. Still, a lucky blow from the smaller of the two sent her reeling backwards into a wall, sliding down as she forced her eyes to focus, blood trickling from her mouth.
Norrington watched in fascination as she drew her skirt up over her knees, revealing sea boots that appeared well lived-in, and withdrew from one of them a blade as long as her forearm. Her hand was a blur of movement, another pirate falling, the dirk buried in his throat. As the last turned to stare in horror at his fallen companions, Marin threw herself at him, knocking his sabre from his hand as she grappled him to the cobbles. They struggled for a long moment, before she got a good enough grip on his head to slam it down onto the unyielding stone. He gave a groan, and slumped, unconscious.
Breathing heavily, her wounds trickling warm blood across her skin, Marin knelt beside the fallen commodore, tearing open his coat and shirt to ascertain the extent of his wound. She drew the blood stained cloth from the gash gently, ignoring him as he stared at her. Ripping at her skirt, she padded the wound, holding the rich cloth tight against his side to stem the blood flow. Needing something to secure her makeshift bandage with, she tugged at his cravat, pulling the length of cloth free, and froze in shock.
Around his neck hung a silver locket, of a size unusual in such well-made pieces. The interlocking rings gleamed in the afternoon sunlight, the lower right one embossed with a faint chain. Without thinking, she reached out to touch the smooth metal in fascination. Norrington's hand grasped her wrist tightly, keeping her fingers from the trinket. He glared up at her with pain-filled eyes.
'You . . . you're a pirate,' he gasped, hissing as she secured the pad against him with his own cravat.
'Aye, that I am,' she told him, unconsciously lapsing into Elias' speech patterns. 'And I'll thank you to note that I've just saved your life.'
With something akin to a bitter chuckle, Norrington subsided, allowing her to pull him to his feet, now unafraid to lean on her. They made their slow way back to the fort, both fully aware of the reason for the deserted streets. If the townspeople were aware that Danielson's men were about, then who could blame them for staying indoors?
The men on duty spotted them as they staggered out from the shadows of the houses, running forward to relieve her of Norrington's sagging body. The fort became a sudden flurry of movement, in the midst of which a call could be heard for the surgeon. Marin leant heavily against the wall, glad to be overlooked as she drew in her strength for the walk up to Governor's House.
As the soldiers filed out to search the town for the pirates, a familiar figure slipped along the wall to her side.
'What happened, lass?'
Marin looked up into Gibbs' concerned features and had to fight to keep from weeping in relief.
'Danielson's men jumped us,' she told him shortly.
His frown deepened as he looked over her, noting the bloodstains that decorated her tattered dress. He lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.
'Not all that is his, is it, lass?' he asked sternly.
Wearily, she shook her head, feeling her strength begin to seep from her limbs. Gibbs caught her gently as she swayed, lifting the injured young woman into his arms and making his way out through the gate with her cradled against him. There would be hell to pay for this, he decided, even if Jack didn't try for revenge.
*~*~*
Heya! Still no beta, so I apologise if this chapter was simply dreadful, though jackfan2 inspired me with her review of the last one. Thanks, love!
Well, I'm all out of inspiration again. I have a plot and I know where I want to go, I just don't know how to get there. Sound familiar to anyone? Suggestions are most welcome. *points to the little blue button* You know what to do . . .
Elias suspected, though he wouldn't mention it to Jack, that the reason for Commodore Norrington's frequent visit was the intriguing Miss Delaney, who had gone out of her way to behave herself in front of him after Elizabeth had delivered a tongue-lashing the evening of the first day.
He sighed in boredom, leaning back to retrieve his bottle of grog where it lay nearby. Beside him, Jack stared with dull eyes at the headland, where a young couple could just be seen making the most of the afternoon.
'Why did we ever agree to come here, lad?' Elias sighed again, taking a huge gulp of grog.
Jack shrugged.
'You're here because of Marin,' he muttered. 'I dunno why I'm here.'
Elias grinned, watching the tiny figures on the hill with a knowing smile.
'Aye, ye do, lad,' he corrected his friend. 'Yer here fer the same reason I am, though ye'd never admit it.'
Jack didn't grace him with an answer, turning away to take a swig of rum from his own bottle. There was a lengthy pause.
'I suppose you'll be letting her marry her young man soon then?' Jack asked suddenly, staring pointedly at the rum swirling in the bottom of his jar.
'What young man would that be?'
Jack sighed softly.
'The one she thinks about so much,' he murmured, trying to suppress the ache that seemed to rise within him every time he thought of Marin and her young man.
Elias stared at him incredulously for a moment, before giving in to an overwhelming surge of laughter that echoed through the old house. Jack glanced at him irritably, wondering what it was he'd said that was so funny. The older captain was clutching at his sides as his laughter began to fade, dissolving into chuckles as he drew some semblance of calm about himself.
'Whatever gave ye the thought that Marin had a young man?' he asked, unable to mask his incredulity.
Jack fought to hold down on the swell of hope that rose within him, refusing to turn and face his old mentor in case Elias could still read him as well as before.
'She hasn't then?' he pressed, his thoughts and pulse racing.
Elias sighed, forcing himself to calm down completely.
'Nay, lad, Marin ne'er so much as looked at any man in such a manner,' he told the younger man gently. 'Until now, that is.'
Jack frowned.
'Now?' he asked. 'What do you mean?'
Elias shook his head, not prepared to bring his little companion's wrath down on himself should she ever hear that he had told her greatest secret.
'Tis not my place to tell ye, lad,' he said quietly. 'Ye must be asking her yerself, if ye really be wishing to know.'
Jack sighed, shrugging indifferently.
'Where is she anyway?' he asked suddenly. 'While we're cooped up in here?'
The older captain waved his hand dismissively.
'Ah, that high and mighty commodore invited her to take a look around the fort,' he said absently. 'He seems to have taken a fancy to her. Maybe he's that young man ye've been worrying about.'
He watched, from the corner of his eye, as Jack's faced darkened in mute fury. The irascible pirate's knuckles whitened, his hands gripping the balcony rail so tightly they could hear the wood creak in protest.
'Over my dead body,' he muttered, his eyes flashing dangerously.
He could give up Marin to anyone, he knew. Anyone but that bloody Norrington.
*~*~*
The streets of Port Royale seemed almost deserted as Commodore Norrington escorted his young companion through the town on the road to Governor's House. Marin had spent a highly enjoyable afternoon, trying to prevent herself from laughing as the officer gave her a tour of the fort that didn't include areas he thought ladies shouldn't see, such as the cells.
'Forgive me, Miss Delaney,' he said suddenly, turning slightly to look at her. 'Might I be permitted to pose a question?'
Marin smiled. Despite herself, she liked this stiff reserved man, and for all his faults, found him very good company.
'Of course you may, commodore,' she told him, wondering what on earth he could possibly want to know.
'I knew your father, Robert Delaney,' he began, and Marin had to tell herself not to panic, there was no way he knew of her pirate connections. 'He died some nineteen or so years ago, and yet you have only just come to the Caribbean. May I inquire as to why?'
Marin sighed softly, forcing herself to relax.
'There is a simple enough reason, commodore,' she told him, quickly running through the lies Elizabeth had helped her with when it became clear the commodore was interested by her. 'When my father died, it was stated in his will that I should not become landowner of his estates until I came of age. There was no reason for me to be in the Caribbean before then, and since I will be turning twenty-one at around midnight tonight, now seemed the best time to come to Port Royale.'
Norrington smiled down at her, thankfully taken in by her story.
'Then, may I congratulate you on gaining your twenty-first year?' he said softly, bowing slightly as they continued on their way.
He liked this young woman, her unusual mannerisms and accent serving only to heighten her attraction for him. Frequently over the past week, she had come out with highly inappropriate comments as they walked together, seemingly mortified that she had said them but for the amused twinkle in her eye. He could only put this endearing behaviour down to her having been raised among the Irish elite, rather than the cream of British society.
Suddenly she froze, one hand on his arm to still his movement, and glanced around them, her eyes sharp. Somewhat alarmed by her state of tension, Norrington also began to look around, seeing nothing out of place in the shops and houses around them. It was only when Marin threw herself at him, knocking him to one side, that he realised what was happening.
A dagger glanced off the wall where his chest should have been. The two of them stood, each unconsciously mirroring the other, and watched as four burly men slipped from the shadows to stand before them.
Marin suppressed a gasp, recognising them as Danielson's men. She knew exactly what they had come for, acutely aware that her locket felt suddenly large and obtrusive nestled between her shift and corset. The men looked her over, obviously appreciating what they saw.
'Cap'n said you was a pretty piece,' one said, leering down at her in a way that made Marin long to knock his teeth up into his brain. 'Didn't say you was a lady.'
One of his smaller companions laughed, rubbing his hands together.
'Looks like this'll be easier than we thought, eh, lads?'
Marin fought to keep her smile from her face. Thank God for pre- conceptions, she thought. Not even a pirate would find it easy to fight a 'lady'. There was a sharp metallic sound beside her. Norrington had drawn his sword.
'Miss Delaney,' he muttered, moving to stand between her and the pirates. 'Run to the fort and tell them what is happening.'
She shook her head, slipping to his side.
'It's me they're here for.'
Without further preamble, the pirates fell on them, raining blows without mercy. Norrington found it relatively easy to run the first through, though fighting the two who followed proved unpleasant to say the least. He glanced up, shocked to see Marin cornered by the fourth of their attackers, her back hitting the wall as she ran out of options. Just as he prepared to run to her rescue, a fist connected with his chin, throwing his backwards against the wall, and he felt the cold steel of a sabre penetrate his guard, cutting into his abdomen with a cruel twist.
Helpless, he crumpled to the cobbles, unable to do anything but watch in horror as the three remaining pirates surrounded the defenceless young woman. Something was said between them, he couldn't hear what, as the largest of the men reached for her bodice. Norrington could look away, desperately hoping for rescue, a patrol to come by, and so witnessed the next few moments with startling clarity.
Marin brought her knee up hard, slipping under the pirate's arm and slamming his head against the stone wall as she wrenched his sabre from its sheath. His dagger dragged across her arm as he fell with a thud, out for the count. Stifling a sharp cry for fear of alerting others of Danielson's crew who could be nearby, Marin backed up, testing the weight and balance of the blade she held in her hand. With precision that can only come from years of practise, she fell on the other two, aware that their strength was no match for her agility. Still, a lucky blow from the smaller of the two sent her reeling backwards into a wall, sliding down as she forced her eyes to focus, blood trickling from her mouth.
Norrington watched in fascination as she drew her skirt up over her knees, revealing sea boots that appeared well lived-in, and withdrew from one of them a blade as long as her forearm. Her hand was a blur of movement, another pirate falling, the dirk buried in his throat. As the last turned to stare in horror at his fallen companions, Marin threw herself at him, knocking his sabre from his hand as she grappled him to the cobbles. They struggled for a long moment, before she got a good enough grip on his head to slam it down onto the unyielding stone. He gave a groan, and slumped, unconscious.
Breathing heavily, her wounds trickling warm blood across her skin, Marin knelt beside the fallen commodore, tearing open his coat and shirt to ascertain the extent of his wound. She drew the blood stained cloth from the gash gently, ignoring him as he stared at her. Ripping at her skirt, she padded the wound, holding the rich cloth tight against his side to stem the blood flow. Needing something to secure her makeshift bandage with, she tugged at his cravat, pulling the length of cloth free, and froze in shock.
Around his neck hung a silver locket, of a size unusual in such well-made pieces. The interlocking rings gleamed in the afternoon sunlight, the lower right one embossed with a faint chain. Without thinking, she reached out to touch the smooth metal in fascination. Norrington's hand grasped her wrist tightly, keeping her fingers from the trinket. He glared up at her with pain-filled eyes.
'You . . . you're a pirate,' he gasped, hissing as she secured the pad against him with his own cravat.
'Aye, that I am,' she told him, unconsciously lapsing into Elias' speech patterns. 'And I'll thank you to note that I've just saved your life.'
With something akin to a bitter chuckle, Norrington subsided, allowing her to pull him to his feet, now unafraid to lean on her. They made their slow way back to the fort, both fully aware of the reason for the deserted streets. If the townspeople were aware that Danielson's men were about, then who could blame them for staying indoors?
The men on duty spotted them as they staggered out from the shadows of the houses, running forward to relieve her of Norrington's sagging body. The fort became a sudden flurry of movement, in the midst of which a call could be heard for the surgeon. Marin leant heavily against the wall, glad to be overlooked as she drew in her strength for the walk up to Governor's House.
As the soldiers filed out to search the town for the pirates, a familiar figure slipped along the wall to her side.
'What happened, lass?'
Marin looked up into Gibbs' concerned features and had to fight to keep from weeping in relief.
'Danielson's men jumped us,' she told him shortly.
His frown deepened as he looked over her, noting the bloodstains that decorated her tattered dress. He lifted her chin, forcing her to look into his eyes.
'Not all that is his, is it, lass?' he asked sternly.
Wearily, she shook her head, feeling her strength begin to seep from her limbs. Gibbs caught her gently as she swayed, lifting the injured young woman into his arms and making his way out through the gate with her cradled against him. There would be hell to pay for this, he decided, even if Jack didn't try for revenge.
*~*~*
Heya! Still no beta, so I apologise if this chapter was simply dreadful, though jackfan2 inspired me with her review of the last one. Thanks, love!
Well, I'm all out of inspiration again. I have a plot and I know where I want to go, I just don't know how to get there. Sound familiar to anyone? Suggestions are most welcome. *points to the little blue button* You know what to do . . .