Again, not mine. Some day, I'll own it. (Yeah, on DVD. 1st December in the
UK! WHOOOOO! )
My lovely lovely reviewers:
Matt: you wanted chapter 4, you got it! And trinket is a great word, innit?
Priate princess: I'm glad you like. Heres a nice long chappie for you! Chapter five should be out by the end of the week, or sooner (
Snapes_Faery: Arrr, I be glad you like young Charlotte. She be a bit of pain at the moment, but she be gettin' better. And this chappie, those little beasts are mentioned. I read that the DVD comes out on the 1st of December, so we'll all have to have a PoTC night and watch it about ten million times, ARRR!
Kitten: I'm glad you like, and I don't really care if its Mary-Sue-ish either, as low and behold, I like them. But I have many a plan to make it different! (
Snape's faith: This one is longer for you, girly!
Emeraldmedallion: glad you lovin', and continuing all the way (well, til I'm finished).
Finally, ere you go mateys!
~*~*~
Four: Mere maiden
Charlotte blinked, and stirred, waking to the unfamiliar stench of rum. Startling, she remembered she was sleeping in Captain Jack Sparrow's cabin, aboard the infamous Black Pearl. Slowly rising to a sitting position, clutching the soft blankets to her chest, she fearfully glanced around the cabin, relaxing as she saw everything was the same as it had been when she'd fallen asleep last night- and Jack Sparrow hadn't managed to join her in the night.
"Does the man have a sense of morals?" She quietly asked herself, finding her journal, and hurrying over to bury it amongst her belongings.
She picked out a navy blue and white patterned dress, and found a clean white shift, exchanging her nightdress for it, and pulled on the dress, the material thick and heavy. She'd grown accustomed to dressing herself, as back home in England, she'd had two maids who had done everything for her- cooked, tidied, buttoned, washed, groomed, the lot. The past few weeks aboard the Princess, being the only female aboard, had been hard, but she'd adjusted.
She had, discovered, however, it was near impossible to fasten her corset by herself, and had decided to stop trying to wear them.gladly. Cousin Elizabeth had written in her last letter, many months ago, complaining of such garments, and Charlotte agreed with her- corsets had to be the most uncomfortable item of clothing, ever designed.
Glancing around, she spotted no basin, and signed. Picking up her hand mirror, she attempted to tidy her hair with a silver comb, with no luck. It looked just as messy as it did when she'd begun. She was just tying it back with a scrap of ribbon, when the door swung open to reveal Captain Jack Sparrow himself, rum bottle firmly clasped in hand.
"Mornin' love." He greeted, as she slipped her feet into her soft shoes. "Can't you knock?" Charlotte immediately retorted, as she folded her arms. "I could have been changing! And don't call me love. You may call me Miss Swann." "Love, yer in my cabin, and I'll enter any time I wish to do so. Once more, yer travellin' aboard my ship, and I'll call ye love if I damn well want to." He replied. "Savvy, love?" "No, I most certainly do not savvy," She said, spitting out the word savvy as if he'd insulted her in some way. "Well, love, I think ye should to well to shut up." Jack said, levelling his gaze to her angry glare. "Miss Swann, I have a little job for ye to do." "Work? For me?" She said, blinking in surprise. Jack almost laughed at her comical expression. "I am not a servant to you, Mr Sparrow." "Captain!" He barked at her. "Captain Sparrow. Not Mr Sparrow, not jack, or anything else but Captain!" "Then its miss Swann to you." She replied quickly. "I do not wish to be called love, Charlotte, Charlie, Lottie, or anything but Miss Swann." "Charlotte, aye?" He muttered. "I knew a Charlie once." She glared, her arms still folded. "I am not working." She stated. "Ye are on my ship, and ye'll do what I tell you to, Charlie," He informed her, walking his trademark swagger as he left the room, and she reluctantly followed. "On my ship, ye are not a high class lady, but a mere maiden." "Mere maiden?" She repeated, disgusted, and insulted. "I will never-" "Aye, a maiden. Or do you fancy takin' a swim to Port Royal?" She huffed. "What foul task must I partake in then?" She asked, not mentioning she couldn't actually swim.
They stopped walking, and Jack opened a slightly battered door, and allowed her to step in first. A sight for sore eyes greeted her; piles upon piles of dirty dishes and glasses surrounded a basin, filled with clean water. "I'll be back later, Charlie," He said, tipping his hat, and disappearing. "Do not call me Charlie!" She shouted, rather unladylike. Dismayed, she glanced at the dirty dishes. "Surely, I'm not expected to wash these?" She asked the empty room. "I've never washed dishes in my life!"
--
A few hours later, Jack whistled to himself, as he wandered back to the filthy kitchen to check on Charlie, see how she was doing with those dishes. He found her whole prima-donna lady act quite amusing, and he hadn't been able to resist making her wash dishes, to bring her down a peg or two- although he didn't really expect her to have actually completed the task, so you can imagine his surprise when he entered the kitchen, to see piles of white gleaming dishes set to one side, and the bowl of dirty water ready to be thrown overboard.
He watched, leaning against the doorway, as Charlie finished the last dish. She had yet to notice him, and he grinned. She'd taken off her blue dress, and was in her thick white shift, the elbow-length sleeves soaked with water, spots of it decorating the front of the shift. Her hair had begun tied back, and was now mostly in her face, and she irritably blew a strand from her eyes. Drying her wet hands on a rag of cloth, she noticed they'd gone wrinkled from being in water so long. She signed, and tucked her hair behind her ears.
"Nice job, love." He complimented her, his voice startling her. "I didn't expect yer to finish." His words infuriated her for unknown reasons. "I may not have washed a dish in my life, but that doesn't mean I'm not capable of it!" She replied, smoothing down her wrinkled, slightly wet shift. "Didn't suggest yer weren't. But since you're so eager to prove yourself, Gibsey could use a hand with tonight's supper, after yer grab a bite to eat." "Gibsey?" "Our- well, I'd like to say 'chef', but that'd be being too fancy." He trailed off, looking for the right word. "Meal preparer?" Charlotte offered. "Yes! Meal preparer." He said, nodding enthusiastically. "He should be down in a few, as he's just served lunch. Or what he calls lunch." "Do I even want to eat it?" She said, looking at her dress, wondering whether it was worth putting it back on. "Don't bother love." He told her, reading her mind. "And it's just soup. Pretty safe." "Okay," She agreed, as he swaggered out the kitchen, leading the way. Following behind, she quickly re-tied her hair.
Eventually reaching the crew's deck, they entered the small, crowded hall, with battered tables and stools scattered, and a large pot of steaming soup rested on one. The man Charlotte presumed to be Gibsey was handing out bowls, and she suspiciously took one, talking a seat to the only other female, as Captain Sparrow, the only other person she knew, had disappeared. "I'm Charlotte." She said, rather timidly, taking a quick sip of soup; not disgusting, but she'd had better.
The female grunted, then reluctantly replied, after a moment of brief silence. "Ana Maria." Charlotte smiled, wondering what to say next. Usually, she was good with introductions and meeting new people- god knew how many new suitors her father had arranged for her to meet, before finally deciding to send her to Port Royal. Of course, she was a lady, and was used to the high class, not pirates. She decided to just say something for conversation. "So how did you become a pirate?" She inquired, slightly curious, as she finished her soup. Ana Maria looked at her, her eyes meeting Charlotte's, as she drained her soup. "Not much else goin'" The strange woman replied, smirking, then standing, and wandering away. Charlotte shrugged, and finished her own meal. "Not one for talkin' is she." A male's voice spoke, and Charlotte turned to see a rough-looking man, with long, messy hair, that had been bleached by the sun, and a tanned, worn face, a long scar running down his left cheek. "I guess not," Charlotte replied slowly. "I'm Gibsey. Cap'n Sparrow said you was to help me." "Ah, right. I'm Charlotte." She replied, standing, and smiled at Gibsey. "Its not easy work, cookin' for this lot, mind," He warned her, gesturing to the crew, most still ravenously eating, as he led the way back to the small kitchen. "But they be grateful to whatever I make." "And what are you making for supper?" "Spuds." He replied. "And a bit o' meat. Some vegetables throw in for good measure too, I think." "Right." She answered, not daring to ask what he meant by 'spuds'. "You can peel the spuds, as I stew the veggies," He told her, entering the kitchen, and quickly filling a large wooden tub full of small, brown, dirty objects- the 'spuds', she realised, which were, actually potatoes. "I've got to peel all of these?" She asked, amazed at the number of them. "Yep, better get started now, lassie," He said, handing her a small, but wickedly sharp knife. Her eyes widened as she glanced at it. Gibsey realised she didn't know what she was doing. Picking up a potato, and taking the knife off her, he proceeded to display how to peel a potato. "Yer see, you hold it like this." He intoned, and quickly finished the potato, and placed it in the empty tub placed next to the full one. "Yer really were born with a silver spoon in yer gob, weren't yer?" "If you mean I was raised as a lady, then yes, I was." Charlotte replied, attempting to peel her own, and shrieked as the knife slipped, cutting into her palm. She began shrieking more when she saw blood. "Calm down lassie, it just be a bit o' blood!" He told her, ripping a bit of cloth of a cleanish rag, and tying it tightly around her palm, letting the material soak up the blood. "Be more careful with the knife, and you'll not be slicing yer hands up!" he told her, and turned to do his veggies. "Thanks, Gibsey," She said, calling him by his name for the first time. Ignoring the stinging sensation in her palm, she reached for another potato, sitting uncomfortably on the small wooden stool he'd provided for her.
~*~*~
Laughing to herself as the starving pirates grabbed the plates of food from her, hours later, she looked proudly to her cooked and mashed potatoes, wondering how she'd managed to peel, cook and serve, when she'd never had to do it before. Another bandage covered her other hand- the result of boiling hot water, and another knife-slipping accident- and her hair, wild about her shoulders, and her shift, dirty from the potatoes, and a little splash of blood from the knife, all insured she was fitting in with the rest of the crew. Jack wandered over, and eyed her up and down. "Look like yer been having fun, Charlie." He said, amused.
She grinned at him. "I can't say it was fun, but I certainly learned something," She replied, handing him his plate. He noticed the bandages on her hands. "Get in a little accident, love?" "Just slipped with the peeling knife once or twice," She replied breezily, and Jack shook his head. "Hope you enjoy!" She added, handing another plate to the next pirate in line. Jack glanced back at her, seeing a completely different girl to the one he'd rescued last night. Yesterday, she'd been clean, well spoken, and well, on another level to everyone else. Now, she was still well spoken, but dirty, bloodied, and slightly less up herself. Jack laughed as he slid into a seat, wondering how her dear Lizzie would react to seeing her cousin right now.
~*~*~
I'll admit I'm not as scared as I was last night, journal. I still have my fears, but I've reasoned with myself- Captain Sparrow has no reason to hurt me, and neither do his crew- or at least, he won't let them, as he promised me he'd get my uncle, and Elizabeth. Gibsey was telling me interesting stories about Captain Sparrow being marooned today- he mentioned something ridiculously stupid about escaping on sea turtles, but I don't believe him, not in the slightest- how could a fully-grown man use sea turtles as a raft? Simply preposterous.
My hands have healed now, and I bathed them in clean water- just two small scabs remain where I sliced myself, and an itchy, red patch where I burned my hand. Hopefully that will be gone by morning!
I am quite proud of myself I managed to wash all those dishes, and cook. I'm not just a 'two-dimensional bore' after all. I will prove that insufferable brother of mine wrong- just because he joined the navy when he was eighteen, got himself a 'proper' wife who cooks and looks after the children, doesn't mean I can be as successful, because father raised me to act 'properly'. I will show him! But I refuse to be as rotten and filthy- talking like these pirates in order to show him I'm more than a stupid doll!
~*~*~
The sea turtles were just for Toria, as I know she'll appreciate them.
Much longer chapter for all! Hopefully, Charlotte is appealing more now she's adjusting to pirate life- but she's still got a long way to go- and I was struck by ideas the other day, and I've planned this story to go in a much more exciting direction than I'd already planned. And if your wondering, Elizabeth will not play a large part until much later, near the end, but Will comes in soon- and he plays quite a large part ( But I'll keep you in suspense!
FluffyYellowDucks
My lovely lovely reviewers:
Matt: you wanted chapter 4, you got it! And trinket is a great word, innit?
Priate princess: I'm glad you like. Heres a nice long chappie for you! Chapter five should be out by the end of the week, or sooner (
Snapes_Faery: Arrr, I be glad you like young Charlotte. She be a bit of pain at the moment, but she be gettin' better. And this chappie, those little beasts are mentioned. I read that the DVD comes out on the 1st of December, so we'll all have to have a PoTC night and watch it about ten million times, ARRR!
Kitten: I'm glad you like, and I don't really care if its Mary-Sue-ish either, as low and behold, I like them. But I have many a plan to make it different! (
Snape's faith: This one is longer for you, girly!
Emeraldmedallion: glad you lovin', and continuing all the way (well, til I'm finished).
Finally, ere you go mateys!
~*~*~
Four: Mere maiden
Charlotte blinked, and stirred, waking to the unfamiliar stench of rum. Startling, she remembered she was sleeping in Captain Jack Sparrow's cabin, aboard the infamous Black Pearl. Slowly rising to a sitting position, clutching the soft blankets to her chest, she fearfully glanced around the cabin, relaxing as she saw everything was the same as it had been when she'd fallen asleep last night- and Jack Sparrow hadn't managed to join her in the night.
"Does the man have a sense of morals?" She quietly asked herself, finding her journal, and hurrying over to bury it amongst her belongings.
She picked out a navy blue and white patterned dress, and found a clean white shift, exchanging her nightdress for it, and pulled on the dress, the material thick and heavy. She'd grown accustomed to dressing herself, as back home in England, she'd had two maids who had done everything for her- cooked, tidied, buttoned, washed, groomed, the lot. The past few weeks aboard the Princess, being the only female aboard, had been hard, but she'd adjusted.
She had, discovered, however, it was near impossible to fasten her corset by herself, and had decided to stop trying to wear them.gladly. Cousin Elizabeth had written in her last letter, many months ago, complaining of such garments, and Charlotte agreed with her- corsets had to be the most uncomfortable item of clothing, ever designed.
Glancing around, she spotted no basin, and signed. Picking up her hand mirror, she attempted to tidy her hair with a silver comb, with no luck. It looked just as messy as it did when she'd begun. She was just tying it back with a scrap of ribbon, when the door swung open to reveal Captain Jack Sparrow himself, rum bottle firmly clasped in hand.
"Mornin' love." He greeted, as she slipped her feet into her soft shoes. "Can't you knock?" Charlotte immediately retorted, as she folded her arms. "I could have been changing! And don't call me love. You may call me Miss Swann." "Love, yer in my cabin, and I'll enter any time I wish to do so. Once more, yer travellin' aboard my ship, and I'll call ye love if I damn well want to." He replied. "Savvy, love?" "No, I most certainly do not savvy," She said, spitting out the word savvy as if he'd insulted her in some way. "Well, love, I think ye should to well to shut up." Jack said, levelling his gaze to her angry glare. "Miss Swann, I have a little job for ye to do." "Work? For me?" She said, blinking in surprise. Jack almost laughed at her comical expression. "I am not a servant to you, Mr Sparrow." "Captain!" He barked at her. "Captain Sparrow. Not Mr Sparrow, not jack, or anything else but Captain!" "Then its miss Swann to you." She replied quickly. "I do not wish to be called love, Charlotte, Charlie, Lottie, or anything but Miss Swann." "Charlotte, aye?" He muttered. "I knew a Charlie once." She glared, her arms still folded. "I am not working." She stated. "Ye are on my ship, and ye'll do what I tell you to, Charlie," He informed her, walking his trademark swagger as he left the room, and she reluctantly followed. "On my ship, ye are not a high class lady, but a mere maiden." "Mere maiden?" She repeated, disgusted, and insulted. "I will never-" "Aye, a maiden. Or do you fancy takin' a swim to Port Royal?" She huffed. "What foul task must I partake in then?" She asked, not mentioning she couldn't actually swim.
They stopped walking, and Jack opened a slightly battered door, and allowed her to step in first. A sight for sore eyes greeted her; piles upon piles of dirty dishes and glasses surrounded a basin, filled with clean water. "I'll be back later, Charlie," He said, tipping his hat, and disappearing. "Do not call me Charlie!" She shouted, rather unladylike. Dismayed, she glanced at the dirty dishes. "Surely, I'm not expected to wash these?" She asked the empty room. "I've never washed dishes in my life!"
--
A few hours later, Jack whistled to himself, as he wandered back to the filthy kitchen to check on Charlie, see how she was doing with those dishes. He found her whole prima-donna lady act quite amusing, and he hadn't been able to resist making her wash dishes, to bring her down a peg or two- although he didn't really expect her to have actually completed the task, so you can imagine his surprise when he entered the kitchen, to see piles of white gleaming dishes set to one side, and the bowl of dirty water ready to be thrown overboard.
He watched, leaning against the doorway, as Charlie finished the last dish. She had yet to notice him, and he grinned. She'd taken off her blue dress, and was in her thick white shift, the elbow-length sleeves soaked with water, spots of it decorating the front of the shift. Her hair had begun tied back, and was now mostly in her face, and she irritably blew a strand from her eyes. Drying her wet hands on a rag of cloth, she noticed they'd gone wrinkled from being in water so long. She signed, and tucked her hair behind her ears.
"Nice job, love." He complimented her, his voice startling her. "I didn't expect yer to finish." His words infuriated her for unknown reasons. "I may not have washed a dish in my life, but that doesn't mean I'm not capable of it!" She replied, smoothing down her wrinkled, slightly wet shift. "Didn't suggest yer weren't. But since you're so eager to prove yourself, Gibsey could use a hand with tonight's supper, after yer grab a bite to eat." "Gibsey?" "Our- well, I'd like to say 'chef', but that'd be being too fancy." He trailed off, looking for the right word. "Meal preparer?" Charlotte offered. "Yes! Meal preparer." He said, nodding enthusiastically. "He should be down in a few, as he's just served lunch. Or what he calls lunch." "Do I even want to eat it?" She said, looking at her dress, wondering whether it was worth putting it back on. "Don't bother love." He told her, reading her mind. "And it's just soup. Pretty safe." "Okay," She agreed, as he swaggered out the kitchen, leading the way. Following behind, she quickly re-tied her hair.
Eventually reaching the crew's deck, they entered the small, crowded hall, with battered tables and stools scattered, and a large pot of steaming soup rested on one. The man Charlotte presumed to be Gibsey was handing out bowls, and she suspiciously took one, talking a seat to the only other female, as Captain Sparrow, the only other person she knew, had disappeared. "I'm Charlotte." She said, rather timidly, taking a quick sip of soup; not disgusting, but she'd had better.
The female grunted, then reluctantly replied, after a moment of brief silence. "Ana Maria." Charlotte smiled, wondering what to say next. Usually, she was good with introductions and meeting new people- god knew how many new suitors her father had arranged for her to meet, before finally deciding to send her to Port Royal. Of course, she was a lady, and was used to the high class, not pirates. She decided to just say something for conversation. "So how did you become a pirate?" She inquired, slightly curious, as she finished her soup. Ana Maria looked at her, her eyes meeting Charlotte's, as she drained her soup. "Not much else goin'" The strange woman replied, smirking, then standing, and wandering away. Charlotte shrugged, and finished her own meal. "Not one for talkin' is she." A male's voice spoke, and Charlotte turned to see a rough-looking man, with long, messy hair, that had been bleached by the sun, and a tanned, worn face, a long scar running down his left cheek. "I guess not," Charlotte replied slowly. "I'm Gibsey. Cap'n Sparrow said you was to help me." "Ah, right. I'm Charlotte." She replied, standing, and smiled at Gibsey. "Its not easy work, cookin' for this lot, mind," He warned her, gesturing to the crew, most still ravenously eating, as he led the way back to the small kitchen. "But they be grateful to whatever I make." "And what are you making for supper?" "Spuds." He replied. "And a bit o' meat. Some vegetables throw in for good measure too, I think." "Right." She answered, not daring to ask what he meant by 'spuds'. "You can peel the spuds, as I stew the veggies," He told her, entering the kitchen, and quickly filling a large wooden tub full of small, brown, dirty objects- the 'spuds', she realised, which were, actually potatoes. "I've got to peel all of these?" She asked, amazed at the number of them. "Yep, better get started now, lassie," He said, handing her a small, but wickedly sharp knife. Her eyes widened as she glanced at it. Gibsey realised she didn't know what she was doing. Picking up a potato, and taking the knife off her, he proceeded to display how to peel a potato. "Yer see, you hold it like this." He intoned, and quickly finished the potato, and placed it in the empty tub placed next to the full one. "Yer really were born with a silver spoon in yer gob, weren't yer?" "If you mean I was raised as a lady, then yes, I was." Charlotte replied, attempting to peel her own, and shrieked as the knife slipped, cutting into her palm. She began shrieking more when she saw blood. "Calm down lassie, it just be a bit o' blood!" He told her, ripping a bit of cloth of a cleanish rag, and tying it tightly around her palm, letting the material soak up the blood. "Be more careful with the knife, and you'll not be slicing yer hands up!" he told her, and turned to do his veggies. "Thanks, Gibsey," She said, calling him by his name for the first time. Ignoring the stinging sensation in her palm, she reached for another potato, sitting uncomfortably on the small wooden stool he'd provided for her.
~*~*~
Laughing to herself as the starving pirates grabbed the plates of food from her, hours later, she looked proudly to her cooked and mashed potatoes, wondering how she'd managed to peel, cook and serve, when she'd never had to do it before. Another bandage covered her other hand- the result of boiling hot water, and another knife-slipping accident- and her hair, wild about her shoulders, and her shift, dirty from the potatoes, and a little splash of blood from the knife, all insured she was fitting in with the rest of the crew. Jack wandered over, and eyed her up and down. "Look like yer been having fun, Charlie." He said, amused.
She grinned at him. "I can't say it was fun, but I certainly learned something," She replied, handing him his plate. He noticed the bandages on her hands. "Get in a little accident, love?" "Just slipped with the peeling knife once or twice," She replied breezily, and Jack shook his head. "Hope you enjoy!" She added, handing another plate to the next pirate in line. Jack glanced back at her, seeing a completely different girl to the one he'd rescued last night. Yesterday, she'd been clean, well spoken, and well, on another level to everyone else. Now, she was still well spoken, but dirty, bloodied, and slightly less up herself. Jack laughed as he slid into a seat, wondering how her dear Lizzie would react to seeing her cousin right now.
~*~*~
I'll admit I'm not as scared as I was last night, journal. I still have my fears, but I've reasoned with myself- Captain Sparrow has no reason to hurt me, and neither do his crew- or at least, he won't let them, as he promised me he'd get my uncle, and Elizabeth. Gibsey was telling me interesting stories about Captain Sparrow being marooned today- he mentioned something ridiculously stupid about escaping on sea turtles, but I don't believe him, not in the slightest- how could a fully-grown man use sea turtles as a raft? Simply preposterous.
My hands have healed now, and I bathed them in clean water- just two small scabs remain where I sliced myself, and an itchy, red patch where I burned my hand. Hopefully that will be gone by morning!
I am quite proud of myself I managed to wash all those dishes, and cook. I'm not just a 'two-dimensional bore' after all. I will prove that insufferable brother of mine wrong- just because he joined the navy when he was eighteen, got himself a 'proper' wife who cooks and looks after the children, doesn't mean I can be as successful, because father raised me to act 'properly'. I will show him! But I refuse to be as rotten and filthy- talking like these pirates in order to show him I'm more than a stupid doll!
~*~*~
The sea turtles were just for Toria, as I know she'll appreciate them.
Much longer chapter for all! Hopefully, Charlotte is appealing more now she's adjusting to pirate life- but she's still got a long way to go- and I was struck by ideas the other day, and I've planned this story to go in a much more exciting direction than I'd already planned. And if your wondering, Elizabeth will not play a large part until much later, near the end, but Will comes in soon- and he plays quite a large part ( But I'll keep you in suspense!
FluffyYellowDucks