Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, yeah..
A/N: I live!! I'm sure you had all given up hope on me ever getting around to writing that next chapter.but after a fearsome battle, the dreaded writer's block was vanquished (with some help from a faithful friend.you know who you are) and my muse, which was being held prisoner, was returned to me! Yippie!
Anyways, I give you all permission to dislike, even hate, me for a day (but no more than that!). Enjoy!
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"You're wanted, Mr. Sparrow? For what pray-tell?" Rhiannon pursed her lips and continued to study the portrait of the nefarious man standing no more than five feet in front of her. Trying to calm her already jittery nerves, the girl focused on the accuracy of the sketch depicting Jack's roguish face. "You know, this portrait of you is quite well done. The resemblance is quite amazing really. I wonder how they could have captured such a detailed sketch. I supposed you have given them plenty of times to practice to get it right..," Rhiannon's voice trailed off as she looked up, expecting to see Jack still standing across the room, but gasped as she found him standing only a foot away. She gulped audibly and felt her heart rate quicken a few beats more per minute.
Giving her a crooked smile, Jack tilted his head back and looked down at her along the bridge of his nice, "Aye, ye could say that, love. I have many a' collection of wanted posters all for me onsies. Seems I'm quite.desirable." He grinned widely as he watched her blink quickly and avert her eyes from his.
"Um..well, yes I suppose..," Rhiannon suddenly felt very peculiar. //Why am I acting like such as twit? I shouldn't let him rattle me so//. She took a step back, uncomfortable with how close they had been standing and looked around for a means of escape. There, the door, it was only a few feet behind her. If she slowly made her way backwards maybe he wouldn't guess her intention and she would be able to flee.
"What's got ye in such a flutter, love?" Asked Jack as he advanced on her while she retreated, not letting his eyes stray from her flushed face nor his grin to fade from his lips.
"N-nothing, nothing at all. It's just a tad warm in here, is all," She fanned her self for effect and continued her way towards the door, clutching the rolled up poster a tad tighter in her hand. When she heard the parchment crinkle as it was squeezed she looked down at her hand in surprise. Rhiannon hadn't realized she was holding it so tightly.
In her moment of distraction Jack made his move and pushed her back up against the door. She inhaled sharply and her eyes looked up into his face wildly. Jack caught her about her slender waist as she stumbled a bit after tripping on the hem of her dress in her nervous state. She shivered inwardly, but not from something cold, oh no, the spots where his hands made contact with her body felt as if they were on fire. Rhiannon was screaming to herself, inside of her head: What in bloody hells name!? I have to get out of here.now!
Jack stepped even nearer, near enough for a few of his dreadlocks and various beaded and bedizened braids to sway across the neckline of her dress, tickling her and sending shivers coursing throughout her body. Rhiannon's mouth gaped like a fish out of water and small circles of color blossomed on the apples of her cheeks. Jack's shady face cracked into a golden-toothed grin and his hands trailed down her ribcage until they settled on her hips. Rhiannon gulped.
"Erm..J-Jack, I mean Mr. Sparrow," she said his name very determinably, ".I-I think I could use a bit of fresh air," she turned slightly to her left so that she could grab the door knob but was pushed back against the door by Jack's hand on her shoulder.
"Am I makin' ye nervous, love? Ye seem a lil' flustered," Jack Sparrows dark, mahogany eyes glinted as he looked deeply into Rhiannon's overly bright and shinning sapphire eyes.
"Yes-I mean NO! It's just a little st-stuffy in here and I think I would just like to step outside for a moment. Tha-that's all.," Rhiannon smiled weakly, the corners of her mouth twitching-she needed to get out of there, away from his intoxicating presence.
"Well, if that's all ye want, far be it fer me t' stop ye. Lemme help ye out the door-don' want yer shirts gettin' in the way." Jack took his hands away from her waist and stooped slightly to snatch two handfuls of scarlet silk and, all of the sudden, threw the heavy fabric up and over Rhiannon's head exposing her bloomers and trembling, ivory legs. To top it off, he spun her around, opened the door and pushed her over the threshold and out into the raucous pub. Rhiannon floundered her way out into the middle of the pub before falling flat on her stomach, her skirts still wrapped about her upper body.
Rhiannon listened in agony as she failed about in her cocoon of silk and hair as the entire pub became aware of her current state of humiliation. The laughter was deafening and if her face had been free of the skirts, she was sure it would be just as crimson as the silk they were made of. She cringed as she heard whistles and cat-calls shouted about. The time it took her to untangle herself seemed to last for an eternity-- plus one--and she was actually contemplating just crawling in defeat under some table and letting them all carry on laughing, but then the prideful and noble side of her personality flared up and she tore the rest of the skirts away and took her time to smooth them out before getting to her feet (wobbling only slightly on her quaking limbs that felt entirely to spindly to her). She shook back the flaming mane of her hair before striding defiantly over towards the pirate captain who leaned lackadaisically against the door frame to the pirate parlor she had been so rudely thrust out of only minutes ago.
Jack was the picture of indifference with only a touch of mild amusement. Inside however, hidden from all, he was laughing his arse off. He stood casually with one leg crossed over the other, his arms thrown across his chest and his hat tilted low over his eyes so that only a glimmer could be seen to tell that they were there. There was a crooked grin on his face and his eyes followed her as she approached him.
"You, sir, are DESPICABLE! How DARE you!"
"Oh ye don't really mean that now do ye?" Jack asked teasingly, tipping his hat up so that his eyes were revealed and presenting her with a look of hurt that was complete pretense.
"Yes I do!" Rhiannon raised her hand to jab a finger into his chest and found that crumpled into the palm of her hand, was the almost completely forgotten wanted poster. She unfolded her hand and held up the crumpled parchment-ball as she gazed at it puzzlement, trying to remember why it was there.
"Ah, what's this?" Jack snatched the paper ball off of her outstretched palm and pocketed it, "Why thank'ee, love. So kind of ye t' keep this safe fer me. Now why don' ye go play with some of those pub- goers over there. They look like they could use a bit of fun." He grinned like a chesire cat, grabbing her hand and spinning her in some crazy dance move-twirling her under his arm and releasing her (still spinning) so that she stumbled her way, quite ungracefully, across the room. Rhiannon shrieked shrilly as she collided backwards into someone and again as whoever it was she had bumped into pushed her towards someone else. She was passed around by various people as they all laughed wildly. Rhiannon felt like a human pin-ball as she was jerked around, pinched, and prodded. She even heard the unmistakable sound of tearing cloth and was quite positive it was some bit of her elegant dress being torn. Eventually, after being drenched in ale which thus caused her face to be licked from chin to temple, having her poor little feet stepped on so many times she was sure they had been reduced to a pulp, and acquiring so many new bumps and bruises she was sure she must be completely black and blue, Rhiannon found herself slammed up against the hardest body yet.
Cowering under her feeble arms, Rhiannon looked up as if expecting a blow and found her eyes meeting with the hairiest, hungriest looking man she had yet seen in the entire pub. Not only was he like a giant grizzly bear in appearance, he was like a giant grizzly bear in stature as well, towering a good foot and a half over petite little Rhiannon. He had what looked to be a dark, dirty blonde-ish colored hair, but it was hard to tell if that was the real color or if it was just caked in so much filth. He had very wide, powerful shoulders and burly, muscled arms. His steely gray eyes shone like that of some predatory animal and grinned in a leering sneer in which one corner of his upper lips curled up exposing a yellowed canine.
Rhiannon let a small squeak escape and made to dash away from him but was caught about the waist by a tree-trunk-like arm and was slung up over his shoulder.
"Put me down! Help! Help!" she shrieked, screamed, clawed and kicked as he carried her nearer and nearer to the stairs. She knew she couldn't let him carry her upstairs to be trapped in some room with him and at his mercy. She did all that she could, all too soon, she found the first step below her and gulped.
"Oy! Hold up thar, mate!" Rhiannon recognized that voice, it was Jack! Maybe he could save her. Rescue her from the frying pan, just so that she could jump into the fire.
"Wha'd ye want? Who are ye?" asked the burly man, Rhiannon still slung up over his shoulder. He was looking down at the shorter Jack Sparrow edgily, impatient to be on his way with his wriggling burden up the stairs and into his chambers. His eyes narrowed as he studies Jack and then widened in recognition. "Cap'n Jack.Jack Sparrow?"
"Aye, one an' the same," replied Jack, his dark eyes peering out from under the brim of his worn, leather hat. He nodded towards Rhiannon, "Where might ye be takin' that, mate?"
"Oh, upstairs," simply stated the burly man, his eyes gleaming and sneering now so that both corners of his upper lipped curled back.
Jack nodded, "Well, mate, I'm afraid ye can't be doin' that."
The Neanderthal-like brow of the man knitted in confusion, "Why not?" Quick as lightning, Jack has his pistol out and cocked the hammer, aiming right between the burly man's eyes.
"That's why not," Jack's eyes, as he looked down the barrel of the pistol and into the burly man's crossed-eyed orbs, held an expression that was difficult to distinguish whether it was amusement, aggression or a peculiar mixing of both.
"Aye.right, right you are Cap'n," the burly man gently set Rhiannon down on her feet and backed away with his hands up, far away from the hilt of the cutlass at his waist nor the pistol tucked into his belt. He ducked his head in a clumsy sort of obeisance and then scuttled off back to the bar, retreating to the safety of ale. No one messed with Captain Jack Sparrow these days. Not after what he'd done a year before and regained command of the Black Pearl. He was not considered the most fearsome pirate in the Caribbean and none withstand him or the power of his crew and ship.
Keeping his pistol out and ready, Jack motioned for Rhiannon to go before him back to the parlor, a guiding hand on the small of her back. He could feel her body quaking and smirked. That'll teach her, he thought to himself.
Rhiannon walked as quickly as she could back towards the parlor, thinking only of the sanctuary it was compared to the rest of the pub and almost fell over the threshold. She heard Jack close the door behind them and turned, collapsing right into Jack's arms. She focused on catching her breath, letting her breathing slow back to a normal pace; she didn't even realize where she was. She could only feel how warm he was, how the collar of his coat was stiff with years of salt and sea spray, how he smelled of the sea and a curious spiciness, and how comfortable she was after being on edge for so long, after all that had transpired and changed her life in the last few days. She let her eyes close, realizing how tired and worn out she was. All too soon she heard, or more felt, his voice, deep and rough voice as it reverberated in his chest.
"Told ye yew would warm up to me."
Rhiannon's eyes flew open and she immediately torn herself from his embrace and fury clouded her eyes. Not as much fury at him (although she was quite furious with him for his little stunt out in the pub), but more so with herself, for letting herself be so easily tamed and off guard. How could she have let him hold her so, coddle her like a child after all that he had done to her? Her anger boiling over, she decided to take her frustration out on him and raiser her hand to slap him for all she was worth.
Jack, for all his apparent drunkenness of habit, had the reflexes of a cat and intercepted her wrist and proceeded to intertwine his fingers with hers. Each stares into the other's eyes and then, out of nowhere, a rum bottle appears in Jack's other hand and he pushes the bottle again her chest. "Drink up, love. It'll calm yer nerves. And sit down, yer makin' me nervous."
Pursed lipped, Rhiannon carries the bottle of rum over to the table and sets it down in front of her. Still standing, she contemplates the dark green bottle and, after shrugging her slender shoulders, pops out the cork and takes a mighty swig that fills her entire mouth. Her eyes watered as the liquid burned and she sloshed it around in her mouth before swallowing in one giant gulp. She swooned a bit, and placed her hand on the edge of the table to keep herself steady. Then she sat down and took another sip, but this time, no such a large and enthusiastic partake of the drink. Coughing a bit, she wiped the back of her small hand across her mouth and then looked up timidly in Jack's direction.
Jack Sparrow sat and smiled at her over his own bottle (that was quite a bit larger), then set it down and fluttered his fingers before resting his head on his hands and watching her down the rim of his nose. He watched, waiting as her brow knit and she then cleared her throat.
"So what was that wanted poster for, Jack?" her reedy voice all the huskier after the rum. Jack pursed his lips slightly and considered her small face, hectic roses blooming on her cheeks because of the drink.
"Ye really want t' know?" Rhiannon nodded. "Well then, ye know that plunderin; and entire ship and killin' so many, includin' the Cap'n is not going to go unnoticed, eh? Especially when the Cap'n was such an influential person and certain passengers on the ship were of more interest to the Commodore Norrington than most others," Jack looked straight into Rhiannon's eyes after he said this.
"H-how do you know that the Commodore was interested with anyone on my father's ship," she asked tentatively, not giving away any names in case he did, indeed, not know about her engagement to the Commodore.
"I have me ways. I like t' keep tags on the Commodore," she still did not know if he knew about her being the Commodore's fiancée, and it was making her very nervous. Rhiannon took another hasty sip of rum, coughing again as it "went down the wrong pipe". Jack was laughing inside, of course he knew about her impending marriage with Commodore Norrington, he knew about most everything the Commodore was doing. What sort of pirate- king (as some were wont to call him) would he be if he didn't make sure he knew all that his enemies, or rather adversaries, were up to? He was enjoying his game, playing with her, trying to make her squirm.
"Oh," she sad loudly, as if anxious about something and then grimaced at the sound of it and started again, more softly this time, "Oh, is that so?" She looked to the ceiling as if for help and squeezed a handful of skirt-fabric in her lap apprehensively.
"Aye, I do," Jack watched with satisfaction as she took a few more sips of rum. He had also noticed with his quick insightfulness that, the more she drank, the more her accent began to change, ever so slightly. He couldn't quite put a finger on what it was and so asked her, "Tell me, Rhia- love, where are ye from?"
Thinking this was a peculiar question, but detecting no reason why a true answer would hurt in any way replied, "My father is-was Welsh, my mum is British. I lived in Wales with my family at the estate that had been in my father's family for generations until I was five. Then we moved to London so that my father could further his merchant business."
"Ah, that explains the accent then," Rhiannon looked up quickly, surprised, but couldn't think of anything to say. She thought that her old welsh accent had all but deserted her. "So," Jacks fingers made swirls in the bit of liquid on the table beside his long since forgotten plate of food, "Why was it ye were on yer father's merchant ship. Most people don't usually come all the way down here fer a vacation."
Oh goodness, how was she going to get out of this one? She knew there was no way she was going to tell him she was on her father's ship on her way to her future husband, who from what it sounded like, wasn't the greatest of buddies with this pirate-captain. She didn't know what he would do when he found out, use her for ransom or some pawn in his pirate- plotting, but she didn't particularly want to find out. She did some quick thinking and thought she might be able to weasel her way out of this one, "Why should you get to ask all the questions Mr. Sparrow. I think it only fair that I get to ask you some questions as well." Jack's eyes narrowed but he waved her one with a fluttering hand before taking another swig of rum.
"Why didn't you kill me like you did the rest of the crew and my father? What value have I to you?" Rhiannon was leaning over the table now, her hand squeezing the neck of her rum bottle.
"Well, I thought t' would be quite obvious, love," here he looked her up and down and she squirmed in her chair, "Plus there was the little matter of you being..leverage."
"Leverage?" Rhiannon was beginning to get worried and took some more sips of rum, noting dully that her bottle was starting to feel very light, "What do you mean, 'leverage'?"
"Leverage in the sense that ye could be very useful t' me in the future, especially when dealing with the Commodore," he saw her jerk slightly in her chair.
"And, why.why would I be useful," she asked the question more out of a way of keeping herself from doing anything irrational and waited for the answer that she already knew he would give her.
"Why, because ye are his betroth'd, a'course. I'm absolutely positive the Commodore Norrington would never want anything to happen to 'is fiancé. He might do anything to get save ye from the evil, dastardly clutches of a villainous pirate such as m'self."
"So you did know!? You knew all along and you didn't bother to tell me?!" Rhiannon was furious. She stood up quickly to make her way around the table to give him a 'piece of her mind' and found the room spinning. She must not have realized how much she had drank and was now feeling the consequences. Detachedly, she felt a hand slip around her waist and another around her thighs and was dimly aware of being lifted off the ground. All of the sudden, as soon as she had stood up, she felt like she were floating and she was *so* dizzy. She moaned as her head began to throb. Blast that rum, she thought to herself.
Jack chuckled to himself as he left a silver coin on the table and walked out the parlor door, Rhiannon's small frame tucked neatly in his arms, her head buried in the crook of his neck as she moaned and whimpered over her pounding head. Maybe he had let her drink a tad to much, but he didn't think her tolerance would be so low, he must have drank three times as much as she had and he only felt a slight buzz. Oh well, she would be easier to handle this way, and with that thought he grinned mischievously and made his way across the still-crowded pub, weaving through tables and chairs and unconscious bodies strewn about the floor. He nodded toward the bar to the bartended and Jessim and then exited through the door out onto the stoop.
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A/N: Well, I hope that was enjoyable. If so, you know what to do.just click on the review button and...Voila!
Oil Pastel: meh.thought it would be true to Jack's buccaneer-nature. Oh.Rhiannon, its pronounced "rhee" as in 'tree' without the 't', then "ann" like the name Anne, and lastly "on" like "set it *on* the table." The last two syllables, "ann" and "on" run together though.and the emphasis is on the middle syllable. Hope that cleared things up, and ta for the review!
ArenynCai: Ta for being my beta! You ARE my muse, Pooter-dear.
A/N: I live!! I'm sure you had all given up hope on me ever getting around to writing that next chapter.but after a fearsome battle, the dreaded writer's block was vanquished (with some help from a faithful friend.you know who you are) and my muse, which was being held prisoner, was returned to me! Yippie!
Anyways, I give you all permission to dislike, even hate, me for a day (but no more than that!). Enjoy!
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"You're wanted, Mr. Sparrow? For what pray-tell?" Rhiannon pursed her lips and continued to study the portrait of the nefarious man standing no more than five feet in front of her. Trying to calm her already jittery nerves, the girl focused on the accuracy of the sketch depicting Jack's roguish face. "You know, this portrait of you is quite well done. The resemblance is quite amazing really. I wonder how they could have captured such a detailed sketch. I supposed you have given them plenty of times to practice to get it right..," Rhiannon's voice trailed off as she looked up, expecting to see Jack still standing across the room, but gasped as she found him standing only a foot away. She gulped audibly and felt her heart rate quicken a few beats more per minute.
Giving her a crooked smile, Jack tilted his head back and looked down at her along the bridge of his nice, "Aye, ye could say that, love. I have many a' collection of wanted posters all for me onsies. Seems I'm quite.desirable." He grinned widely as he watched her blink quickly and avert her eyes from his.
"Um..well, yes I suppose..," Rhiannon suddenly felt very peculiar. //Why am I acting like such as twit? I shouldn't let him rattle me so//. She took a step back, uncomfortable with how close they had been standing and looked around for a means of escape. There, the door, it was only a few feet behind her. If she slowly made her way backwards maybe he wouldn't guess her intention and she would be able to flee.
"What's got ye in such a flutter, love?" Asked Jack as he advanced on her while she retreated, not letting his eyes stray from her flushed face nor his grin to fade from his lips.
"N-nothing, nothing at all. It's just a tad warm in here, is all," She fanned her self for effect and continued her way towards the door, clutching the rolled up poster a tad tighter in her hand. When she heard the parchment crinkle as it was squeezed she looked down at her hand in surprise. Rhiannon hadn't realized she was holding it so tightly.
In her moment of distraction Jack made his move and pushed her back up against the door. She inhaled sharply and her eyes looked up into his face wildly. Jack caught her about her slender waist as she stumbled a bit after tripping on the hem of her dress in her nervous state. She shivered inwardly, but not from something cold, oh no, the spots where his hands made contact with her body felt as if they were on fire. Rhiannon was screaming to herself, inside of her head: What in bloody hells name!? I have to get out of here.now!
Jack stepped even nearer, near enough for a few of his dreadlocks and various beaded and bedizened braids to sway across the neckline of her dress, tickling her and sending shivers coursing throughout her body. Rhiannon's mouth gaped like a fish out of water and small circles of color blossomed on the apples of her cheeks. Jack's shady face cracked into a golden-toothed grin and his hands trailed down her ribcage until they settled on her hips. Rhiannon gulped.
"Erm..J-Jack, I mean Mr. Sparrow," she said his name very determinably, ".I-I think I could use a bit of fresh air," she turned slightly to her left so that she could grab the door knob but was pushed back against the door by Jack's hand on her shoulder.
"Am I makin' ye nervous, love? Ye seem a lil' flustered," Jack Sparrows dark, mahogany eyes glinted as he looked deeply into Rhiannon's overly bright and shinning sapphire eyes.
"Yes-I mean NO! It's just a little st-stuffy in here and I think I would just like to step outside for a moment. Tha-that's all.," Rhiannon smiled weakly, the corners of her mouth twitching-she needed to get out of there, away from his intoxicating presence.
"Well, if that's all ye want, far be it fer me t' stop ye. Lemme help ye out the door-don' want yer shirts gettin' in the way." Jack took his hands away from her waist and stooped slightly to snatch two handfuls of scarlet silk and, all of the sudden, threw the heavy fabric up and over Rhiannon's head exposing her bloomers and trembling, ivory legs. To top it off, he spun her around, opened the door and pushed her over the threshold and out into the raucous pub. Rhiannon floundered her way out into the middle of the pub before falling flat on her stomach, her skirts still wrapped about her upper body.
Rhiannon listened in agony as she failed about in her cocoon of silk and hair as the entire pub became aware of her current state of humiliation. The laughter was deafening and if her face had been free of the skirts, she was sure it would be just as crimson as the silk they were made of. She cringed as she heard whistles and cat-calls shouted about. The time it took her to untangle herself seemed to last for an eternity-- plus one--and she was actually contemplating just crawling in defeat under some table and letting them all carry on laughing, but then the prideful and noble side of her personality flared up and she tore the rest of the skirts away and took her time to smooth them out before getting to her feet (wobbling only slightly on her quaking limbs that felt entirely to spindly to her). She shook back the flaming mane of her hair before striding defiantly over towards the pirate captain who leaned lackadaisically against the door frame to the pirate parlor she had been so rudely thrust out of only minutes ago.
Jack was the picture of indifference with only a touch of mild amusement. Inside however, hidden from all, he was laughing his arse off. He stood casually with one leg crossed over the other, his arms thrown across his chest and his hat tilted low over his eyes so that only a glimmer could be seen to tell that they were there. There was a crooked grin on his face and his eyes followed her as she approached him.
"You, sir, are DESPICABLE! How DARE you!"
"Oh ye don't really mean that now do ye?" Jack asked teasingly, tipping his hat up so that his eyes were revealed and presenting her with a look of hurt that was complete pretense.
"Yes I do!" Rhiannon raised her hand to jab a finger into his chest and found that crumpled into the palm of her hand, was the almost completely forgotten wanted poster. She unfolded her hand and held up the crumpled parchment-ball as she gazed at it puzzlement, trying to remember why it was there.
"Ah, what's this?" Jack snatched the paper ball off of her outstretched palm and pocketed it, "Why thank'ee, love. So kind of ye t' keep this safe fer me. Now why don' ye go play with some of those pub- goers over there. They look like they could use a bit of fun." He grinned like a chesire cat, grabbing her hand and spinning her in some crazy dance move-twirling her under his arm and releasing her (still spinning) so that she stumbled her way, quite ungracefully, across the room. Rhiannon shrieked shrilly as she collided backwards into someone and again as whoever it was she had bumped into pushed her towards someone else. She was passed around by various people as they all laughed wildly. Rhiannon felt like a human pin-ball as she was jerked around, pinched, and prodded. She even heard the unmistakable sound of tearing cloth and was quite positive it was some bit of her elegant dress being torn. Eventually, after being drenched in ale which thus caused her face to be licked from chin to temple, having her poor little feet stepped on so many times she was sure they had been reduced to a pulp, and acquiring so many new bumps and bruises she was sure she must be completely black and blue, Rhiannon found herself slammed up against the hardest body yet.
Cowering under her feeble arms, Rhiannon looked up as if expecting a blow and found her eyes meeting with the hairiest, hungriest looking man she had yet seen in the entire pub. Not only was he like a giant grizzly bear in appearance, he was like a giant grizzly bear in stature as well, towering a good foot and a half over petite little Rhiannon. He had what looked to be a dark, dirty blonde-ish colored hair, but it was hard to tell if that was the real color or if it was just caked in so much filth. He had very wide, powerful shoulders and burly, muscled arms. His steely gray eyes shone like that of some predatory animal and grinned in a leering sneer in which one corner of his upper lips curled up exposing a yellowed canine.
Rhiannon let a small squeak escape and made to dash away from him but was caught about the waist by a tree-trunk-like arm and was slung up over his shoulder.
"Put me down! Help! Help!" she shrieked, screamed, clawed and kicked as he carried her nearer and nearer to the stairs. She knew she couldn't let him carry her upstairs to be trapped in some room with him and at his mercy. She did all that she could, all too soon, she found the first step below her and gulped.
"Oy! Hold up thar, mate!" Rhiannon recognized that voice, it was Jack! Maybe he could save her. Rescue her from the frying pan, just so that she could jump into the fire.
"Wha'd ye want? Who are ye?" asked the burly man, Rhiannon still slung up over his shoulder. He was looking down at the shorter Jack Sparrow edgily, impatient to be on his way with his wriggling burden up the stairs and into his chambers. His eyes narrowed as he studies Jack and then widened in recognition. "Cap'n Jack.Jack Sparrow?"
"Aye, one an' the same," replied Jack, his dark eyes peering out from under the brim of his worn, leather hat. He nodded towards Rhiannon, "Where might ye be takin' that, mate?"
"Oh, upstairs," simply stated the burly man, his eyes gleaming and sneering now so that both corners of his upper lipped curled back.
Jack nodded, "Well, mate, I'm afraid ye can't be doin' that."
The Neanderthal-like brow of the man knitted in confusion, "Why not?" Quick as lightning, Jack has his pistol out and cocked the hammer, aiming right between the burly man's eyes.
"That's why not," Jack's eyes, as he looked down the barrel of the pistol and into the burly man's crossed-eyed orbs, held an expression that was difficult to distinguish whether it was amusement, aggression or a peculiar mixing of both.
"Aye.right, right you are Cap'n," the burly man gently set Rhiannon down on her feet and backed away with his hands up, far away from the hilt of the cutlass at his waist nor the pistol tucked into his belt. He ducked his head in a clumsy sort of obeisance and then scuttled off back to the bar, retreating to the safety of ale. No one messed with Captain Jack Sparrow these days. Not after what he'd done a year before and regained command of the Black Pearl. He was not considered the most fearsome pirate in the Caribbean and none withstand him or the power of his crew and ship.
Keeping his pistol out and ready, Jack motioned for Rhiannon to go before him back to the parlor, a guiding hand on the small of her back. He could feel her body quaking and smirked. That'll teach her, he thought to himself.
Rhiannon walked as quickly as she could back towards the parlor, thinking only of the sanctuary it was compared to the rest of the pub and almost fell over the threshold. She heard Jack close the door behind them and turned, collapsing right into Jack's arms. She focused on catching her breath, letting her breathing slow back to a normal pace; she didn't even realize where she was. She could only feel how warm he was, how the collar of his coat was stiff with years of salt and sea spray, how he smelled of the sea and a curious spiciness, and how comfortable she was after being on edge for so long, after all that had transpired and changed her life in the last few days. She let her eyes close, realizing how tired and worn out she was. All too soon she heard, or more felt, his voice, deep and rough voice as it reverberated in his chest.
"Told ye yew would warm up to me."
Rhiannon's eyes flew open and she immediately torn herself from his embrace and fury clouded her eyes. Not as much fury at him (although she was quite furious with him for his little stunt out in the pub), but more so with herself, for letting herself be so easily tamed and off guard. How could she have let him hold her so, coddle her like a child after all that he had done to her? Her anger boiling over, she decided to take her frustration out on him and raiser her hand to slap him for all she was worth.
Jack, for all his apparent drunkenness of habit, had the reflexes of a cat and intercepted her wrist and proceeded to intertwine his fingers with hers. Each stares into the other's eyes and then, out of nowhere, a rum bottle appears in Jack's other hand and he pushes the bottle again her chest. "Drink up, love. It'll calm yer nerves. And sit down, yer makin' me nervous."
Pursed lipped, Rhiannon carries the bottle of rum over to the table and sets it down in front of her. Still standing, she contemplates the dark green bottle and, after shrugging her slender shoulders, pops out the cork and takes a mighty swig that fills her entire mouth. Her eyes watered as the liquid burned and she sloshed it around in her mouth before swallowing in one giant gulp. She swooned a bit, and placed her hand on the edge of the table to keep herself steady. Then she sat down and took another sip, but this time, no such a large and enthusiastic partake of the drink. Coughing a bit, she wiped the back of her small hand across her mouth and then looked up timidly in Jack's direction.
Jack Sparrow sat and smiled at her over his own bottle (that was quite a bit larger), then set it down and fluttered his fingers before resting his head on his hands and watching her down the rim of his nose. He watched, waiting as her brow knit and she then cleared her throat.
"So what was that wanted poster for, Jack?" her reedy voice all the huskier after the rum. Jack pursed his lips slightly and considered her small face, hectic roses blooming on her cheeks because of the drink.
"Ye really want t' know?" Rhiannon nodded. "Well then, ye know that plunderin; and entire ship and killin' so many, includin' the Cap'n is not going to go unnoticed, eh? Especially when the Cap'n was such an influential person and certain passengers on the ship were of more interest to the Commodore Norrington than most others," Jack looked straight into Rhiannon's eyes after he said this.
"H-how do you know that the Commodore was interested with anyone on my father's ship," she asked tentatively, not giving away any names in case he did, indeed, not know about her engagement to the Commodore.
"I have me ways. I like t' keep tags on the Commodore," she still did not know if he knew about her being the Commodore's fiancée, and it was making her very nervous. Rhiannon took another hasty sip of rum, coughing again as it "went down the wrong pipe". Jack was laughing inside, of course he knew about her impending marriage with Commodore Norrington, he knew about most everything the Commodore was doing. What sort of pirate- king (as some were wont to call him) would he be if he didn't make sure he knew all that his enemies, or rather adversaries, were up to? He was enjoying his game, playing with her, trying to make her squirm.
"Oh," she sad loudly, as if anxious about something and then grimaced at the sound of it and started again, more softly this time, "Oh, is that so?" She looked to the ceiling as if for help and squeezed a handful of skirt-fabric in her lap apprehensively.
"Aye, I do," Jack watched with satisfaction as she took a few more sips of rum. He had also noticed with his quick insightfulness that, the more she drank, the more her accent began to change, ever so slightly. He couldn't quite put a finger on what it was and so asked her, "Tell me, Rhia- love, where are ye from?"
Thinking this was a peculiar question, but detecting no reason why a true answer would hurt in any way replied, "My father is-was Welsh, my mum is British. I lived in Wales with my family at the estate that had been in my father's family for generations until I was five. Then we moved to London so that my father could further his merchant business."
"Ah, that explains the accent then," Rhiannon looked up quickly, surprised, but couldn't think of anything to say. She thought that her old welsh accent had all but deserted her. "So," Jacks fingers made swirls in the bit of liquid on the table beside his long since forgotten plate of food, "Why was it ye were on yer father's merchant ship. Most people don't usually come all the way down here fer a vacation."
Oh goodness, how was she going to get out of this one? She knew there was no way she was going to tell him she was on her father's ship on her way to her future husband, who from what it sounded like, wasn't the greatest of buddies with this pirate-captain. She didn't know what he would do when he found out, use her for ransom or some pawn in his pirate- plotting, but she didn't particularly want to find out. She did some quick thinking and thought she might be able to weasel her way out of this one, "Why should you get to ask all the questions Mr. Sparrow. I think it only fair that I get to ask you some questions as well." Jack's eyes narrowed but he waved her one with a fluttering hand before taking another swig of rum.
"Why didn't you kill me like you did the rest of the crew and my father? What value have I to you?" Rhiannon was leaning over the table now, her hand squeezing the neck of her rum bottle.
"Well, I thought t' would be quite obvious, love," here he looked her up and down and she squirmed in her chair, "Plus there was the little matter of you being..leverage."
"Leverage?" Rhiannon was beginning to get worried and took some more sips of rum, noting dully that her bottle was starting to feel very light, "What do you mean, 'leverage'?"
"Leverage in the sense that ye could be very useful t' me in the future, especially when dealing with the Commodore," he saw her jerk slightly in her chair.
"And, why.why would I be useful," she asked the question more out of a way of keeping herself from doing anything irrational and waited for the answer that she already knew he would give her.
"Why, because ye are his betroth'd, a'course. I'm absolutely positive the Commodore Norrington would never want anything to happen to 'is fiancé. He might do anything to get save ye from the evil, dastardly clutches of a villainous pirate such as m'self."
"So you did know!? You knew all along and you didn't bother to tell me?!" Rhiannon was furious. She stood up quickly to make her way around the table to give him a 'piece of her mind' and found the room spinning. She must not have realized how much she had drank and was now feeling the consequences. Detachedly, she felt a hand slip around her waist and another around her thighs and was dimly aware of being lifted off the ground. All of the sudden, as soon as she had stood up, she felt like she were floating and she was *so* dizzy. She moaned as her head began to throb. Blast that rum, she thought to herself.
Jack chuckled to himself as he left a silver coin on the table and walked out the parlor door, Rhiannon's small frame tucked neatly in his arms, her head buried in the crook of his neck as she moaned and whimpered over her pounding head. Maybe he had let her drink a tad to much, but he didn't think her tolerance would be so low, he must have drank three times as much as she had and he only felt a slight buzz. Oh well, she would be easier to handle this way, and with that thought he grinned mischievously and made his way across the still-crowded pub, weaving through tables and chairs and unconscious bodies strewn about the floor. He nodded toward the bar to the bartended and Jessim and then exited through the door out onto the stoop.
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A/N: Well, I hope that was enjoyable. If so, you know what to do.just click on the review button and...Voila!
Oil Pastel: meh.thought it would be true to Jack's buccaneer-nature. Oh.Rhiannon, its pronounced "rhee" as in 'tree' without the 't', then "ann" like the name Anne, and lastly "on" like "set it *on* the table." The last two syllables, "ann" and "on" run together though.and the emphasis is on the middle syllable. Hope that cleared things up, and ta for the review!
ArenynCai: Ta for being my beta! You ARE my muse, Pooter-dear.