Disclaimer: I own nothing from PotC, I only own Samantha and any other original characters.
This is just a story I'm writing after seeing PotC. Yeah, it does have an original girl character, but I'm trying to make it exiting and fun to read, without a lot of Mary-Sueism. So read if you wish, review if you wish, I like constructive reviews, I reserve the right to laugh my head off at pathetic flamers. J So, I hope you enjoy this along with the 100 or so PotC fics that have cropped up.
~SE
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Samantha Kane stomped to her room, scowling heavily. What had begun as a fairly decent day had quickly taken a nasty toll on the twenty year old girl's quickly riled temper. Entering her bedroom and flinging the door shut behind her with such a force that it shook the whole house, Samantha picked up her hairbrush from her bedside table and threw it in a rage across the room where it hit the opposite wall with a smash, then fell to the floor with a clatter. A clap of thunder outside and the increasingly grayer skies echoed Samantha's mood. And it was all her parents fault.
Desperately trying to calm down enough to think straight, Samantha perched herself on the edge of her four-poster bed, but her eyes still glittered with anger.
At the dinner table, moments before, Samantha's parents had announced to her with pride that they had arranged a marriage for her. Samantha had been slightly surprised, she knew her parents had been contacting and having her meet with potential suitors for a few weeks, but she had never expected anything to be final so soon.
Nonetheless, it was fine with her until they had told her who she was to wed.
As soon as the words, "Edward Ross," had escaped their lips, Samantha had flung her fork down so hard a crack had appeared in her china plate.
"But father, mother!" she had cried, completely put-out, "I hate him!"
That statement had made her mother purse her lips, and her fathers thick eyebrows slanted downward, making him look like an angry hawk.
It wasn't even just the prospect of arranged marriage that angered Samantha; actually, she had virtually no problem with it. As long as the man she ended up marrying was not Edward Ross. Out of all the men she had met with, he was the richest, but also the most conceited.
Money was a big deal to Samantha's mother and father, who were the sort of people who thought that riches should stay in the family, and to do that, their children should also marry wealthy people. Samantha's two sisters, Kate and Jane had already made perfectly respectable marriages to wealthy lads that were deemed acceptable by Mr. and Mrs. Kane. Kate and Jane were both a year younger than Samantha.
In truth, Mr. and Mrs. Kane had had rather a hard time finding men who would consider the prospect of marriage with their eldest daughter. It was known all through their home of Port Smith that the oldest Kane girl was not the easiest person to get along with. She was lovely enough, with her long red hair and deep blue eyes, but she was strong-chinned and more stubborn than a mule. Such were the rumors that circulated so quickly in the area that Mr. and Mrs. Kane were reduced to having to find men outside Port Smith, who knew nothing of Samantha.
Most of them, in Samantha's opinion, should have heeded any warnings they were given when they arrived in the Port and were asked what their business was. It would have saved her quite a bit of time dismissing them in turn. They had to be the most pompous, self-absorbed wealthy men she had ever met in her life.
After watching Samantha single-handedly drive off man after man with her sharp tongue, Mr. and Mrs. Kane began to grow desperate. If this continued, Samantha would never be married!
Such was their urgency that they forced themselves to beg and plead with Samantha, trying to get her to soften her opinion of the suitors a bit, get to really know them before she threatened to box their ears and sent them away. Deep in her heart, Samantha knew she was being unfair to everyone. But that did not stop her. A nagging feeling inside told her she just wasn't ready for the commitment that was marriage, and being shrewd was her way of delaying it further.
Eventually, though it took a great amount of effort and patience, Mr. and Mrs. Kane convinced Samantha to stop what she was doing and take the matter seriously. Even though Samantha knew they had been right all along, she hated being wrong, so she made it seem like it was she herself who had changed her mind, not that they had changed it for her.
"You are right," she had said primly, "I'll stop rejecting everyone who comes to call."
Mr. and Mrs. Kane knew she was trying to take credit for all their hard begging and toiling, but they kept their mouths shut and breathed in relief.
Samantha never again threatened any of the potential suitors, in fact; she seemed to be getting along quite well with a few of them. Mr. and Mrs. Kane were so happy to see this that they bought her a lovely new dress. It was navy blue in color, and when Samantha saw it, her eyes lit up. She twirled around her room, holding the dress up to her shoulders, admiring the way the full skirt swished about her ankles.
When the next man, by the name of Edward, came to her one day, Samantha made quite a show of being smitten with him. She had realized that when her parents were pleased with her, they would show it in some physical way. Such as a new dress. Samantha had never been the real object of their affections. Kate and Jane had always gotten the gifts and praise, and Samantha liked the feeling of being doted upon. Latching onto the newfound feeling, and hoping to get some other reward from her actions, she went everywhere with Edward. She ate lunch with him in the garden; she laughed at his feeble jokes and took walks to the docks with him.
Samantha knew she was putting on a good show from the appraising looks in her parent's eyes, but she never noticed the exact same look on the face of Edward when he looked at her. Since she secretly loathed him with all her might, she never gave a thought to him talking to her parents and asking for permission to marry her. But that was exactly what he did.
It was all this that caused Samantha to be sitting on her bed that night after dinner, reliving the events miserably in her memory. Now, a few days later, the full impact of what she had done hit her like a bolt of lightning. She had used her parents and Edward, and was going to have to pay the price. She wasn't proud of what she had done, but if she had known what the result would be, she never would have pretended to like Edward in the first place. Or would she?
"Probably not," Samantha muttered darkly, "I hate admitting that I'm wrong." A hint of scorn in her voice, she said to herself, "And I'm as stubborn as a mule."
Sighing, she fell back onto her pillows, breathing quietly and listening to the distant sounds that floated in from her open window. Port Smith was a leisurely, lazy sort of place. Nothing exiting ever really happened. Some men had gotten very drunk at the local pub once, and had set fire to someone's barn. Even the animals in Port Smith were lazy. The cows had filed out of the barn slowly, almost grudgingly as their home crackled into flames around them. None of them had even let out so much as a moo.
Officers in Port Smith, garbed in their bright red uniforms and wielding muskets, patrolled the streets, but it was all in vain. No riots ever broke out and no arguments were ever enough to attract the attention of the officers. Even the occasional pirate hangings were so hushed that no one attended, either because they didn't know, or just more likely didn't give them a thought.
The only place in Port Smith that was ever home to any activity was the docks. Samantha walked down their sometimes when the quiet stillness of her home became too much. There were always large ships, sometimes cargo and sometimes not, anchored in rows. Men called and laughed loudly as they set about their days work, loading or unloading the large vessels. To Samantha, living on a ship seemed exiting. The idea of never knowing what a day was going to be like when you woke up thrilled her. The smell of the salty air invigorated her and was one of the only things that could ever cause the corners of her mouth to twitch into a smile.
Leaning back on her hands atop her bed, Samantha breathed in. A faint smell of wind from the sea reached her nostrils and she relaxed a little. But just as soon as she did, a very unpleasant thought caused a pang in her heart. Something her father had said.
"Edward Ross is a most respectable lad. Lives in a large house in…What was it, Marchland, I think."
Samantha gave a fresh scowl as her father's words sounded in her head. On top of being despicable, Edward also lived in a town that was so far inland she'd be lucky to hear the cry of a seagull, let alone ever see the ocean and its crystal blue Caribbean waters again.
All this was too much. Everything had gone wrong. Samantha had never meant for anything like this to happen. Hating herself more than she hated Edward, a tear escaped from the corner of Samantha's eye. Not bothering to wipe it away, but despising herself for crying, Sam edged her way off her bed toward her window. If she stood on her tiptoes and peered over the high rooftop of the blacksmith's, a sparkling ribbon of blue-green met her eyes.
She stood at her window until the sky grew dark around her and the rain that had been threatening to fall all day broke free of the clouds. As the water pounded against the roofs of Port Smith, Samantha closed her eyes in longing. She hated her home for its lack of activity, but she was sure she'd hate Marchland even more. She didn't know when her father and mother expected her to marry Edward and move to his large house, but she knew it would happen eventually, and there was no stopping it, as much as she would have liked to.
For a fleeting moment, she considered just gathering a few things, climbing out her window and seeking adventure and happiness on her own. A pretty girl down the street by the name of Mary-Sue had done just that, and as far as anyone knew everything had worked out for her, she had met the man of her dreams and was perfectly happy.
But no, Samantha thought savagely, I never did like that Mary-Sue, all she was doing was running away from her problems, I'm not like that; I'm not going to run away.
And with a last look at the docks far away and below her, Samantha changed into her nightgown, blew out the candle that illuminated her room and pulled her covers up to her neck. If she was going to have to marry some man she despised, so be it. It wasn't like there was anything to be done about it.
Wondering dimly what Edward would think when he saw her again and she wasn't acting adoring like when he previously saw her, Samantha gave a small, mischievous grin. Maybe he wouldn't want to marry her after all. But a reasonable part of her mind told her, "Of course he'll still marry you. He asked your parents for permission, and being the gentleman that he is, he can't very well back out of it. Plus, he's rich and you're family is rich."
"Bloody money," Samantha whispered through gritted teeth.
As a calm and rainy sleep drifted over Port Smith, its occupants laid to rest. If any of them had chosen to look out their windows toward the sea near around midnight, they might have noticed an unfamiliar ship making its way toward their home on the horizon and given a warning. But maybe not. Maybe none of them would have given it a thought.