Sorry for goin' all cliffhangery on ya. Well, no, not sorry. I'm hoping it draws more people to
review! My story needs criticism.
*Again, thanks go out to Lauren, Austin Powers (awesome multiple choice answer!),
raininginnewyork, and anyone else, I may have missed... unlikely... but in case you're out there,
sorry.
Warning: Obscure references to rape.
Disclaimer: see chapter 1... I don't own them, I wish. Enjoy!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 4: Just Great...
Jack's eyes fluttered open slowly.
"Where the devil...?" he started, then his memory returned. He raised his hand to
tentatively touch the back of his head. He winced at the sudden jolts of pain that assaulted his
head from the slight touch. He groaned, *Check... don't touch nasty bump.*
He slowly sat up and realized he had idea not where he was, and giving the surroundings an
uneasy glance, decided they looked did not look familiar.
The sound of dished clattering brought his eyes to rest upon a thin blonde figures back.
*Ouch,* thought Jack leering slightly at the girls form, *Who can that be...*
He moved to stand and was immediately assaulted by dizziness. Without warning, he
was back on the makeshift bed/couch which creaked loudly under his weight. The sound startled
the girl. She turned quickly. As if just remembering that he was there, relaxed considerably, an
angry scowl replacing the stunned look.
She returned to her work. "You finally up, Sparrow?" she yelled to the other side of the
shack.
Jack lifted his head slightly off the bed, to look at her back. "Aye.." He slowly sat up.
"Giselle?" he asked tentatively. Not ready to make the same mistake again, he swung his feet
slowly around to rest on the dirty floor.
Her thick English accent fluttered to where he sat, "You've been 'sleep nearly twelve
'ours."
"Yea?" he asked, shocked at the amount of time that had been out, he continued groggily.
"What 'appened?"
Stopping her chore, she looked out the window over her small side table where her wash
basin sat. She sighed.
Listening intently, Jack spoke up, "It couldn't have been that bad, love," he prodded, "if I
ended up here," he smiled mischievously at her, giving her backside a once-over.
She took in a deep breath and released it, "I only wanted you to know the 'urt you caused
me. A slap wasn't enough in my mind. After I truly thought about it, I practically wanted to kill
you, minus the fact that your sufferin' would then be ended. When you walked past me 'ome, I
couldn't help but take a wallop at your head," she said, anger creeping into her voice and then
subsiding as she continued, "but then you fell. For a second I thought you were dead." Jack heard
what could almost be interpreted as regret, as she continued to wash her dishes, "So, I brought
you 'ere. I felt bad, God knows why.. You deserved to be left there."
Jack rose slowly to his feet. He crept up behind her, wrapping her in his arms. She was at first
startled, then eased into his arms.
"Thank ya, love. I probably would've died, 'ad you not knocked me upside me 'ead and
taken me in." He leaned in to smell the sweet wild flower smell of her hair, "You know you're
one of my favorites." She tensed in his grasp, and he immediately regretted saying anything. His
face puckered into a grimace. She whirled around on him and slapped him square on the cheek,
sending not only his head, but his whole body, flailing to his right.
He flexed his jaw a few times as he tried desperately to choke out a response.
"Out! OUT NOW!" she screeched. She picked up a large metal pan, and preceded to
chase his swaggering form out of her tiny shack.
"Ease up there, love!" He tripped on the door frame as he ambled out the door, sending
his lean frame sprawling into the street. Many of the passing men snickered.
He scrambled to his feet, trying to save some face. Looking around him, he remembered
where he was and the events from the previous night. From his vantage point, he could see the
harbor and did not see either his ship nor the ship that had been so fitfully pursuing him.
*No worries,* he thought to himself cheerfully glad Captain Bradford was nowhere in sight.
*My crew will return for me, what with how good a captain I've been,* with that last thought, he
felt a little queasy, *Oh God, I might as well commandeer another boat and get a new crew...*
"I need a drink," he muttered sullenly. With that in mind, he went in search of the nearest
bar.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Elizabeth awoke with a gasp.
*What a horrible nightmare.* She could remember little from her dream, but what she
could sprayed vividly in her head. * Random scenes from her dream replayed in her head as if
she was watching a play. The first was of Will crying amongst deep folliage, an unknown
shadow looming over him. Then a cavernous wall being sprayed with blood. A woman stood
before me, bathed in shadow. Wisps of runaway hair billow in the breeze as the silent tears that
flowed down her face glistened in the moonlight. My view shifted and came around behind her
and I could see her start to fall forward. Over the cliff there was nothingness. I wanted to reach
out to scream for her to stop, but she fell. Fell into the darkness. She suddenly falls over the cliff
wall. The final internal was of Jack, his eyes flashing opening wide in pain and/or shock, to
which she could not be certain.
She couldn't help but wonder what these images meant. *Could those images really be
happening? Were they glimpses of the future? Could Will and/or Jack be in danger?* She sighed
dejectedly, *Though, I suppose it doesn't matter, I can no more effect their fates than my own.*
She looked up at the small circle of sky she could make out from across the ship's holding area.
Outside, the rain pelted the ship calmly. *It somewhat reflects my feelings, though a hurricane
would be much more sufficient*
It was terribly dark where she was, and she quickly remembered she was aboard a pirate
ship. She glanced at her feet which were indirectly bathed in moonlight peaking from behind
several clouds; something had bitten her ankle which had led to her waking up. *Great,* she
thought despairingly, *Rats.* She shuddered, rats were her least favorite rodent. She sucked in a
deep breath and nearly gagged on her hair. Her perfectly fixed hair from yesterday, *Dear God,
that was only yesterday, seems like an eternity ago,* now was completely unbound and framing
her face in flowing waves. Not willing to admit it to anyone but herself, she liked her hair down
much better than done up stuffily. Though she wished she had given herself the opportunity to
wear it like that more when she was safely in Port Royal, though propriety would've called for an
upswept hairdo. Only whores, poor, and servants were ever allowed to wear their hair down.
Stupid society, with stupid rules... *Each to his own* had been her take on the situation. It's just
hair. She rolled her eyes at the thoroughly demented and excessively meticulous customs. She
went to sweep the hair behind her ear, when she noticed not only were her hands tied together,
but they were tied to the cell's flat bars, her wrists were being rubbed raw by their tightness. She
leaned down, moving into a kneeling position so as to try to tame some of her unruly locks. A
loud scraping sound from close by suddenly made her acutely aware that she was not alone in the
brig.
"Hello..." she tried apprehensively, chastising herself in her head at how frightened she
sounded.
A gruff voice answered her from the adjacent cell, "Etre calme, s'il vous plait. Mon ami, je ne
veux pas que les gardes pour soit revenu."
Elizabeth squinted into the next cell, trying to make out the figure when a face appeared out
of the shadows barely inches from her own against the bars. Elizabeth scarcely was able to
contain the scream that threatened to surface.
The face was followed by a hand that brought a solitary finger to rest on the owners lips.
Elizabeth could tell at one time they had been perfectly manicured, now were slightly splintered
and terribly dirty. The young woman's face held a look of calm determination. "Vous êtes sûr
pour le moment" the stranger cooed. Her thick accent warming the air around them.
Elizabeth searched her brain quickly to figure out what she had said. Her mind raced back to
her first nanny. Being a highly respected lawyet, her father had been constantly busy. He had
made sure to stay so after the sudden death of her mother. She thought back to her young nanny.
She had been a French immigrant, and had taught Elizabeth fluent French. *Though, I did not
much keep up on it, and remember little,* she thought glumly. *I know what she said though, she
said something about me being safe for the moment.* The stranger, sensing Elizabeth calming
down, crawled closer. She reached out her hands toward Elizabeth's bonds. "Parlez vous
françaises?" the young girl asked quickly while working deftly at the ropes which had now cut so
deep into Elizabeth's skin they were starting to draw blood. "Do you speak French?" the girl
repeated her question in English.
"Only a little, from what I can remember as a child," Elizabeth admitted, drawing a sharp
breath in as the ropes tightened on her hands in the girl's attempt to free them.
"Ah! You speak d américaine then," she tried a small smile in Elizabeth's direction, "The
names Katherine Paradis, my close friends call me Kat. I'm the daughter of the most respected
French military ship's captain Jean Paradis. During a harsh storm, our ship, The Liberté de
Dame, was attacked. I've been kept here for nearly two weeks, though I can scarcely believe that's
the full extent of the time," she added sadly, lowering her head to stare at her hands, "It feels like
two years. Quick word of advice, mademoiselle, do not struggle. They will only hurt you worse,"
she stopped working on the hopeless ropes binding Elizabeth's hands, and began rubbed her
bruised wrists, remembering how they had held her down. She started to softly cry.
Elizabeth leaned against the bars, understanding that Kat was in deep pain.
"My name is Elizabeth Swann. My father is governor of Port Royal, Jamaica."
Kat calmed herself quickly. She sighed, understanding that no amount of tears would ever
take back what they had stolen from her. Elizabeth now understanding that the girl needed to
release some of the anguish she was carrying, carefully asked her what had happened to her.
"They took something from me. Basically what little was left of my dignity... and hope."
She ran her hand down the length of the rip in her once beautiful, now completely filthy velvet
dress. Elizabeth's eyes had become accustomed to the dim light and could make out the ripped
fabric. She audibly gasped, and instinctively went to bring her hand to her mouth, and was
quickly reminded of her situation. Kat continued, "I will not be rescued. I am now their
prostituée."
"No," Elizabeth insisted softly, "your father will find you."
Kat shook her head, "The captain took my scarf, my favorite, a gift given to me by my father
for my sixteenth birthday not three weeks ago. He gave it to his wife took out his two pistols and
shot her. Once in the head and once in the heart," she shuddered, "I know, because they made me
watch. They then laughed smugly in my face, while telling me their plan to send it back to my
father so he wouldn't bother them about me."
Elizabeth, horrified by the tale, found resolve suddenly pooling deep inside her. "We shall
have to rescue ourselves then. We cannot just let them take what they want of us and then toss us
aside." Her voice grew in strength, "We will figure something out."
An evil chuckle from the other side of the room startled both women and both their heads
snapped to where the sound had been heard.
"Ah, Miss. That would be a foolish idea. Seeing as you're incredibly outnumbered... and I
know I've warned ye about that before." His sneer was audible. Rooster quietly made his way
over to her cell followed by Striker. Gnat quickly descended from the stairs which were now
visible from the candle he was carrying.
He quickly cut the ropes binding her hands to the bars, but was careful not to unbind her
altogether. Pulling her deftly to her feet, he whispered knowingly into her ear. Her face contorted
with fear as the words echoed over and over in her brain. "The captain's ready to meet you now
my dear, try not to disappoint."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Will woke with a start. He was sitting in the corner of his cabin, facing out the window
that stared directly at the docks. Anger rose in him upon realization that he had allowed himself
to fall asleep.
"I cannot just sit here," he said aloud. He quickly changed, grabbed a belt suitable for
bearing a cutlass, his pistol, and a small purse filled with coins that had been hiding in one of his
cabinets. Quickly, he exited the cabin.
"Hold on, Elizabeth. I'm coming."
He ran down the docks, asking all the sailors along the way which direction they were
headed. One such gentleman smiled upon the man before him. "I'm headed toward Tortuga,
mate. How 'bout yourself?"
Will felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted. *Surely I can get some information there.
On top of that, I can make a deal and get passage to where Elizabeth's kidnappers are holding
her,* the right corner of his mouth stretch into a half smile.
"That sounds like a plan, how much for me to tag along... I'll gladly help around the
ship."
"If you can pull your weight, you can have free passage," the man commented, smiling.
Will extended his hand to the sailor. "Thank you, sir."
As the man went to shake Will's hand, the smile was wiped off his face as half a dozen
soldiers descended upon the dock.
The soldiers slowly made a path, and the governor walked through, a merciless scowl
firmly planted on his face. Will took a cautious step backwards, chanced a glance at the
gentleman willing to give him passage and found him gone.
"Now, you hold it right there," he yelled to Will, then continued to a soldier to his right.
"Bring forth the irons."
Will gave him a searching look, "What's the meaning of this?"
"You, Mr. Turner, have aided in the kidnaping of my precious daughter. Distracting the guard
who was protecting her and bringing her to an area with no type of protection, such acts make
you an enemy of me, my station, and the Crown," Will's face slowly turned from anger to horror
as the gravity of the governor's words hit him full force, practically knocking the wind out of
him, "and you are hereby to be taken into custody, pending the return of my daughter you will
either be looking at permanent jail time, or execution."
Will's face contorted in thought as the soldier sent to fetch the irons briskly returned carting
the crude handcuffs. "Secure Mr. Turner here and bring him back to the fort. I want him guarded
at all times." With those final orders, Governor Swann turned and headed back to the fort
himself.
The soldier with the irons walked slowly forward on the docks, hands shaking nervously.
All movement on the docks had either slowed or stopped completely. The soldier glanced over
his shoulder at his fellow soldiers, as if to make sure they were still there. As he neared, Will
tried to think up a way to escape. The soldier put a hand out to grab his wrist, and at that moment
a man was walking by and Will noticed a knife in his belt. Without a second thought, Will
grabbed the knife and the soldiers outstretched wrist. Spinning him around quickly, he pulled the
knife to his throat.
"One move, he dies," he cautioned the remaining soldiers on the dock. They flinched,
looked at each other, and went to advance. "On my word," Will yelled to them, "want him dead,
take another step!" The soldier clutched in his arms gasped as the dirty knife pricked his throat,
letting a thin trickle of blood escape.
The soldiers stopped immediately. "You won't make it out of the bay alive," the man
in his arms uttered sounding somewhere between anger and fright. "Watch me," Will whispered
into his ear. He thrust the soldier into the path of the weapons' bayonets. The soldier cried out in
pain as one pierced his shoulder. Will dove into the water and swam as fast as his arms and legs
could go, away from the dock. The other soldiers hurried to the edge of the dock and began
firing into the water. Bullets sped past his limbs, barely missing him. One nicked his ear. Causing
him to momentarily slow. The next pierced his right forearm, which began to bleed profusely. He
clutched it under water trying desperately to get away as fast as possible.
Will made his way out to sea, not sure where he was heading. He was quickly becoming
fearful as he starting to run out of oxygen. He looked around, not ready to surface and face the
firing squad. Luck was obviously shining upon him, because at that very moment a merchant
vessel was heading out of its place on the dock, in his direction. Will swam toward it slowly, so
as to not strain himself more than needed.
He looked down at his arm, clutching his wounded limb. Blood squeezed through his tight
grip, floating ominously about the area in which he floated. The boat slowly passed, slightly
picking up speed. Using his good arm to grab onto a free-floating rope attached to the ship's hull,
he wrapped his arm and leg around it, so as to steady himself better and give him the opportunity
to try and slow the blood flow of his injured limb.
He quickly took stock, and realized the ship was heading south. When they were far
enough away from Port Royal, but still close enough to easily swim to shore, Will released his
death grip on the rope. He crawled slowly up the beach and made his way into the foliage.
Leaning against a tree, Will ripped off a bit of fabric from his shirt and examined his arm. The
bullet had gone all the way through, and fortunately had not caused any real damage. Bandaging
the wound as tightly as possible without blocking blood flow to his hand, Will, for the first time
since he had woke up earlier felt more at ease. Immediately his thoughts turned to Elizabeth.
*How will I save you?* he thought, ashamed and stricken with thoughts of her being hurt
or abused. His thoughts turned to not twenty-four hours previous. *I should've never talked the
boy into getting the guard to chase him. Maybe then, you'd be safe...*
He struggled with similar thoughts running through his head, and suddenly his eyes closed
and unconsciousness took his body.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Anamaria scowled at no one in particular. The situation had played out exactly how she
had feared. The Golden Blade had stayed on their heels even after Jack had leapt off. They
seemed confused whether to follow Jack or not, assuming they knew it was Jack, but had decided
to take the Pearl instead.
They had gotten a bit of a break when they reached a nearby island. She had no idea the
name of this island, but she was no less happy to see it. They rejoiced when they were able to
lose the Blade in the shoals surrounding the island. Whoever had a brain to make this ship a
pirate ship was quite clever. The speed was designed, the only modification the new crew had
made was to slightly raise the bottom body style so as to maneuver around islands quicker and
easier. The Blade's body was too deep to clear the land safely, and they knew it, so Anamaria was
able to circumnavigate the island and head back toward Tortuga quicker and without many
problems.
But to her, and the rest of the crew's dismay, the Blade was doing exactly what it was
best known for: cutting through the water like, quite frankly, a knife.
*Damn him,* she cursed Jack silently. *Why does he always have to get us into these
messes?!*
Finding themselves in quite the precarious situation, Anamaria shifted uncomfortably at the
helm. There had never been a time where she felt this unsure behind the wheel, which is why she
was feeling so scared. As the crew raced around the ship trying to make it sail as fast as possible
through the waves, Anamaria pulled out a spyglass.
"Please, be something out there to help us... an island, a port...anything." she quietly
begged. She circled around, the ship was not closing in on them anymore, but was not backing
off. "Unlikely they would stop pursuing anyway. They've chased us this long, most likely they
intend to collect something for their trouble when they are certain Jack isn't aboard." She sighed
heavily, *Isn't like I haven't been forced into slavery or to be a private wench before...*
She tried to stop her mind from wandering too deep into dark thoughts. She began
scanning the horizon. As if to answer her silent prayers, she saw an advancing ship in the
distance. Though her joyful first impression was quickly dashed when she realized the tiny
specks of sails were white and plainly flying a blue and red, royal flag.
"Great," she muttered, "Red coats... they'll love me. African woman, dressed as a man,
captaining a pirate ship...bloody great."
Then, just as quickly, curiosity overtook her and a plan formed in her head.
She cheered self-indulgently and called out to a crew member, "Gibbs! Get up here!"
The overweight pirate rubbed his overgrown sideburns distressed, "What say you, Ana?"
A mischievous grin spread on her tired face. "I've got a plan."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
OK... That's all you're gonna get for now... I have more written.. It was 12 pages before I
made a second stopping point... so it's gonna get good soon. Jack's the best in the next chapter.
K... no spoilers... tell me what you think. Xfvixenffemail@yahoo.com Hate it? Love it? LET
ME KNOW! I must have feedback, 'ts the only way I'll learn. Thank you.
review! My story needs criticism.
*Again, thanks go out to Lauren, Austin Powers (awesome multiple choice answer!),
raininginnewyork, and anyone else, I may have missed... unlikely... but in case you're out there,
sorry.
Warning: Obscure references to rape.
Disclaimer: see chapter 1... I don't own them, I wish. Enjoy!
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Chapter 4: Just Great...
Jack's eyes fluttered open slowly.
"Where the devil...?" he started, then his memory returned. He raised his hand to
tentatively touch the back of his head. He winced at the sudden jolts of pain that assaulted his
head from the slight touch. He groaned, *Check... don't touch nasty bump.*
He slowly sat up and realized he had idea not where he was, and giving the surroundings an
uneasy glance, decided they looked did not look familiar.
The sound of dished clattering brought his eyes to rest upon a thin blonde figures back.
*Ouch,* thought Jack leering slightly at the girls form, *Who can that be...*
He moved to stand and was immediately assaulted by dizziness. Without warning, he
was back on the makeshift bed/couch which creaked loudly under his weight. The sound startled
the girl. She turned quickly. As if just remembering that he was there, relaxed considerably, an
angry scowl replacing the stunned look.
She returned to her work. "You finally up, Sparrow?" she yelled to the other side of the
shack.
Jack lifted his head slightly off the bed, to look at her back. "Aye.." He slowly sat up.
"Giselle?" he asked tentatively. Not ready to make the same mistake again, he swung his feet
slowly around to rest on the dirty floor.
Her thick English accent fluttered to where he sat, "You've been 'sleep nearly twelve
'ours."
"Yea?" he asked, shocked at the amount of time that had been out, he continued groggily.
"What 'appened?"
Stopping her chore, she looked out the window over her small side table where her wash
basin sat. She sighed.
Listening intently, Jack spoke up, "It couldn't have been that bad, love," he prodded, "if I
ended up here," he smiled mischievously at her, giving her backside a once-over.
She took in a deep breath and released it, "I only wanted you to know the 'urt you caused
me. A slap wasn't enough in my mind. After I truly thought about it, I practically wanted to kill
you, minus the fact that your sufferin' would then be ended. When you walked past me 'ome, I
couldn't help but take a wallop at your head," she said, anger creeping into her voice and then
subsiding as she continued, "but then you fell. For a second I thought you were dead." Jack heard
what could almost be interpreted as regret, as she continued to wash her dishes, "So, I brought
you 'ere. I felt bad, God knows why.. You deserved to be left there."
Jack rose slowly to his feet. He crept up behind her, wrapping her in his arms. She was at first
startled, then eased into his arms.
"Thank ya, love. I probably would've died, 'ad you not knocked me upside me 'ead and
taken me in." He leaned in to smell the sweet wild flower smell of her hair, "You know you're
one of my favorites." She tensed in his grasp, and he immediately regretted saying anything. His
face puckered into a grimace. She whirled around on him and slapped him square on the cheek,
sending not only his head, but his whole body, flailing to his right.
He flexed his jaw a few times as he tried desperately to choke out a response.
"Out! OUT NOW!" she screeched. She picked up a large metal pan, and preceded to
chase his swaggering form out of her tiny shack.
"Ease up there, love!" He tripped on the door frame as he ambled out the door, sending
his lean frame sprawling into the street. Many of the passing men snickered.
He scrambled to his feet, trying to save some face. Looking around him, he remembered
where he was and the events from the previous night. From his vantage point, he could see the
harbor and did not see either his ship nor the ship that had been so fitfully pursuing him.
*No worries,* he thought to himself cheerfully glad Captain Bradford was nowhere in sight.
*My crew will return for me, what with how good a captain I've been,* with that last thought, he
felt a little queasy, *Oh God, I might as well commandeer another boat and get a new crew...*
"I need a drink," he muttered sullenly. With that in mind, he went in search of the nearest
bar.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Elizabeth awoke with a gasp.
*What a horrible nightmare.* She could remember little from her dream, but what she
could sprayed vividly in her head. * Random scenes from her dream replayed in her head as if
she was watching a play. The first was of Will crying amongst deep folliage, an unknown
shadow looming over him. Then a cavernous wall being sprayed with blood. A woman stood
before me, bathed in shadow. Wisps of runaway hair billow in the breeze as the silent tears that
flowed down her face glistened in the moonlight. My view shifted and came around behind her
and I could see her start to fall forward. Over the cliff there was nothingness. I wanted to reach
out to scream for her to stop, but she fell. Fell into the darkness. She suddenly falls over the cliff
wall. The final internal was of Jack, his eyes flashing opening wide in pain and/or shock, to
which she could not be certain.
She couldn't help but wonder what these images meant. *Could those images really be
happening? Were they glimpses of the future? Could Will and/or Jack be in danger?* She sighed
dejectedly, *Though, I suppose it doesn't matter, I can no more effect their fates than my own.*
She looked up at the small circle of sky she could make out from across the ship's holding area.
Outside, the rain pelted the ship calmly. *It somewhat reflects my feelings, though a hurricane
would be much more sufficient*
It was terribly dark where she was, and she quickly remembered she was aboard a pirate
ship. She glanced at her feet which were indirectly bathed in moonlight peaking from behind
several clouds; something had bitten her ankle which had led to her waking up. *Great,* she
thought despairingly, *Rats.* She shuddered, rats were her least favorite rodent. She sucked in a
deep breath and nearly gagged on her hair. Her perfectly fixed hair from yesterday, *Dear God,
that was only yesterday, seems like an eternity ago,* now was completely unbound and framing
her face in flowing waves. Not willing to admit it to anyone but herself, she liked her hair down
much better than done up stuffily. Though she wished she had given herself the opportunity to
wear it like that more when she was safely in Port Royal, though propriety would've called for an
upswept hairdo. Only whores, poor, and servants were ever allowed to wear their hair down.
Stupid society, with stupid rules... *Each to his own* had been her take on the situation. It's just
hair. She rolled her eyes at the thoroughly demented and excessively meticulous customs. She
went to sweep the hair behind her ear, when she noticed not only were her hands tied together,
but they were tied to the cell's flat bars, her wrists were being rubbed raw by their tightness. She
leaned down, moving into a kneeling position so as to try to tame some of her unruly locks. A
loud scraping sound from close by suddenly made her acutely aware that she was not alone in the
brig.
"Hello..." she tried apprehensively, chastising herself in her head at how frightened she
sounded.
A gruff voice answered her from the adjacent cell, "Etre calme, s'il vous plait. Mon ami, je ne
veux pas que les gardes pour soit revenu."
Elizabeth squinted into the next cell, trying to make out the figure when a face appeared out
of the shadows barely inches from her own against the bars. Elizabeth scarcely was able to
contain the scream that threatened to surface.
The face was followed by a hand that brought a solitary finger to rest on the owners lips.
Elizabeth could tell at one time they had been perfectly manicured, now were slightly splintered
and terribly dirty. The young woman's face held a look of calm determination. "Vous êtes sûr
pour le moment" the stranger cooed. Her thick accent warming the air around them.
Elizabeth searched her brain quickly to figure out what she had said. Her mind raced back to
her first nanny. Being a highly respected lawyet, her father had been constantly busy. He had
made sure to stay so after the sudden death of her mother. She thought back to her young nanny.
She had been a French immigrant, and had taught Elizabeth fluent French. *Though, I did not
much keep up on it, and remember little,* she thought glumly. *I know what she said though, she
said something about me being safe for the moment.* The stranger, sensing Elizabeth calming
down, crawled closer. She reached out her hands toward Elizabeth's bonds. "Parlez vous
françaises?" the young girl asked quickly while working deftly at the ropes which had now cut so
deep into Elizabeth's skin they were starting to draw blood. "Do you speak French?" the girl
repeated her question in English.
"Only a little, from what I can remember as a child," Elizabeth admitted, drawing a sharp
breath in as the ropes tightened on her hands in the girl's attempt to free them.
"Ah! You speak d américaine then," she tried a small smile in Elizabeth's direction, "The
names Katherine Paradis, my close friends call me Kat. I'm the daughter of the most respected
French military ship's captain Jean Paradis. During a harsh storm, our ship, The Liberté de
Dame, was attacked. I've been kept here for nearly two weeks, though I can scarcely believe that's
the full extent of the time," she added sadly, lowering her head to stare at her hands, "It feels like
two years. Quick word of advice, mademoiselle, do not struggle. They will only hurt you worse,"
she stopped working on the hopeless ropes binding Elizabeth's hands, and began rubbed her
bruised wrists, remembering how they had held her down. She started to softly cry.
Elizabeth leaned against the bars, understanding that Kat was in deep pain.
"My name is Elizabeth Swann. My father is governor of Port Royal, Jamaica."
Kat calmed herself quickly. She sighed, understanding that no amount of tears would ever
take back what they had stolen from her. Elizabeth now understanding that the girl needed to
release some of the anguish she was carrying, carefully asked her what had happened to her.
"They took something from me. Basically what little was left of my dignity... and hope."
She ran her hand down the length of the rip in her once beautiful, now completely filthy velvet
dress. Elizabeth's eyes had become accustomed to the dim light and could make out the ripped
fabric. She audibly gasped, and instinctively went to bring her hand to her mouth, and was
quickly reminded of her situation. Kat continued, "I will not be rescued. I am now their
prostituée."
"No," Elizabeth insisted softly, "your father will find you."
Kat shook her head, "The captain took my scarf, my favorite, a gift given to me by my father
for my sixteenth birthday not three weeks ago. He gave it to his wife took out his two pistols and
shot her. Once in the head and once in the heart," she shuddered, "I know, because they made me
watch. They then laughed smugly in my face, while telling me their plan to send it back to my
father so he wouldn't bother them about me."
Elizabeth, horrified by the tale, found resolve suddenly pooling deep inside her. "We shall
have to rescue ourselves then. We cannot just let them take what they want of us and then toss us
aside." Her voice grew in strength, "We will figure something out."
An evil chuckle from the other side of the room startled both women and both their heads
snapped to where the sound had been heard.
"Ah, Miss. That would be a foolish idea. Seeing as you're incredibly outnumbered... and I
know I've warned ye about that before." His sneer was audible. Rooster quietly made his way
over to her cell followed by Striker. Gnat quickly descended from the stairs which were now
visible from the candle he was carrying.
He quickly cut the ropes binding her hands to the bars, but was careful not to unbind her
altogether. Pulling her deftly to her feet, he whispered knowingly into her ear. Her face contorted
with fear as the words echoed over and over in her brain. "The captain's ready to meet you now
my dear, try not to disappoint."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Will woke with a start. He was sitting in the corner of his cabin, facing out the window
that stared directly at the docks. Anger rose in him upon realization that he had allowed himself
to fall asleep.
"I cannot just sit here," he said aloud. He quickly changed, grabbed a belt suitable for
bearing a cutlass, his pistol, and a small purse filled with coins that had been hiding in one of his
cabinets. Quickly, he exited the cabin.
"Hold on, Elizabeth. I'm coming."
He ran down the docks, asking all the sailors along the way which direction they were
headed. One such gentleman smiled upon the man before him. "I'm headed toward Tortuga,
mate. How 'bout yourself?"
Will felt as though a heavy weight had been lifted. *Surely I can get some information there.
On top of that, I can make a deal and get passage to where Elizabeth's kidnappers are holding
her,* the right corner of his mouth stretch into a half smile.
"That sounds like a plan, how much for me to tag along... I'll gladly help around the
ship."
"If you can pull your weight, you can have free passage," the man commented, smiling.
Will extended his hand to the sailor. "Thank you, sir."
As the man went to shake Will's hand, the smile was wiped off his face as half a dozen
soldiers descended upon the dock.
The soldiers slowly made a path, and the governor walked through, a merciless scowl
firmly planted on his face. Will took a cautious step backwards, chanced a glance at the
gentleman willing to give him passage and found him gone.
"Now, you hold it right there," he yelled to Will, then continued to a soldier to his right.
"Bring forth the irons."
Will gave him a searching look, "What's the meaning of this?"
"You, Mr. Turner, have aided in the kidnaping of my precious daughter. Distracting the guard
who was protecting her and bringing her to an area with no type of protection, such acts make
you an enemy of me, my station, and the Crown," Will's face slowly turned from anger to horror
as the gravity of the governor's words hit him full force, practically knocking the wind out of
him, "and you are hereby to be taken into custody, pending the return of my daughter you will
either be looking at permanent jail time, or execution."
Will's face contorted in thought as the soldier sent to fetch the irons briskly returned carting
the crude handcuffs. "Secure Mr. Turner here and bring him back to the fort. I want him guarded
at all times." With those final orders, Governor Swann turned and headed back to the fort
himself.
The soldier with the irons walked slowly forward on the docks, hands shaking nervously.
All movement on the docks had either slowed or stopped completely. The soldier glanced over
his shoulder at his fellow soldiers, as if to make sure they were still there. As he neared, Will
tried to think up a way to escape. The soldier put a hand out to grab his wrist, and at that moment
a man was walking by and Will noticed a knife in his belt. Without a second thought, Will
grabbed the knife and the soldiers outstretched wrist. Spinning him around quickly, he pulled the
knife to his throat.
"One move, he dies," he cautioned the remaining soldiers on the dock. They flinched,
looked at each other, and went to advance. "On my word," Will yelled to them, "want him dead,
take another step!" The soldier clutched in his arms gasped as the dirty knife pricked his throat,
letting a thin trickle of blood escape.
The soldiers stopped immediately. "You won't make it out of the bay alive," the man
in his arms uttered sounding somewhere between anger and fright. "Watch me," Will whispered
into his ear. He thrust the soldier into the path of the weapons' bayonets. The soldier cried out in
pain as one pierced his shoulder. Will dove into the water and swam as fast as his arms and legs
could go, away from the dock. The other soldiers hurried to the edge of the dock and began
firing into the water. Bullets sped past his limbs, barely missing him. One nicked his ear. Causing
him to momentarily slow. The next pierced his right forearm, which began to bleed profusely. He
clutched it under water trying desperately to get away as fast as possible.
Will made his way out to sea, not sure where he was heading. He was quickly becoming
fearful as he starting to run out of oxygen. He looked around, not ready to surface and face the
firing squad. Luck was obviously shining upon him, because at that very moment a merchant
vessel was heading out of its place on the dock, in his direction. Will swam toward it slowly, so
as to not strain himself more than needed.
He looked down at his arm, clutching his wounded limb. Blood squeezed through his tight
grip, floating ominously about the area in which he floated. The boat slowly passed, slightly
picking up speed. Using his good arm to grab onto a free-floating rope attached to the ship's hull,
he wrapped his arm and leg around it, so as to steady himself better and give him the opportunity
to try and slow the blood flow of his injured limb.
He quickly took stock, and realized the ship was heading south. When they were far
enough away from Port Royal, but still close enough to easily swim to shore, Will released his
death grip on the rope. He crawled slowly up the beach and made his way into the foliage.
Leaning against a tree, Will ripped off a bit of fabric from his shirt and examined his arm. The
bullet had gone all the way through, and fortunately had not caused any real damage. Bandaging
the wound as tightly as possible without blocking blood flow to his hand, Will, for the first time
since he had woke up earlier felt more at ease. Immediately his thoughts turned to Elizabeth.
*How will I save you?* he thought, ashamed and stricken with thoughts of her being hurt
or abused. His thoughts turned to not twenty-four hours previous. *I should've never talked the
boy into getting the guard to chase him. Maybe then, you'd be safe...*
He struggled with similar thoughts running through his head, and suddenly his eyes closed
and unconsciousness took his body.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Anamaria scowled at no one in particular. The situation had played out exactly how she
had feared. The Golden Blade had stayed on their heels even after Jack had leapt off. They
seemed confused whether to follow Jack or not, assuming they knew it was Jack, but had decided
to take the Pearl instead.
They had gotten a bit of a break when they reached a nearby island. She had no idea the
name of this island, but she was no less happy to see it. They rejoiced when they were able to
lose the Blade in the shoals surrounding the island. Whoever had a brain to make this ship a
pirate ship was quite clever. The speed was designed, the only modification the new crew had
made was to slightly raise the bottom body style so as to maneuver around islands quicker and
easier. The Blade's body was too deep to clear the land safely, and they knew it, so Anamaria was
able to circumnavigate the island and head back toward Tortuga quicker and without many
problems.
But to her, and the rest of the crew's dismay, the Blade was doing exactly what it was
best known for: cutting through the water like, quite frankly, a knife.
*Damn him,* she cursed Jack silently. *Why does he always have to get us into these
messes?!*
Finding themselves in quite the precarious situation, Anamaria shifted uncomfortably at the
helm. There had never been a time where she felt this unsure behind the wheel, which is why she
was feeling so scared. As the crew raced around the ship trying to make it sail as fast as possible
through the waves, Anamaria pulled out a spyglass.
"Please, be something out there to help us... an island, a port...anything." she quietly
begged. She circled around, the ship was not closing in on them anymore, but was not backing
off. "Unlikely they would stop pursuing anyway. They've chased us this long, most likely they
intend to collect something for their trouble when they are certain Jack isn't aboard." She sighed
heavily, *Isn't like I haven't been forced into slavery or to be a private wench before...*
She tried to stop her mind from wandering too deep into dark thoughts. She began
scanning the horizon. As if to answer her silent prayers, she saw an advancing ship in the
distance. Though her joyful first impression was quickly dashed when she realized the tiny
specks of sails were white and plainly flying a blue and red, royal flag.
"Great," she muttered, "Red coats... they'll love me. African woman, dressed as a man,
captaining a pirate ship...bloody great."
Then, just as quickly, curiosity overtook her and a plan formed in her head.
She cheered self-indulgently and called out to a crew member, "Gibbs! Get up here!"
The overweight pirate rubbed his overgrown sideburns distressed, "What say you, Ana?"
A mischievous grin spread on her tired face. "I've got a plan."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
OK... That's all you're gonna get for now... I have more written.. It was 12 pages before I
made a second stopping point... so it's gonna get good soon. Jack's the best in the next chapter.
K... no spoilers... tell me what you think. Xfvixenffemail@yahoo.com Hate it? Love it? LET
ME KNOW! I must have feedback, 'ts the only way I'll learn. Thank you.