Chapter 12
Disclaimer: Shocking as it may be, Disney has not yet knocked on my door and offered me exclusive rights to "Pirates of the Caribbean." Isn't that odd?
The sun had been up barely an hour the next day when the Commodore stepped blinking up onto the deck. He had given up on his coat-it was too hot to be traipsing around in dark blue in such burning sun when he didn't really need to anyway. The crew moved about him, performing their duties at a lazy enough pitch that he knew nothing extraordinary was going on.
Gillette approached him almost immediately. "Good morning Commodore."
"Gillette. It appears we've survived a night with Pearl at the helm."
"So it would seem," he answered. "She requested a moment of your time, as soon at you have it."
"I'm guessing her exact words were a bit less refined," Norrington remarked, forcibly hiding the ice lodged in his gut.
"Indeed," he confirmed. "Something along the lines of 'Tell that bloody scallywag you call a Commodore to get his lazy arse up here when first you see him.'"
"I'll get to it," Norrington promised with a grin as he moved to chat with Port.
He worked his way slowly toward the helm, chatting freely with the men. When he arrived at last he received a long-suffering sigh from the girl. "All right, I'm small and insignificant and you are the Commodore and certainly don't have to hurry to my side just because I've called. I get it. Loud and clear, although I thought you were above childish games."
He sighed. And she'd been so amiable last night. Actually, he realized, he preferred her in a temper. "Did you want something, Pearl?"
"You," she answered.
"Specifically?"
Her eyebrows rose. He knew he was setting himself up but his eyes dared her to say what jumped into her twisted mind. "Your hands, specifically." '
"Really. And what would you like my hands to do?"
Grabbing him by the arm she hauled him into her spot, planting his hands firmly on the wheel. "Steer. Just keep us headed due east."
"Where are you going?"
"To get a few hours of sleep. I won't be too long, I promise. We should be into Tortuga about sunset."
Port, who had somehow ended up behind him, cheered. "Perfect timing."
"I would say so," Pearl affirmed. "So do you think you can keep us headed east?"
"Yes," he answered through gritted teeth. "Although I hardly see why I should let you run off to lay around when you're the one that insisted on taking the night shift."
She stiffened, glaring at him. "I certainly don't have to sleep. I'm used to going without. But if I'm going to haul a Commodore around Tortuga it wouldn't be a bad idea for me to be on top of my game."
With a sigh he nodded agreement. "Just see to it you're back in time to keep us on course. I don't fancy losing any time."
"Nor do I. I'll see you in a few hours."
Pearl grinned as Port called, "Tortuga ho!" from the crow's nest. It had only been a few hours ago that she had come skipping out of the good Commodore's cabin to shove him away from the wheel and tell him to make himself useful while she brought them home. Muttering about liking her better grouchy from lack of sleep he had gone to take her advice, ignoring her suggestion of ways he could keep her awake if he liked it so well.
In truth, he had spent the majority of the time standing behind her and feeling totally useless. She had been more than happy to help encourage that feeling in any way she could, mostly by ordering her men to do useless tasks just to prove that she could. Worse yet, they all obeyed, often cheerfully.
"Gillette," she called down, "you had better go change. And take your officers with you. Tortuga ain't exactly the sort of place where red is in fashion, savvy?"
"I assure you I have no intention of going on shore."
She shook her head. "Fine, but you'd better plan on staying out of sight. If anyone in Tortuga spots a red coat they won't hesitate to attack. Now, I'm all for a good, old fashioned throw-down, but there is such a thing as asking for unneeded trouble."
Gillette glared at her, but he disappeared below deck with his officers following. "You know, you could take it easy on him, even if you do feel the need to torture me," Norrington remarked.
"Nah. More fun to torture both of you."
"Thanks. How long are we going to have to stay here?"
"Eh. I'll cut the deal with Cane tonight but he won't do it until tomorrow morning. We should be able to set off about midday. Listen, I want you to give the men leave as soon as we get there."
"No," Norrington said immediately. "Absolutely not. I need them here to guard the ship."
"That's what Gillette and his boys are for. Listen, they will love you if you do this. Follow you to the ends of the Earth or into the mouth of death if you ask."
"Half of them will be passed out drunk come noon tomorrow and the rest will be murdered. We won't have a crew left to get us back to Port Royal!"
"You've heard too many tails of Tortuga, and believed too much of what you've heard," she scolded. "It isn't that bad. Every man will make it back in time. I guarantee it."
"You know, you're developing a habit of asking me to trust you," he remarked.
"Yep. And you're developing a dangerous habit of taking my advice."
"If it's dangerous maybe I should stop."
"You have a pirate at your helm. I'd say taking my advice is considerably less dangerous."
"I'll think on it," he said as he watched the port approach, painted red by the setting sun. Gun shots reverberated over the water. "Are they fighting?"
Pearl shrugged. "Just the drunks coming out. Usually just firing into the air, although you can never be certain."
"Thank you. That's very comforting."
"Nothing comforting about Tortuga," she answered. "That's the charm of the place."
Pearl expertly pulled the ship directly up to the dock. Norrington found himself impressed and even Gillette could find nothing to fault in her procedures. Calling Gillette over as Pearl moved to help the men secure the ship to the dock he asked in a hushed tone, "Do you think you and the officers could keep the ship safe tonight?"
"I'd well imagine. Why?"
"I think the men would appreciate a little shore leave," he said, watching his men sending furtive glances toward the raucous town.
"You must be joking! We'd never see them again."
"Pearl thinks they will."
"And what if they don't?"
"Then we've proven Pearl Sparrow wrong," Norrington answered with a shrug.
An odd light came into Gillette's eyes and he nodded. "Why not? I'm certain we can hold the ship."
"Good man," Norrington said, moving to watch them finish securing the ship. As soon as it was done he called, "All right men. Anyone not here by noon tomorrow can seek other employment! In the mean time, do as you will!"
With a great cry the men rushed the gang plank. Several clasped him hard on the back as they rushed by. He couldn't help but smile at that. He'd never gotten such companionship from the regular crew. He turned to find Pearl beaming knowingly up at him. "Oh, shut up," he ordered.
"What? I'm simply awaiting your orders."
Chuckling he turned to Gillette. "Guard her well."
"You can count on it, Commodore."
Pearl fell into step beside him as he crossed the plank onto the dock. "Where is this smith of yours?"
"His shop is down there," she said with a wave to the right. "But the sun's set so he's sitting in The Whore's Sister."
"Sounds like a lovely place."
"It isn't," Pearl answered. "We always avoided it. Don't worry, I can handle myself. And you. I just don't go looking for trouble. Speaking of which, while we're here you're Edward. People might know your name and you definitely don't want to advertise who you are in this town."
"All right," Norrington agreed grudgingly.
They wound through the streets. Norrington was fairly impressed with his self-control, keeping his eyes firmly forward. When a group of men beside them decomposed into a pile of fists and grunts Pearl guided him easily around without missing a beat. Whores everywhere called offers. An extremely dirty man stumbled about, aiming a lazy pistol at them. Pearl brushed him easily aside.
It took him nearly three bocks to figure out that Pearl's walk had changed. She always had a solid walk, even on a ship rocking in a storm. She had long legs and tended to take long and purposeful strides that got her where she was going quickly. It had caught him a bit off guard at first simply because Ladies couldn't do such things in skirts--were taught not to, in fact. When he had first found her in pants he had expected her to adopt the swagger her father favored. That, he had come to realize, was probably a symptom of too much rum and too many years of being on a rocking ship more than dry land. Pearl seemed equally sure of step on either without a hint of her father's half-hazard stumbling.
Now, however, her stride was more purposeful than ever. Her head was up, eyes challenging, or perhaps warning, everyone they passed. He realized this was what the girl looked like when she was uncomfortable, which chilled him.
"Pearl!" They both turned at that. A woman in a bright yellow dress marched up to them. "You left!"
"Sorry to disappoint you, Ruby. Trouble seems to be following me around. Oh, Edward, this is my sister. Ruby, Edward."
"It's a pleasure to meet-" he began but both women waived him off.
"He's a pretty piece. You ruined him for the rest of us yet?" the woman asked, eyeing him as if he were a piece of meet.
"No. I leave that to you professionals," Pearl shot back. "You're welcome to have a try at him if you can tolerate my company."
Ruby snorted. "No thanks. Visited Ma yet?"
"No. I'll get there," she promised. "We leave at noon tomorrow."
"I'll be sure to keep away."
"Love you too," she answered with a shake of her head as she grabbed Norrington and led him past her.
"You and your sister not on particularly good terms?" he asked.
Pearl shrugged. "She's jealous. It isn't fair that we were both born to a prostitute and she works the streets while I run off to sail on my father's ship."
"It's hardly your fault," he remarked.
"That doesn't make it any more fair," she answered. "We're here. Listen, just follow my lead. I know it'll be hard, but try not to say anything unless you're pushed into it."
He sighed heavily but nodded, waving his arm to indicate she should precede him into the tavern.
She did, pausing inside the door to take a careful look around. It was quieter than most taverns, which still wasn't saying much. The men were atrociously dirty, smelly, and most covered in an odd twinning of scars and tattoos. Tattoos and scars decorated the whores and wenches (mostly one was indiscernible from the other) as well. Pearl's eyes settled on a table in the middle the room containing a particularly dirty but largely unscarred man whose tattered shirt hung open as he held a rumpled-looking whore on his knee.
With a nod over her shoulder she strode up to the table. "Why don't you take a break, Bianca? Come back in ten minutes."
"And who do you think you are miss-" She stopped when she looked up at the woman standing over her. "Pearl! Of course, no troubles. I mean, you're hardly going to steal my business, right?"
"Right," she assured the woman who scrambled away. Pearl took a seat next to him, motioning for Norrington to sit as well. "I need to talk to you, Cane."
"You don't say? Do I bloody go out and drag you off yer boat?"
"It's a ship. And I wouldn't put it past you if you wanted something."
"That don't change the fact that I don't interrupt yer fun. Why you interuptin' mine?"
"Because I have a job for you. Work pays for play."
"Well, since you already chased my toy off sos I'm listinin'."
"I need a new rudder chain on a nice size ship, and I need it soon. I'm in a frightful hurry."
"I got plans for tonight."
"First thing tomorrow. We sail at noon. Take it or leave it, but you're looking at a good deal of gold. We want to pay for the chain, and you can have the broken one to fix and resell at your convenience."
He eyed her, considering. "I happen to have something as would probably do. It ain't the Pearl we're talkin' of I'd not be talkin' to you." He eyed Norrington. "And he's too clean to be your father's. Net yerself a good one?"
"None of your business. You'll do it then?" she demanded.
His eyes continued to rake her. "You know, Lass, I could just charge ya for the chain if you'd be me toy for the evenin'."
"I'd rather bathe in leeches, thanks. You'll be paid right and proper."
"All right. I'd wager I could have you all patched up by noon tomorrow. There is the matter of price. I could see clear to do it for a thousand."
Pearl laughed at that. "For a thousand you had best replace both chains and the anchor. I could see clear to paying two hundred."
"The raw metal to build a chain would cost more than that," the man argued.
Norrington listened to then heckle, trade insults, and offer various drinks and a good words to whores (Pearl apparently had some very talented friends) before they settled on a price. Norrington was actually fairly impressed with the price. He doubted he could have done much better in Port Royal himself.
"Half up front, o' course," the smith remarked.
"Not this time," she said. "We're a little light, courtesy of my father. I'll bring you the money when I get back in a few days."
"Ho, no. I have the money in my hand or you get no work," he ordered.
"I don't believe this. You know I'm good for it. You know my father is, or my mother. Surely-"
"Look, it ain't about trust. I knows you'll be back, but I'm a little light meself just now. I could use the coin straight up." She glared at him. "Listen, go ask Cork fer it. He'll give ya whatever ya want."
"Fine," she answered, voice hard-edged, "but I'm taking ten off the price."
"Now, lass-"
"No," she cut him off. "My time's worth something. If you're going to leave me running all over this bloody town you're going to pay for it."
"Fine!" he growled.
"Fine. Now, then, I'll go get your coins. You had best be sitting in this spot when I get back. No sneaking off with Bianca 'till you hear from me. Clear?"
"Crystalline," he spat.
"Good. Come Edward. We're going to go visit my mother."
Standing she marched heavily toward the door. "Who's Cork?"
"The man who owns the tavern my mother works in. He's always been partial to me. Closest thing I had to a father before Jack claimed me."
"I still can't believe he claimed you at all," Norrington remarked. "How old were you?"
She shook her head. "I was five the day I met him. Jack sidled up to my mother, started flirting. I was cleaning tables in the tavern. Cork paid me a little something to help out here and there. It wasn't 'till mother ordered me up to bed he even saw me." A grin softened her features. "He came right over to me. Kneeled straight in front of me, looked into my eyes, and said, 'Ain't that a sight?' Asked whose I was. Ma said I was her's, 'course. He asked me my name, and I told him–Pearl Staller, like me mother. He picked me up in his arms and told me my name was Pearl Sparrow. Pulled a necklace out of his pocket then and there and put it on me." She grinned, hand sliding to her neck. "God help me if I wasn't in love with him then and there. I've been told I didn't do too bad hookin' him myself. I'll never forget the tears in me mother's eyes."
"I never thought Sparrow would be that sort," Norrington remarked.
"He isn't. I blame Bootstrap– Will's father. He was forever blathering on about how he missed his son and his wife. Listen to that long enough the idea's bound to grow on you."
"I'd suppose," he remarked.
"Have you gotten there yet? The idea of wife and child and a dog by the hearth waiting for you starting to worm its way into your head?"
"A little, I suppose. That is why I proposed to Elizabeth, after all. What about you? Don't you ever wish for children?"
"Oh, no. Tortuga is no place to raise a child. And besides, I'm afraid I'll never see hearth and home as anything but a prison. I'm a different breed, you know. You're a noble and I'm a pirate. Give me a fast ship and water to the horizon!"
He shook his head. "You may some day change your mi-"
He was cut off by a sudden roar of "YOU!" A man rushed forward, grabbing him and shoving him against a wall with a knife at his throat. "I'll slit you're gullet, I will."
Suddenly the grey steel of a sword came into view, poised just under his chin. "No, you won't," Pearl's calm, hard voice interrupted. "Put him down, Nay."
"He's a bloody Captain, Pearl, in the British Navy."
"Actually he's a Commodore. I've guaranteed him his safety, Nay, as has my father. Put him down."
Suddenly Norrington recognized the man. He'd been attacking and sinking merchant vessels coming in from Spain and England. It had taken a truce with the Spanish Navy to catch him. Even then he had sailed off at the last moment, slipping through and disappearing.
"Now why should you do that? Is this yer new pretty-pretty? I'm sure Marden is mighty sad."
"My agenda is my own, Nay. I'm only telling you one more time, put him down or I take off your head."
"I'd manage to slit his throat."
"So you'd lose your life and I'd lose a Commodore. Who do you think would get the better deal here, Nay, because it sounds like me. You'd best listen to me. I'm more than able to make yer life miserable. I know every prostitute in this town, and a good three quarters of the pirates, includin' your crew. How does a good, ol' fashioned mutiny sound?"
"Y' wouldn't," he challenged.
"Have you ever known me to bluff?"
He shoved Norrington back, stepping carefully away. "Next time you won't be so lucky," he growled, turning to go.
"Anyone hears who he is I'm coming for you, Nay," she shouted after him.
Her attention was temporarily removed from Norrington, who was shaking with anger. The captain of a pirate fleet, one that had escaped him before. Not again. He strode forward, beginning to draw his sword.
Suddenly Pearl was in front of him, hand firmly on his closed fist, shoving his sword back into the scabbard. "What are you doing? I talk him out of killing you so you decide to try to prove me useless?"
"He's a pirate. He's pillaged a hundred ships."
"So have I. Are you going to bloody run me through?" she demanded angrily. "This is Tortuga. Every man in this street is a pirate. You're just going to have to learn to control your temper. Here, let me see this," she ordered, tilting his chin back to examine his neck.
"Thank you again," he said, trying to ignore how good her fingers felt on the soft flesh of his throat.
"For?"
"Saving my life again. You're becoming pretty useful. I might want to keep you around," he chuckled.
"Just stay with me. Before this trip is out you'll be singing a different tune. I dare say you'll live. It might bruise a bit but it isn't bleeding. Let's go find Cork," she ordered, turning to lead him through the filthy streets.
Rubbing at his throat he followed the girl. "Who's Marden?"
"What?"
"That man said Marden would be disappointed. Who's Marden?"
"Oh, him. A friend. One of my oldest, actually. Great man. Pirate."
"Maybe you could get married and sail the high seas together," Norrington suggested.
"That isn't possible."
"Why not?"
"Because I could never be his first mate, and he could never be mine. And even if we were both declared Captain one would have more pull and the other would resent it. Here we are. The Dancing Maiden. Home sweet home."
Author's Note: Okay, so that chapter wasn't as fun as some of the others have been, but there is a story line at work here and it needs developing from time to time. Next chapie will be great. Norrington meets the family, who aren't overly shy about telling him exactly what he should do with Pearl, and more trashy romance! Because I know that's what you're really after.
Now for everyone's favorite portion of the show, bribing the reviewers. So where did that leprechaun go?
Leprechaun appears, dragging a heavy pirate easily by the scruff of the jacket
"Rum!"
"Well, hello there. How was your trip?"
"RUM!"
"Yes, yes, rum. Let me just make sure you haven't killed poor Ja–this isn't Jack."
"RUM!" Small green creature begins jumping up and down
"This is not Jack Sparrow!" Looks down at the ugly, scarred, old, hairy pirate with kohl smeared around his eyes rather messily as if applied hurriedly by a small, green, mythical creature "This is Barbossa! I mean, ew! I said hot! On what planet is this considered hot?"
"RUM!"
"Well, I suppose if you drank enough rum..."
"NO! ME RUM!"
"You get no rum. You brought me the wrong guy. This is a disgusting undead pirate, you hyperactive excuse for an overgrown bullfrog."
"RUM!"
"You only get rum if you bring me Jack Sparrow."
Creature stops jumping up and down to glare at her "Little rum?"
"All right. Yes. I'll give you a little rum if you promise to bring me the right guy."
"Me promise. RUM!"
Hands him a small bottle of rum. Creature runs off, laughing maniacally "Wait! You have to take Barbossa back! I don't want him! Ew!" Pauses to stare down at the corpse on her floor. "Lovely. Wait, what did I do with that elf? Hey elf!"
"Yes, my Lady?"
"I told you I'm not a Lady."
"Apologies, my Lady."
"Right. Look, be a dear and drag this stinking thing out and dump it in some gutter or something, would you?"
"Yes, my Lady."
Shakes her head as she watches the elf drag him away "Not much in the way of brains, that one, but boy is he pretty to look at."
So review for you turn with Jack SOMEDAY. I promise!