Sea Maiden
A/N: Hi, much thanks to emerald medallion, my first reveiwer. I'm posting as I go, so sometimes the order will change, but I will give notice.
***
18 months later
Tortuga was living up to its reputation tonight, Jack noted, fairly pleased. The taverns were all full, the prostitutes were in unusually good looks and moods. With very good and hopefully potent rum, Jacks night was looking up. He only had the one night in Tortuga and he intended to enjoy it.
After the rumrunners rather unceremoniously left him on the dock eighteen months before he had lived in Tortuga for a month, waiting for word of The Black Pearl or Ann and The Maeve. After getting neither, he had signed up to the first ship going in the direction he wanted. While he had not been in his captaincy, it was still on the sea, and it was a way to search for the Pearl. That voyage which ended that afternoon had proved fruitless and so he had joined a new one, the downside being that it left in the morning.
With that in mind, Jack checked how much he had left in his purse and eyed the rather… buxom blonde by the fireplace. If he couldn't charm her, he had about enough. Jack prided himself on the fact he rarely had to pay, there were few women who could resist his charm.
Once again his thoughts turned to Ann. It was strange, she was always just there in the back of his mind. He had only really become aware of it when after a particularly enjoyable interlude 16 months earlier the woman asked who Ann was. He hadn't heard her saying she didn't mind, just to warn her next time, he had been too busy dressing and freaking out.
He took a pull of rum and looked around. Then choked and did a double take.
Ann was standing in the door of the tavern. He considered swearing off rum, then took another swig anyway. She was slightly taller than he remembered, and her hair was longer, but it was undeniably her standing there. Dressed in navy-issue trousers (A/N: you know, the white ones all the navy people in uniform wear) and a dark green dress jacket that was too large over a creamy poets shirt. God, she looked good.
The blonde woman forgotten, he watched Ann as she confidently moved to take a seat at a table with three men. They were all pirates, by the look, and hardened at that. None could have been under 40, Jack wondered what she was doing with them.
Well, she was drinking, that was for sure. The bottle she got a hold of was in no way water and she was not sipping it. By the color, Jack assumed it was rum. He was really starting to like this girl. She was what, 17, 18 now? Woman, she was a woman.
She didn't drink like one, but from what he remembered of her curves she was definitely a woman. He wondered if she had any new art work.
There was a thought, one that merited further investigation.
That in mind, he grabbed his bottle and stood, trying to work out the fastest way to get to her and to get her out of here.
It turned out he needn't have bothered. Four men, young and from their expressions, with more brawn than brains, approached her table and said something that made her companions go for their weapons, and Ann get to her feet. Though Jack couldn't hear what was said, he could make an educated guess. These men were obviously stupid, Jack knew from experience that no woman on Tortuga was given to taking any insults, years of dealing with the inhabitants of the port made the women tough, and given to carrying weapons. Jack believed this was where his taste in women came from, after being threatened colorfully by a Tortuga woman, trading spars and occasionally doing 'business'; the quiet and meek women prized by higher society lost all flavor.
Apparently Ann fit all his tastes. Whatever she said made the four thugs very angry and when one went for his knife, in a move he couldn't see Ann had the guy on the ground crying and trying to cradle both his arm and groin at the same time. Jack applauded with the rest of the tavern, highly entertained by the impromptu show. The other three backed off, dragging their fallen mate behind them.
Ann, however, seemed to have lost her taste for the tavern, taking her bottle and from the look of it making her excuses to her companions.
Jack was closer to the door, and knew an opportune moment when he saw one, making his way out he barely hade time to arrange himself to look casual before she stepped out. She exhaled, and took a swig of her bottle, then turned around and almost walked into him.
"Sorry," she muttered not looking up, making to sidestep him. He stepped in her way again, "How about another swim love?" he said.
Her head snapped up and it was her turn to choke on her drink. "Jack?" she said incredulously.
He was inordinately pleased she remembered him, even happier when upon recognizing him she threw her arms around him, breathing a hello in his ear. He held her a little longer and a little more tightly than was proper in most levels of society, before releasing her.
"See," she said, poking him lightly in the chest, "I told you we would meet again."
"So you did," he agreed, then made a mockery of a courtly bow and held out his arm, "Care to join me love?"
She smiled, taking his arm. She let him lead, they made their way down towards the docks, then away from them away from the town. Ann didn't appear discomfited in the least at their remoteness, but they had swum together, so he guessed she thought she could trust him. He felt the sudden and unfamiliar urge to prove worthy. He was Jack Sparrow, he reminded himself. Captain Jack Sparrow. Acting like a little boy.
He gave a short laugh, which drew a curious look from Ann, but she didn't question it.
When he found the perfect spot, a stretch of empty sand with a few bits of driftwood and a clear view out of the harbor to the open sea he gestured for her to sit. Ann seemed to appreciate it, she sat down, stretching her legs out in front of her and taking another long draw from her bottle.
"So, Jack, who are you really?" she asked meditatively, looking up at him.
He took a seat next to her, so close their shoulders were almost touching. He must have had some serious rum, he thought later, as he actually answered truthfully. "I'm the Captain Jack Sparrow, a shipless Captain who is not nearly as drunk as he'd like to be." A sense of absurdity struck him, "And as I'm sharing, I want a little information, savvy?"
"I'm Rhiannon Morgan," She said, "I sail on the Maeve, but under no particular rank, and I'm more drunk than my father would approve of."
Jack laughed at that. He raised his bottle in salute, "I'll drink to that love," he said. It occurred to him that he was sitting next to the daughter of Sam Morgan. That explained her ease on the ship, and her confidence in the tavern. No one would touch the daughter of the infamous pirate, especially as according to what he had seen and the few stories about her she could more than take care of herself. No one knew anything of her mother, she had just suddenly appeared one day, and disappeared a few years later. There were rumors of attack and such, but no one really knew.
"How long are you in Tortuga?" she asked, interrupting his reassessment.
"Just tonight, I have to be on deck by dawn," he said, feeling more than a little regretful, then a new thought struck him, "So, is it Ann or Rhiannon?"
"I like Rhian better," she said in a non-committal tone, "But I don't mind really either way."
"Rhian," Jack tested the name. He liked it, it suited her more then Ann.
"Jack," she replied. She lay back in the sand, looking up at the sky.
It was looking at her than: laying next to him, lit by moonlight, her eyes closed one arm holding a rum bottle and the other used to cushion her head, that he realized how much he wanted her.
She was the strangest woman he had ever met. She was a mix of practical and whimsy, she was well spoken and at the same time tough as most pirates, if he could judge by the amount of rum she was had drunk with no visible effect. She was hard and soft and unlike any other woman he knew. She could face a strange man on an island where she wouldn't be able to be helped and showed no fear. She would play hide and seek with said stranger. That had been enjoyable, he remembered, he had sneaked up behind her, grabbing her around the waist, causing her to jump and accidentally rub herself against him. The only problem was she apparently had no idea what she was doing to him.
"Why did you trust me, Rhian?" he asked suddenly, the need to know overwhelming. He knew he was probably making a fool of himself, he definitely wasn't acting like the image of Jack Sparrow he tried to cultivate. But he needed to know.
"Excuse me?" Rhian said, looking at him. Her accent still got stronger when she was surprised.
"When we first met, why did you trust me?"
"I don't know," she said, "I just did."
Jack nodded. He had a feeling she wouldn't answer, but he had hoped.
"I just looked at you and did," She continued, toying with her bottle, her eyes trained on the horizon, refusing to meet his eyes.
Jack gave his most rakish grin and lay down in the sand beside her.
The spent the night like that, laying next to each other and talking but more often just in comfortable silence. Jack was very pleased with himself when he managed to coax her to let him hold her in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. When dawn came, they parted ways, Rhian heading towards the town, Jack for the docks. Jack was tempted to jump ship, to stick around, just do something to stay longer, but this was not the opportune moment.
****
A/N: not sure about this chapter. Tell me what you think.
A/N: Hi, much thanks to emerald medallion, my first reveiwer. I'm posting as I go, so sometimes the order will change, but I will give notice.
***
18 months later
Tortuga was living up to its reputation tonight, Jack noted, fairly pleased. The taverns were all full, the prostitutes were in unusually good looks and moods. With very good and hopefully potent rum, Jacks night was looking up. He only had the one night in Tortuga and he intended to enjoy it.
After the rumrunners rather unceremoniously left him on the dock eighteen months before he had lived in Tortuga for a month, waiting for word of The Black Pearl or Ann and The Maeve. After getting neither, he had signed up to the first ship going in the direction he wanted. While he had not been in his captaincy, it was still on the sea, and it was a way to search for the Pearl. That voyage which ended that afternoon had proved fruitless and so he had joined a new one, the downside being that it left in the morning.
With that in mind, Jack checked how much he had left in his purse and eyed the rather… buxom blonde by the fireplace. If he couldn't charm her, he had about enough. Jack prided himself on the fact he rarely had to pay, there were few women who could resist his charm.
Once again his thoughts turned to Ann. It was strange, she was always just there in the back of his mind. He had only really become aware of it when after a particularly enjoyable interlude 16 months earlier the woman asked who Ann was. He hadn't heard her saying she didn't mind, just to warn her next time, he had been too busy dressing and freaking out.
He took a pull of rum and looked around. Then choked and did a double take.
Ann was standing in the door of the tavern. He considered swearing off rum, then took another swig anyway. She was slightly taller than he remembered, and her hair was longer, but it was undeniably her standing there. Dressed in navy-issue trousers (A/N: you know, the white ones all the navy people in uniform wear) and a dark green dress jacket that was too large over a creamy poets shirt. God, she looked good.
The blonde woman forgotten, he watched Ann as she confidently moved to take a seat at a table with three men. They were all pirates, by the look, and hardened at that. None could have been under 40, Jack wondered what she was doing with them.
Well, she was drinking, that was for sure. The bottle she got a hold of was in no way water and she was not sipping it. By the color, Jack assumed it was rum. He was really starting to like this girl. She was what, 17, 18 now? Woman, she was a woman.
She didn't drink like one, but from what he remembered of her curves she was definitely a woman. He wondered if she had any new art work.
There was a thought, one that merited further investigation.
That in mind, he grabbed his bottle and stood, trying to work out the fastest way to get to her and to get her out of here.
It turned out he needn't have bothered. Four men, young and from their expressions, with more brawn than brains, approached her table and said something that made her companions go for their weapons, and Ann get to her feet. Though Jack couldn't hear what was said, he could make an educated guess. These men were obviously stupid, Jack knew from experience that no woman on Tortuga was given to taking any insults, years of dealing with the inhabitants of the port made the women tough, and given to carrying weapons. Jack believed this was where his taste in women came from, after being threatened colorfully by a Tortuga woman, trading spars and occasionally doing 'business'; the quiet and meek women prized by higher society lost all flavor.
Apparently Ann fit all his tastes. Whatever she said made the four thugs very angry and when one went for his knife, in a move he couldn't see Ann had the guy on the ground crying and trying to cradle both his arm and groin at the same time. Jack applauded with the rest of the tavern, highly entertained by the impromptu show. The other three backed off, dragging their fallen mate behind them.
Ann, however, seemed to have lost her taste for the tavern, taking her bottle and from the look of it making her excuses to her companions.
Jack was closer to the door, and knew an opportune moment when he saw one, making his way out he barely hade time to arrange himself to look casual before she stepped out. She exhaled, and took a swig of her bottle, then turned around and almost walked into him.
"Sorry," she muttered not looking up, making to sidestep him. He stepped in her way again, "How about another swim love?" he said.
Her head snapped up and it was her turn to choke on her drink. "Jack?" she said incredulously.
He was inordinately pleased she remembered him, even happier when upon recognizing him she threw her arms around him, breathing a hello in his ear. He held her a little longer and a little more tightly than was proper in most levels of society, before releasing her.
"See," she said, poking him lightly in the chest, "I told you we would meet again."
"So you did," he agreed, then made a mockery of a courtly bow and held out his arm, "Care to join me love?"
She smiled, taking his arm. She let him lead, they made their way down towards the docks, then away from them away from the town. Ann didn't appear discomfited in the least at their remoteness, but they had swum together, so he guessed she thought she could trust him. He felt the sudden and unfamiliar urge to prove worthy. He was Jack Sparrow, he reminded himself. Captain Jack Sparrow. Acting like a little boy.
He gave a short laugh, which drew a curious look from Ann, but she didn't question it.
When he found the perfect spot, a stretch of empty sand with a few bits of driftwood and a clear view out of the harbor to the open sea he gestured for her to sit. Ann seemed to appreciate it, she sat down, stretching her legs out in front of her and taking another long draw from her bottle.
"So, Jack, who are you really?" she asked meditatively, looking up at him.
He took a seat next to her, so close their shoulders were almost touching. He must have had some serious rum, he thought later, as he actually answered truthfully. "I'm the Captain Jack Sparrow, a shipless Captain who is not nearly as drunk as he'd like to be." A sense of absurdity struck him, "And as I'm sharing, I want a little information, savvy?"
"I'm Rhiannon Morgan," She said, "I sail on the Maeve, but under no particular rank, and I'm more drunk than my father would approve of."
Jack laughed at that. He raised his bottle in salute, "I'll drink to that love," he said. It occurred to him that he was sitting next to the daughter of Sam Morgan. That explained her ease on the ship, and her confidence in the tavern. No one would touch the daughter of the infamous pirate, especially as according to what he had seen and the few stories about her she could more than take care of herself. No one knew anything of her mother, she had just suddenly appeared one day, and disappeared a few years later. There were rumors of attack and such, but no one really knew.
"How long are you in Tortuga?" she asked, interrupting his reassessment.
"Just tonight, I have to be on deck by dawn," he said, feeling more than a little regretful, then a new thought struck him, "So, is it Ann or Rhiannon?"
"I like Rhian better," she said in a non-committal tone, "But I don't mind really either way."
"Rhian," Jack tested the name. He liked it, it suited her more then Ann.
"Jack," she replied. She lay back in the sand, looking up at the sky.
It was looking at her than: laying next to him, lit by moonlight, her eyes closed one arm holding a rum bottle and the other used to cushion her head, that he realized how much he wanted her.
She was the strangest woman he had ever met. She was a mix of practical and whimsy, she was well spoken and at the same time tough as most pirates, if he could judge by the amount of rum she was had drunk with no visible effect. She was hard and soft and unlike any other woman he knew. She could face a strange man on an island where she wouldn't be able to be helped and showed no fear. She would play hide and seek with said stranger. That had been enjoyable, he remembered, he had sneaked up behind her, grabbing her around the waist, causing her to jump and accidentally rub herself against him. The only problem was she apparently had no idea what she was doing to him.
"Why did you trust me, Rhian?" he asked suddenly, the need to know overwhelming. He knew he was probably making a fool of himself, he definitely wasn't acting like the image of Jack Sparrow he tried to cultivate. But he needed to know.
"Excuse me?" Rhian said, looking at him. Her accent still got stronger when she was surprised.
"When we first met, why did you trust me?"
"I don't know," she said, "I just did."
Jack nodded. He had a feeling she wouldn't answer, but he had hoped.
"I just looked at you and did," She continued, toying with her bottle, her eyes trained on the horizon, refusing to meet his eyes.
Jack gave his most rakish grin and lay down in the sand beside her.
The spent the night like that, laying next to each other and talking but more often just in comfortable silence. Jack was very pleased with himself when he managed to coax her to let him hold her in his arms, her head resting on his shoulder. When dawn came, they parted ways, Rhian heading towards the town, Jack for the docks. Jack was tempted to jump ship, to stick around, just do something to stay longer, but this was not the opportune moment.
****
A/N: not sure about this chapter. Tell me what you think.