*AN: Fanfiction= Not mine. Well, most not mine. The children (who you
will be introduced to later) are mine-- but they are for sale, if anyone
actually wants the brats.
Sorry. Moving on.
This is un-beta-ed, and still under massive inspiration. So things are still being worked out. Tell me if stuff don't make sense.
This is the second version, hopefully it flows better. It's also been condensed, FYI.
Pairings: JackAna, WillLiz.
I'm a traditionalist, sorry.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ Children? In Tortuga?
Anamaria sat in the tavern, looking bored. Captain Jack Sparrow was well on his way to getting rip-roaring drunk on his favorite drink, rum, while the rest of his crew closely followed suit, funded by their latest booty. The men were failing to amuse her with their usual antics of bellowing ballads and rowdy stories, so she turned her attentions out the door, to the streets of Tortuga.
As a pirate's port, it certainly served its purpose. It got pirates drunk and- the male ones- laid. 'Twas really all that mattered-- to the male pirates. Plenty of cheap whores to be found. Anamaria firmly turned her bitter musings towards the loud row being held out on the street. A fat, rolly-polly (thus successful) whore was screaming at the top of her lungs at two dwarf-like midgets-- no, not midgets. Children? In Tortuga? Unheard of. There weren't children here. Prostitutes never actually bore out any of their pregnancies: they would lose business definitely for about nine months, and the reputation would go around of child-bearing, and then the customers would be uneasy. Needless to say, abortion was the method of choice in Tortuga.
Her curiosity aroused, Anamaria went to investigate.
"Ye horrid brats!" The painted prostitute screeched, and slurred at the same time. She was tipsy- not drunk, but tipsy. "I be tire o' ye ruinin' me business! Out! Out I say! Begone! I refuse te watch ye spawn o' Satan anymore!"
The whore began flailing about, to the amusement of the patrons and fellow whores behind her, in an attempt to hit the two small children. As her vision was alcohol impaired, all of her blows missed. Anamaria's eyes narrowed anyway.
Anamaria noted one whore, a slightly-built blonde dressed in various shades of green, with a pained look on her face. She was probably responsible for whatever good these children ever had.
The elder of the two children, a flame-haired boy, about 6 or 7 Anamaria would estimate, grabbed the smaller child, a Hispanic-looking girl about 2, into his grubby arms, in an attempt to shield her.
"But, mum." He weakly protested. "Me sis mean no harm."
"That I be not sure of! The bitch attacked me customer! Bit 'em on the leg, 'e did!"
The young boy countered, "But 'e just a baby! And 'e kicked 'er!"
The whore leaned down into his face and screamed, "Begone, miscreant! I 'ave no more to do with you!"
And with that, she stomped through the whorehouse door, and slammed it shut.
Her audience, fed from the whorehouse and the street, began to slowly disperse, some with drunken backwards glances toward the dismal pair left in the street.
Anamaria watched the boy turn about slowly in a circle, looking at the groups of drunks watching the children curiously, and most with unhealthy interest.
The boy called out, "Do anyone need a worker? I ca' work real hard, and I ca' do anythin'!" Desperation tinged his voice.
Anamaria felt a tightening in her chest, and quickly walked over to the two. Being one of the only sober people in the street meant she easily beat all of the drunks who attempted to totter towards the easy booty of the two innocent children.
"It just so happens we be short a cabin boy on me ship." She said, in a deep and serious tone. "D'ya think ye could handle that?"
The boy nodded enthusiastically, his shock of red hair falling over his eyes. "Aye, lady. That I could!"
"Good." Anamaria barked. "Then follow me, youngster." And with that, she set off. Her normal walk was a relatively brisk pace, and soon she unknowingly left the youngster in the dust.
The boy looked down at his now-sleeping burden, and at the quickly disappearing woman pirate.
"Lady! I be coming!" He announced determinedly.
Anamaria turned on her heel, and saw the boy attempt to drag the sleeping girl by the arms in order to catch up with herself. Luckily, the sleeper took no notice of this abuse upon her person and continued snoring delicately.
Anamaria shook her head, and walked back to the pair. "'ere," she motioned with her hands, and picked the sleeping child up. "I'll take 'er." The boy looked up at her with wide, blue eyes, filled with an emotion Anamaria never thought to see in a child's eyes- fear.
"Never ye mind, boy, I won't harm ye --sister." She stumbled, as the children were obviously not related by blood, but that was the only title she could think of to reassure the boy.
The boy relaxed, sighing. His little body seemed to sag under this release of stress. Anamaria panicked, thinking that he was going to collapse, and scooped him up with her free arm.
Grunting a bit, she felt him sag against her, and mumble, "I can too walk meself."
Anamaria bit back a chuckle, and whispered, "But it be quicker this way, lad."
She felt the lad nod as she strolled back to the Black Pearl, laden with two new burdens.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ Kiddos on Board the Black Pearl
She tip-toed as quietly as she could onto the ship, trying not to alert the watchman, who just happened to be Gibbs, the first mate.
He cocked an eyebrow at her two burdens. "Whatcha be takin' there, lass?"
From his angle, it looked like two sacks of grain garbed in strangely colored sacks. Anamaria looked about. "The kids were kicked outta a whorehouse. They gots ta be the only ones on Tortuga. Kiddos, I mean. Boy and girl. They can only be safer 'ere. Just don't tell Jack- 'e'd pitch a royal fit."
Gibbs shifted uneasily. "It be bad luck for a woman to be aboard-- even ye, competent though ye be. A girl-child, I dunno."
"Please, Gibbs."Anamaria pleaded, perhaps for the first time in her life, moved by these two children asleep in her arms. "They got nowhere else te go."
Gibbs turned his back to her. "Fine. But it's up to ye to convince the rest of who find out." Anamaria released a sigh of relief. "Good. I'll be 'idin' em in the 'old."
It all went quietly for three days. Anamaria always managed to be in the hold whenever a crew member happened on the children, whom she had stashed in a cubbyhole behind the half-empty boxes of the Black Pearls' latest booty. She took them out on deck in the moonlight, in an attempt to let them see the sea, and get some fresh air. She only did so when she was certain that the night watchmen were friendly, and that Jack was sleeping. She had managed to convince most of the crew with a bit of threatening, and some with pleading, such a rare event that none of the crew had ever seen it. The topper for all was the children's sob-story of the scary prostitute. The girl's huge green eyes didn't hurt.
The boy's attempts to do menial tasks certainly added to the acceptance the crew adapted towards the two. They observed him tackle such chores as unknotting rope and helping Anamaria clean the galley, whose duty she had volunteered for so that she could watch the kids at all times. Jean, the galley cook, took to the kids immediately, and spoiled them rotten at every opportunity.
The crew adopted an attitude of uncle-ness, as much as this can be adopted in three days, towards the children: playing with them during their free time, showing the boy how to tie knots, assisting the girl in tottering about like a drunken pirate, teaching her simple swear words, protecting either from any sort of threat- from a crazed rat to a crazed Captain. They even helped Anamaria with the girl's diapers- sneaking her water, finding more bits of cloth, throwing the used ones discreetly overboard.
An oft-heard comment was, "Me never knew a kiddie before- I left before me kid sister/brother/son/daughter/obscure relative grew up very much."
The most important thing, though, was they all agreed to hide the kids' existence from Jack.
It wasn't that Captain Jack Sparrow hated kids and would eat them for breakfast, alive and stewed in their own bodily fluids. It was that Captain Jack Sparrow had had a bad experience with the cabin boy, a youngster of 10. The chubby spoiled boy had the nerve to stowaway on ship for an adventure, and then, when discovered, cursed the crew for not being as bloodthirsty as he thought they would be. When he realized that being bloodthirsty pirates meant that they would have killed him, he turned into a blubbering idiot and begged for his life. This was when Jack made his fatal mistake-- he let the kid stay, made him a cabin boy. At the soonest port the kid had turned them into the authorities, and it had only been Jack's amazing luck and skill that got the entire crew out of port alive. Afterwards, Jack roundly cursed all children under the age of 15, (how he came at that number, no one knew), and threatened to throw the next child aboard his ship to Davy Jones. He was so angry, the crew took him at his word.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ Name Games
Anamaria's biggest hurdle was figuring out names for the kids. It began the first morning of the stowaway's adventure, when she woke them up for breakfast.
"'Ey, boy. 'Ere's breakfast. What's ye name, anyway? I can't keep calling ye "boy" all the time." She gave each of them a roll of cornbread and a jug of water. The little girl immediately smashed the roll to bits, giggled, and stuffed each of the bits methodically in her mouth. She giggled like a drunkard the entire time, muttering, "Bre, bre.yum!"
Anamaria shook her head and crouched down to join them.
The boy shrugged. "I dunno. The 'ores usually called me "Idiot" o' "Fool" o' "Whelp.""
Anamaria snorted, remembering another who went by the name of "Whelp". He was nothing like the boy before her. In fact, Will was probably a man now, married, maybe even with a whelp of his own on the way.
She examined the kid. "Well, you're just gonna have to pick a name, then. And one for the girl, too. I refuse to call ye 'Whelp.' Got it?"
The boy nodded eagerly, his mouth stuffed with cornbread.
He swallowed. "Can I be Jack? Like the Cap'n?"
Anamaria rolled her eyes. For a kid who should be terrified of the guy, the boy was beginning to show the signs of severe hero worship from afar. By Sparrow's reputation alone. What was she going to do when the kid actually met him?
"Not a good idea, lad. Two people with the same name can be a bit confusing."
He sat, quietly. Anamaria could feel the powers of concentration he summoned.
"Tis ok, kid. Think about it a bit. I gots to go do me duties now. I'll be back in a bit." She stood up with a deep breath.
He nodded, then looked up at her suddenly. "Wot's ye name?"
Anamaria smiled. "Anamaria Corsair."
He muttered to himself. "An-na-ma-ma-ria Cor-sa-air"
Her smile turned to a frown. She didn't want to make life difficult for the kid.
She knelt again. "Just call me "Ria"."
He grinned, a happy beam of sunshine that left Anamaria a bit breathless. "Ok, Ria."
Anamaria turned and walked up the stairs, reflecting on what she had gotten into.
That night, when Anamaria was sneaking the kids a piece of fish and some more water, she ran into her Captain.
"Why, Cap'n, lovely night, isn't it?" Her heart pounded. She knew, despite the swaying of Jack Sparrow's lean body, and drunken tottering, that he was often in possession of his full facilities, even if he didn't like it.
He leaned forward, towards her, and his breath reeked of rum. "Aye, luv, ain't it? Not as lovely as me Pearl, but close."
He wheeled, a bottle of rum in hand, and leaned on the rail. "Freedom is the most beautiful thing in the world." His head turned towards Anamaria. "Honesty comes pretty close, though."
Anamaria gulped softly, then gathered her wits.
"Certainly, Cap'n, as does purity, charity, and love of justice." She retorted. She then turned to walk down the stairs.
"Wot's with the food, luv?" Jack's voice questioned softly.
"Me dinner. I meant to dine under the stars, but I find the company on deck unsavory." Anamaria replied, and walked down the stairs as quickly as she could without making it look like a retreat.
The boy announced when he saw her, "I decided me name!"
"Oh?" murmured Anamaria, and plopped down on the floorboards beside him. "And it be."
"Capt'n!"
Anamaria sighed.
"Boy, that' s a title, not a name." She racked her mind for suggestions, then studied the boy bouncing on his rear next to her knee.
"'Ow about Zeke?" She asked him.
"Zeke?" he tilted his head up at her. "I like it. Wot's it from?"
Anamaria looked at him, and didn't see him. "It was me father's name." She shook herself suddenly. "And did ye think of a girl's name yet?"
The boy-- Zeke, now-- shook his head. "Nope."
Anamaria smiled slightly. "I'll ask me crew."
The crew had more than enough suggestions. "Anna." and "Maria" were two she immediately discarded. "Purity." "Chastity". She didn't want a future pirate- a very likely possibility, given the girl's current situation-- burdened with a fancy name. Much less one that would end up being quite the opposite of the girl's actual behavior. Anamaria didn't approve of ironic names for children.
"Goldie." God, the men couldn't get their mind off of treasure, could they?
"Pearl." Same, with the added disadvantage of it already being the ship's name.
"Rum." Never.
Gibbs personally favored, "Marin." It meant ocean in some foreign tongue, but Anamaria didn't want a name that didn't reflect the girl's heritage. And from the girl's looks, she was of Spanish descent, not Irish.
It was Cotton's parrot who actually came up with the name. "Awk!" It squawked. "Mi amor de Espana, Ella es muy encantada."
Encantada. Enchanting. Anamaria examined the girl in her mind. Sunny disposition, curly black- as-sin hair, and lively green eyes. Enchanting.
Encantada.
Áda for short.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ The Bursting of the Bubble
Anamaria was happily reflecting on her current success with life when she heard the boom of cannons, and cursing on deck.
She looked wildly about from her spot on the poop deck, and saw what one would assume to be a (relatively) friendly pirate ship on the starboard side, approaching fast. However, her theory was blow to pieces when the ship fired on the Black Pearl, again.
Anamaria began to bear her teeth in a happy, bloodthirsty grin, drawing her sword, when she realized a very vital fact: the kid's hidey-hole was located directly where the enemy was firing. With a desperation she didn't know she possessed, Anamaria dropped her sword in a panic and dashed across the deck to the stairs, ignoring the jaw- dropping of her comrades. She jumped down the flight of stairs to where the crates were now smashed to pieces. She screamed in horror.
Zeke stuck his head out from behind a smashed crate of silks. "Ria?" He called.
Anamaria almost collapsed from relief. Then she stiffened. "Where's Áda?" she asked him as she rushed over to the wreckage.
"Right here." Zeke, clever boy, Anamaria thought. At the sound of cannons, he had snuck between two crates, and covered Áda's body with his own. Áda looked at her with large eyes, and gurgled. "Boom!" she chuckled.
"C'mon," she said, and scooped the two of them in her arms similar to their first night. "We're going to hide somewhere else now."
"No boom?' Áda cooed softly as she wound Anamaria's dark hair in her cubby fist.
Anamaria was about to release a dry chuckle when she reached the deck. All holy hell had let loose. The other crew had boarded the Pearl.
Anamaria dashed across the deck, dodging dueling pirates and ducking past flying bullets. She kicked open Jack's cabin, and rushed over to Jack's desk, which was littered with maps and various other papers. She pulled open a large drawer and dumped Zeke into it.
"You're going to hide here, understand?" She ordered him, looking deep into his eyes. His face was grave as he replied, "Aye-aye, mum."
She was about to dump Áda into the drawer with him when the door to the cabin slammed open again. Anamaria whirled and shut the drawer with her foot. She faced a grizzled old pirate, with a leer on his face and a sword in his hand, armed with only a babe on one hip and a pistol, unloaded, still tucked into her belt on the other. Her eyes darted about looking for inspiration when a single shot echoed throughout the cabin, and the pirate slumped to the floor in front of her.
Anamaria thought she heard "Boom!" drooled into her shirt.
Standing behind the pirate was Captain Jack Sparrow. He merely bowed in a tipsy manner and turned drunkenly about to dive back into the fray.
Anamaria narrowed her eyes, and tucked the child into the drawer with her older brother. She then grabbed the fallen pirate's sword, and joined in the fight.
When the deck had finally been cleared of the enemy and of the dead, Anamaria attempted to sneak back into the Captain's cabin while he was still occupied with the task of re-organizing the ship. She was two steps from the door before he managed to slip his exotic, enigmatic self between her and her charges.
Anamaria wanted to bellow her frustration. So she did.
"What, Cap'n?"
He tsk'ed her softly. "Now, now, me luv. Is that how ye talk to someone who saved ye life, as well as the lives of ye children? Not to mention I be your own Captain as well?"
Anamaria snorted. "They be not mine." Then she paused, thought, and shook her head. "Never mind." Then her eyes widened in realization. Panic dawned.
"Cap'n, they won't be no trouble. Just let me keep 'em for the remainder of the trip, then I'll be outta ye hair and both the whelps'll be gone. Honor."
She paused a moment before whipping out her big guns. "Besides, ye still owe me a boat. Give me the boat, I'll take the kiddos off ye hands."
Jack snorted. "Me got nothin' against children."
Anamaria gaped. "But.but.."
Jack shook his head, his various beads and shells on his braids and dreadlocks rattling madly. "Naw, luv, I've changed me mind. Heat o' the moment an' all. Thought ye knew better. Ah, just let the kiddies be for now."
He tilted his head. "I wanna play wid 'em for a bit."
Anamaria felt herself tremble. Since when had she been so possessive of the brats? "That's okay, Cap'n, I'll take 'em outta ye hands right enough."
Jack shook his head. "Naw, I want to see what kiddies so entranced my crew that it boarded on outright mutiny."
Anamaria argued. "Twere'nt mutiny! Just protecting some innocents, 'is all."He voice died as Jack turned suddenly, and tottered into this cabin. Anamaria followed as close behind as she dared.
They came upon the children curled into one ball in the deep drawer that Anamaria had hidden them in. Jack peered into the crate, and Anamaria tried to see what he saw. Two whelps, curled together. One a boy of six, with a blue bandana, courtesy of Gibbs, holding back his bright red hair. His overly large blue striped shirt was rolled at the sleeves and torn indiscriminately. His striped orange pants had a huge hole in the knee of the visible leg. The girl, of dark hair and medium skin, was of some type of Indian or Hispanic origin. Her curly hair was originally in one thick braid, although you could barely tell now. She too was garbed in a large shirt, only the bright green cloth acted like a dress, and hers too was rolled to fit a tad more easily. A rope was tied around her waist, and her purple cloth diaper showed.
Anamaria eyed her Captain nervously, out of the corner of her eye, trying to figure out whether Jack was really drunk, and how much so when Áda suddenly woke up and yanked one of Jack's dangling dreadlocks.
The resulting yell made everyone in the Caribbean jump.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ Discoveries and Oaths
Áda sat on Jack's lap at the head of the table in the galley. Currently her face was smeared with some sort of jam, and dotted with bread crumbs. They had immediately reconciled with Áda's happy little gurgle at Jack's horrified face. Jack was instantly charmed, although he did his best to hide it.
Anamaria tried not to laugh as she looked down at Zeke, who was sitting next to her on the bench. He was looking around warily, his eyes wide with worry, flicking from one uproariously drunk pirate to the next. He disturbed Anamaria's peace of mind. She was one of the few sober ones-- Gibbs, normally in sub-command with her, was pleasantly buzzed, a state he sought often. As so long as one of the responsible pirates remained sober, the rest could party, celebrate the victory and so forth. After all, someone had to make sure the Pearl stayed on course. But it didn't solve her problem-- What was wrong with this kid? He didn't touch his food, and his tiny hands gripped either side of his seat on the bench tightly.
She leaned down. "What's wrong, kiddo?" she murmured quietly. The kid was developing a very touchy ego around his idols-- especially Jack.
He shook his head, his eyes still wide.
Anamaria sat back, reflecting. She had found him at a tavern, where one could usually find all sorts of unsavory characters. A few jerks, several extreme horrible people. All sorts of depravity and craziness on a regular basis. Cruelty, often, too. A horrible thought crossed her mind-- had Zeke been abused? Drunken pirates -- with the exception of a few, notably the crew of the Black Pearl-- cared little for a child, even less if it provided a target for abuse and entertainment. Suddenly, Anamaria grabbed the back of Zeke's shirt and pulled it up. He yelped, and attempted to twist away, but Anamaria's grip remained firm. Her fears were confirmed by the criss-cross of scars and marks across Zeke's back. He had been beaten- and from the variety in the age of the scars, for quite a period of time.
Anamaria's jaw tightened. She grabbed Zeke and hauled him to the deck. So she could freak at him privately.
Once they reached the deck, she spun and crouched so that they were eye to eye. "Why didn't ye tell me?" She demanded of him. "Why didn't ye tell me the drunk bastards took swipes at ye?"
Zeke looked to the ground. "I was scarit." He admitted. "Áda needed someone to protect 'er, and all she had was me. So I had to find somewhere to stay. And you were the only nice one who didn't smell like the bad stuff, so that's why I picked you. And everyone was so nice here, and they didn't hit me like I thought they would when they drank the bad stuff. But I still got scairt." This all came out in a mumbled rush.
Swept with sympathy, Anamaria carefully gathered Zeke in her arms and rocked him. "Oy, boyo, it's ok. We'll just treat that up all nice." Then she held him at arm's length. "I promise ye, at no time will the crew, ever, ever hit or hurt you. I promise."
Zeke peeked at her hopefully. "Nobody ever made me a promise before." Then he paused. "Even the Cap'n? 'Cause he's always drinkin' the bad stuff." He wrinkled his nose. "And he really smells like it-- all the time."
"Even the Cap'n." A gruff voice muttered behind them, and Zeke spun to face Captain Jack Sparrows' stomach. He looked up in alarm. Jack crouched so that he looked Zeke in the eye, releasing Áda to crawl to Anamaria.
Anamaria watched the tableau in awe. Jack carefully grasped Zeke's thin shoulders in a gentle grip with his elegant fingers.
Zeke actually relaxed in the gaze of the unreadable chocolate eyes-- for it was not the gaze of a drunk. It was the gaze of a person who, despite all appearances and smells, was well within control. The Captain of the Black Pearl, for all his rambling swagger, rag-tag appearance, drunk demeanor and alcoholic aroma, was making a sober promise to the orphan. And Zeke was reassured, deep in his young heart.
Anamaria stood up. She just finished tucking the two children into the makeshift cots that she had make from the drawers in Jack's cabin. He reclined at his desk, studying a few maps by lantern light.
The scene suddenly struck Anamaria as too domestic. She shifted uneasily, then looked at Jack. "Jack?" She asked him quietly.
"Cap'n," he muttered, before saying more loudly, "Aye?"
"I was thinkin'." she was interrupted by the scraping of Jack's chair. He stood up suddenly, hands in front of him.
"No more slaps, okay, luv?" He pleaded. "I ain't done nothin' to ye" he quickly shoved any naughty thoughts aside "but commandeer ye boat-- and ye already got me for that one."
Anamaria grinned, a bit of evil in her face. "Aye, but only if I get me boat soon."
Jack nodded hurriedly. "Aye, as soon as we reach Port Royal, I'll take ye shoppin'."
Anamaria cocked an eyebrow. "Port Royal? The Prude of the Caribbean? The home of the English Royal Navy? And we be goin' there why? And how far off are we?"
He cocked a dark eyebrow in reply. "Why, what's ye hurry, luv? Can't stand the attraction anymore, and scared ye gonna throw yeself at me beautiful body?"
His tone was teasing, but staring into his deep chocolate eyes, Anamaria wasn't so sure he wasn't serious.
Well, she reflected, any female between the ages of 2 to 82 would love Jack, so why would I be an exception? Know lesbians had changed orientations in his presence. It was disgusting the lack of will her gender showed.
Which was why she would fight every attraction she felt. Besides, she had a better reason yet. Don't think of it, don't think of it.
She almost closed her eyes in concentration. Instead, she retorted, "Any pirate ship be not a safe place for kids. I was wrong about the Pearl, and I want Zeke and Áda gone. I can take care o' 'em meself, with me share o' the booty and me boat."
Her gray eyes softened, and Jack felt himself sinking into them. "Jack, I want them safe."
Jack shook himself. "Sounds reasonable. As for why we going to Royal, why, we goin' for a visit. 'Sides, the Pearl needs repairs anyways, and there's Puerta Cara a hop and a skip away. They drop me off, we peruse the selection, I poke me head in at the Turner place, and ye be off in ye boat, and I get picked up by me Pearl, repaired of ugly holes."
He grinned, his gold teeth glittering in the dim light. "What say ye?"
Anamaria grinned back. "Aye, Cap'n." In that moment, a spark passed, and Anamaria froze, her smirk pasted on her lovely face. It faded and before Jack could see the look of alarm take its place, Anamaria was out of the cabin and heading into the hold.
"Damn female." Jack muttered. " 'Fraid 'o bein' a woman. And in me company, too. No woman turns down Cap'n Jack Sparrow." Then he reflected a moment. "No sane woman. And she might not be sane- only female pirate, but still." He laid out on his bed, still thinking.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ "Hello!"
They soon arrived at a secluded beach. It was a fair distance from the town of Port Royal. Jack stood with Anamaria at his side. Zeke's hand was tight in his grasp, while Anamaria held Áda in his arms.
His gut tightened with the sight of the Pearl sailing away, but he trusted Gibbs. Trusted Gibbs, his first mate. Gibbs would never act like Barbossa, never. So why did Jack feel so sick at heart?
'Cause it be me ship. He thought. Me own lovely Pearl.
"C'mon." He said, tugging Zeke. "Let's go find boats."
Zeke chuckled, and skipped ahead.
"Oh, no, me boy. Say here with Jack, I mean, your Cap'n, alright?" Jack tottered/swaggered after Zeke quickly, grabbing his hand again.
Zeke sulked. "All right." He sighed, suffering evident in his voice. They turned away from the ocean. Only half a mile above the beach was a large house, a house that declared that its owners were imminently wealthy and of highest class.
Anamaria was certain of its owners: William Turner and Elizabeth soon-to-be if not already-Turner.
Will, once his escapades with pirates had ended, began to woo his lady love (whose abduction was the reason for the escapades). He once again picked up his craft, blacksmithing, and his particular talent, the crafting of swords. Soon Mr. Brown passed away, something with too much alcohol in his kidneys, and Will took over the shop. His blades became so popular, and so sought after, even the crew of the Pearl had heard of them on their travels. Consequently, the whelp became so wealthy that Elizabeth's father, the Governor of Port Royal, no longer had to worry about Elizabeth marrying "beneath her class."
What a load of horseshit. Anamaria thought. She did not hold with the theory of class systems. She remembered the day that Jack got the message that Will and Elizabeth were to marry. They had been at port, north of Royal. Will had sent the message with a friend, who also bore a present for Jack. "A thank you token", Will had called it. Also, "one of my finest creations for one of the finest people I know." Jack had laughed at that line, until he opened the package. It was the finest sword Anamaria, and Jack, had ever seen. Well balanced, light, sturdy, and it had yet to rust or loose its edge after all Jack had put it through. In return, Jack had sent them a cask of the best rum to be found, and cried at its departure.
Jack hadn't seen them since the day they saved him from the noose (the second time at Port Royal), almost three years previous.
It was time for a visit.
"I'll go first, luv." Jack said to Anamaria, once the boat had been anchored and everyone rowed ashore. "I'll be making sure no Commodores are lying about, eh?"
He nodded sagely and swaggered up the beach. Anamaria rolled her eyes, picked up a wet and sandy Áda, called to Zeke, and followed the Captain.
She watched the Captain knock on the front door. "Hullo?" He called out.
Anamaria rolled her eyes. Oh, very subtle, Jack.
The door opened, and a maid, eyes wide, peered out. "May I help ye, sir?" She questioned softly.
"Aye. Does a Mr. William Turner abide at this here residence?"
"Yes, sir." The maid began to slowly eyeball Jack.
"Is he in residence at this current time?" Jack queried, smiling broadly.
"Yes, sir, he is. Do ye have a card I may take?" The maid opened the door fully.
"Why, no, luv. I'll just show meself in." And with that, Jack pushed past the girl and into the house.
Anamaria rushed up behind him dragging Zeke behind her. Apologizing to the shocked maid, she too walked through the door.
The maid huffed and made for the kitchens. Jack was too busy peering into doors to notice. Anamaria stood in shock, afraid to touch anything. All the items reeked of expense and impeccable taste. She hated to admit it, but one of the things that intimidated her was extreme wealth.
Áda squirmed in her arms, so Anamaria put her down, and slowly turned around, looking at everything-- to the gilded wallpaper to the exquisite figures on the mantel. She was able to ignore Jack's muttering and Zeke's opening and slamming of doors, but she was shook from her reverie by Áda gnawing on the leg of an expensive looking chair.
"Encantada, no!" Anamaria cried, and picked her up.
Elizabeth was disturbed from her re-organization of the upstairs salon by a series of slams coming from downstairs. Curious as to what the matter would be, but keeping in mind the incident from a year ago, she cautiously picked up a fire poker and preceded to the stairwell. She observed a mulatto woman, garbed in a tattered gray hat and a ragged shirt over another, and loose striped pants tucked into worn boots, chase after a lively curly haired Spanish-looking toddler. She was armed with an old sword on one hip and a piston on the other. Both were held in place by a multi-colored sash and belt. Her blue-black hair, though held away from her face by a faded handkerchief visible from underneath the hat, hung free.
A boy ran back and forth, opening and slamming doors. He wasn't alone in his search, for a man, wearing a worn leather tri-corn hat and sporting a variety of beads in his dreadlocks--
Dreadlocks--
Worn leather tri-corn hat--
"Jack!?" Elizabeth screeched, and ran down the stairwell.
Jack looked up from peering into a dark room, and his ringed hand immediately went to his pistol. However, he was unable to move further before a young noblewoman tackled him.
They both fell on the floor.
Elizabeth was the first to recover. Brushing a curl out of her face, she sat up regally and announced, "Captain Jack Sparrow, how nice it is to have the pleasure of your company again." Then her face broke into a grin. "How've you been?"
Jack answered with a grin. "Christ, If'n I knew ye would be so glad to see me, I would've had me a more proper greeting. Ye been lusting after me these whole years by?" He turned to Anamaria, who now held Áda in her arms and was watching the scene. "I told ye no woman could resist me lovely self." He turned back to Elizabeth. "What, ye man not be satisfying ye no more?"
Elizabeth turned red. "No, Will is down at the shop. I'm sure he'll be up soon, I know he would like to see you again." Then she looked at Anamaria suddenly.
"Anamaria?" She said in surprise.
Anamaria inclined her head, and smiled slightly. "Aye, Elizabeth, ye daft lass?"
Elizabeth laughed out loud, and scrambled to her feet. "Oh, it's good to see you again. I've never had anyone so roundly question my abilities as you did."
Anamaria laughed in return. "And I've never been so amazing by such crazy ideas almost working." She reflected silently, I do have to respect her. She was such a stubborn, determined young woman. Just like me.
Elizabeth wrinkled in nose in amusement, then her attention was drawn to the child in Anamaria's arms.
"Achoo!" Áda sneezed. She then snuffled, and snuggled into Anamaria's embrace, promptly falling asleep.
Anamaria looked up to meet Elizabeth's kindly questioning gaze.
"Oh, she be not mine. I mean, she be mine, but not of me blood." Anamaria growled in frustration. "What I mean is, I found her and Zeke o'er there." with a nod of her head at the boy running up and down the hallway. "at Tortuga, and I kinda adopted 'em."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Children? In Tortuga? And now, on the Pearl?" Anamaria shrugged uneasily. "That were me first reaction, in Tortuga. We 'ad 'em on the Pearl for a bit, and one scuffle later, I decided I needed me boat now, and I be goin' back to me pearl divin'."
Elizabeth's eyes were wide at the idea of the children present during a pirate battle.
"Well," She murmured, "Thank goodness they're safe now." She peered at Áda. "And who is this, precisely?"
Anamaria shifted her sleeping bundle towards Elizabeth. "Ye can take 'er, if ye want." Elizabeth nodded eagerly and carefully picked Áda from Anamaria's arms.
"That," Anamaria indicated with her head, sitting elegantly down into one of Elizabeth's fancy chairs, "is Encantada, Áda for short. As far as I can tell, 'e's daughter to some Spaniard, from 'er coloring. About 1 year old, I would say. Lively gel, tad mischievous."
Jack snorted. "Damn near pulls me beard off, the whelp does." He put in, rubbing the injured party.
Anamaria grinned. "Over there, investigatin' all ye lovely drawers, is Zeke. 'E says 'e's eight, but I'd place 'em closer to seven. He looks Scottish, talks like an Irishman, and all with a pirate accent. He learns everything around 'em, and curses like a sailor already."
Elizabeth heard a maid yelp, and a boy in reply screech, "Skittah*!" and scramble down the hall to where they sat.
Anamaria grimaced. " 'E swears in several languages." She finished. The boy, a freckled redhead, clambered onto the couch besides Jack and immediately mimicked Jack's wobbly pose. Elizabeth laughed merrily. "You've put together quite the family, Anamaria." She chuckled.
Anamaria had to smile back. "I just got lucky." She said. "Or, as Jack says--"
"Captain, luv, Captain Jack Sparrow!" Jack muttered underneath his breath.
"--I was just really unlucky."
"Well," Elizabeth said, suddenly standing up. "I'll show you to your rooms." Anamaria looked t her, alarmed.
"Oh, really, that's quite--" she tried to say.
"Quite necessary. If you are to visit with us properly, you can't be running up and down the beach. Is the Pearl even still in the harbor? I didn't think so. So I insist. Come upstairs. You too, Cap'n." She turned towards Jack, who was examining the silver candlesticks closely. "Alright, luv, but don't go expectin' too much civilization o' me now," He warned, then swaggered towards the stairs.
Anamaria rolled her eyes at Elizabeth, while Elizabeth covered her mouth to laugh silently. Elizabeth then turned and led Anamaria up the stairs, while the latter dragged two children after her.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ More Surprises
Anamaria stood in awe in her room. She hadn't seen a room like this since.her childhood. It was elegant. Oozing with antiquities, tastefully chosen and carefully placed. Some French style, Anamaria thought. But best of all. in the room next to it, connected by an adjoining door, was a bathing room.
Most importantly, there was a bathtub. And it was half-full with steaming hot water. She hadn't had a bath- a hot one- in a long time. The maid tapped on the door behind her.
"Miss?" She said in a soft voice. "You do want a bath, correct?"
Anamaria nodded, and asked, "Certainly. Can I get me things, before I take it?"
The maid looked confused. "But I brought you things to wear. They're in on the bed."
Anamaria shook her head. "Oh, I don't be wantin' a dress."
The maid looked distressed. "You can't be wearing that to the banquet tonight!" She cried.
Anamaria narrowed her eyes. "Banquet? Me? Tonight?"
The maid nodded, her face frightened. Anamaria made a sound of disgust and stalked out of the room to look for Elizabeth.
"Miss Turner!" Anamaria bellowed, stomping through the upstairs east wing. She paused for a moment to admire the afternoon sun shining through the tall windows, then turned to continue her search. She almost knocked Elizabeth down.
"Please, Anamaria," Elizabeth's voice was soft, but steel. Anamaria approved of it. "Call me Elizabeth."
Anamaria inclined her head to signal her acquiesce, and replied, "Then call me Ria. It's less of a mouthful, and I be used to it 'cause that's what the kids call me."
Then she barreled forward with what she had to say. "I can't be going to no banquet, especially in a dress. I don't know what possessed you, but truly-"
Elizabeth interrupted. "It's the night before our wedding."
Anamaria's jaw dropped. "Oh. That changes things."
Elizabeth smiled slightly. "Aye. I wanted you and Jack to be there to celebrate. Besides, I sort of wanted you to be in the wedding party."
Anamaria raised her eye brows. "Me? In a wedding party? In a noble's wedding party?"
Elizabeth's smiled widened. "Well, yes. I know you can behave yourself-if given the proper motivation and opportunity-and I like to think of you as a friend. A true friend. You are certainly one of the few I can be myself around, and the only female. The rest of the girls in the party are political connections of my father, and empty-headed ninnies at that. Besides, my maid of honor quit when she heard-- well, she's gone. You can take her place. You're just her build, and I still have the dress. Bedsides, you'd bring some flavor, and I desperately need that." She paused. "The children can easily be taken care of by the maids." She smirked evilly. "It will give them a taste of what's to come." The smile disappeared and she tilted her head at the smaller, darker woman. "Please?"
Anamaria grinned, and said, "And what sort of dress do I be in tonight?"
Elizabeth grinned back happily. "Whatever sort you want. I have several ideas-the maid should have already brought them to your room." She paused. "I hope they fit. They were supposed to be for my engagement party, but I can't wear three dresses to one party." She shook her head. "As you're a tad bit smaller than I, we might have to alter the dress we pick."
Anamaria grabbed her hand and dragged Elizabeth back to her room. "C'mon, girly, I 'ave no time for this-let's get me presentable."
Elizabeth laughed, and the happy sound echoed throughout the hallway.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ Getting Ready
Elizabeth had Anamaria's things brought to an adjoining room of Elizabeth's so that the two could help each other, (although it would be mostly Elizabeth and her maids assisting Anamaria) in getting ready. The two chatted through the bath about their respective day-to-day lives, and about their experiences with children. (Elizabeth had watched children with their housekeeper before she came to Port Royal; Anamaria had none before Zeke and Áda.)
Anamaria was slightly nervous about the dress Elizabeth ended up selecting for her. The choices were a rather prim white ensemble, a rather daring jade green one, or this blood red outfit. The neckline was square, and the bodice tight, with seams edged in tiny rubies going down each side of her chest. The sleeves were off the shoulder, gathered at the elbow, then allowed to follow freely, bell-like, past her hands. They hid a particularly nasty and curious scar decorating her right wrist. The skirt was full, but not frilly. Straight lines of tiny rubies continued down the skirt. As the dress was a bit long, Anamaria had to compensate by wearing higher shoes than what Elizabeth would normally wear. Thankfully, she quickly picked up the knack of wearing the heeled slippers, and amused the maids, (whom she learned were Constance and Patience) and Elizabeth for several minutes by prancing about in them, "practicing".
But, to her severe disgust, Anamaria had to wear a corset. Elizabeth tried to console her by telling her that Patience, who was currently digging her foot deeper into Anamaria's spine to get "a better grip", was tying her corset no where near as tight as Elizabeth's had been when she had fainted and fallen off the battlement walls in the incident that began the adventure three years ago.
This failed to console Anamaria.
Anamaria watched Constance assist Elizabeth into a dress that was pastel blue, a light sky-like color that faded to a deeper purple at the bottom of the dress. Her sleeves were tight and short about her shoulders, and small pearls were embroidered in a variety of patterns about the bodice.
Constance and Patience cooed over each of the ladies. Anamaria made a self- deprecating face to hide her torn emotions-- disgust and amusement.
Elizabeth directing in the arranging of the hair-hers was bound up, with a few strategically placed curls let loose, while Anamaria's was curled, teased, and ended up in a simple braid with a few loose strands about the face.
"Come," Elizabeth announced, while Anamaria was still staring at the mirror, trying to figure out where the only lady pirate to sail the seven seas went, "We shall see what the men have done before the banquet starts."
Will had been responsible for Jack, and obviously it was a struggle for power. From the neck down, Jack had all the appearance of a proper English gentlemen about to grace a banquet-in fact, Anamaria had to admit that Jack cut a rather dashing figure, for his person was lean and muscular from the days at sea, and his plain black and white clothing flattered him. However, Jack had refused to relinquish either his dreadlocks or his bandanna, and rings still graced each of his fingers. The sword was still buckled to one hip (although Anamaria doubted that Will put up an argument over that, as he was the creator of the magnificent weapon, and any nobleman would be proud to wear it) and a pistol still rode on the other. His disturbing brown eyes were still dramatically outlined in kohl- although Anamaria noticed it was fresh- but his bronzed skin was several shades lighter than it had been this morning, suggesting a bath.
Will, standing beside him, looked exhausted but handsome. He was the epitome of English elegance- although his brown eyes held an independent spark that might have been unnerving to someone else. To Anamaria, it was reassuring. Bootstrap's son still carried on his father's spirit. He said to Elizabeth, "He somehow agreed, between the argument about the vest and the argument about his hair. Although I don't know what your father will say when he hears the reaction of the people attending."
Elizabeth gave an unladylike snort. "Father will deal. Who else would he want to do it? Norrington?"
Will shrugged. "Well, I'm just giving fair warning."
Anamaria looked from Will, to Elizabeth, and back again. "Who's agreed? To what?"
Will said, with a look of pleasure on his face, "Jack's agreed to be my best man."
Anamaria raised her eyebrows, and said softly, "Oh, really?" quite politely, and looked at Jack. He beamed at her, a frightening thing of white and gold. "Aye, luv. Ain't life grand?"
Will and Elizabeth looked at each other, shared a secret, smile happily, and Anamaria rolled her eyes.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ At a Civilized Gathering
"I hardly recognize me own, luv, in that outrageous getup," Jack murmured in her ear as they twirled around the ballroom.
"I can hardly recognize the infamous pirate Captain Jack Sparrow in new clothes waltzing in a nobleman's ballroom," Anamaria retorted, careful to keep her voice low. It was obvious enough "Jackson Finch and his lovely wife Maria" were not exactly cut of nobility's cloth, but it didn't do to flaunt the fact. Luckily, not many of the nobility remembered the embarrassing hanging attempted last spring, and those that did wisely kept quiet after the announcement of the "English privateer" who would act as William Turner's best man. No one, especially, dared contract Commodore James Norrington, who publicly concurred with Will's introduction.
How Mr. Turner got the Commodore to do that, Anamaria would never know.
The dinner was an amazing success. The food was excellent, the drink intoxicating and the music subtle but good. Even the atmosphere was heady. It was obvious to Anamaria that a number of couples were forming on this romantic summer night-it seemed that love might be contagious. As she looked upon her dancing partner, she dearly hoped not.
Jack snorted loudly, drawing a few startled glances in his direction. He merely grinned at them briefly before turning back to his "wife."
"I, at least, can still act the pirate in this vile outfit." He replied.
"I can too be a pirate, even if I am in a corset," Anamaria said, offended.
"Aye, luv?" He said, leaning closer. "Let's see it."
They snuck off to the upstairs hallway. Anamaria retrieved her sword from her room, and the duel began.
They were up and down the servants' hall in exchanging a series of chops designed to use a great deal of power to exhaust the opponent early. However, as both were experienced pirates, the ploy didn't work.
"Now, luv, let's see your footwork," Jack said with a grin, crossing one foot to the left. Anamaria quickly responded with a left sidestep of her own. Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What shoes ye been wearing, luv?" He said, as he lunged.
"Heels," Anamaria replied sweetly as she blocked his thrust and parried.
"It's simple," she elaborated as she began a series of chops, this time, low and on either side in a varying pattern. "If one stays forward, on one's toes, one can balance better, and the clunky heels do not become so much of an issue."
"Ahh," Jack said in an understanding tone, and used his block to shove Anamaria backwards.
She went down, rolled to her knees, and growled. While Jack paused, examining in his mind the implications of Anamaria on her knees in front of him, albeit four feet away, the object of his thought whipped off her shoes and threw them at him.
He grunted as one hit his diaphragm. The other missed his head by inches.
Anamaria got up to begin another charge. Then they heard the sounds of two people making their way up the back stairwell. They were the sounds of two people becoming more and more, um, _involved_ with each other, complete with murmurs and endearments. To Anamaria, it sounded like two lovers on an average romantic night. Jack, however, recognized it as two people about to engage in passionate sex. Curious, but not dumb, he rushed Anamaria into the nearest doorway of the new hall, and they both peeked outside the door.
The couple moved closer, but their faces were not visible in the darkened hallway.
Jack looked down at Anamaria, who was watching the scene with an unreadable expression on her face.
Anamaria replied frantically, "Jack! They are comin' this way!"
Jack grabbed her and they dashed to the nearest hiding spot, behind another door, which led to a familiar bathroom, keeping the door slightly ajar in order to watch for the opportune moment.
"Ohmigod." Anamaria swallowed a chuckle. "It's Liz and Will!"
Jack grimaced, then grinned. "Guessing he be not an eunuch then, huh?"
Anamaria desperately smothered her laughter before awareness of her surroundings sobered her instantly. She was on her knees, pressed rather intimately into Jack's lap, and his upper body curled around her. She felt him still, and become aware of their position as well.
His lips curled. "Ah, luv, finally got me where you want me?"
Anamaria felt breathless, then suddenly frustrated. She leapt up, the top of her head connecting with Jack's chin. His head snapped back, and he grabbed his injured area.
"Christ, luv, assault was not the answer I was hopin' for!" He whispered furiously. He didn't get an answer. Anamaria stalked out the other door, and then whirled. "This be my room, Captain Jack Sparrow, so git out- now!" She ordered as quietly as possible.
"Uh uh, luv, it be not nice to send away a lover without the proper goodbye." Jack leaned forward, in a drunken manner as always, but he could see in Anamaria's wide grey eyes she wasn't fooled.
"We're not lovers!" She whispered frantically.
"Correction, luv," he held a finger to her lips. "We've not consummated our passion, like Will and Liz over there yet." Then he bent his rule and replaced his finger with his lips.
Sorry. Moving on.
This is un-beta-ed, and still under massive inspiration. So things are still being worked out. Tell me if stuff don't make sense.
This is the second version, hopefully it flows better. It's also been condensed, FYI.
Pairings: JackAna, WillLiz.
I'm a traditionalist, sorry.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ Children? In Tortuga?
Anamaria sat in the tavern, looking bored. Captain Jack Sparrow was well on his way to getting rip-roaring drunk on his favorite drink, rum, while the rest of his crew closely followed suit, funded by their latest booty. The men were failing to amuse her with their usual antics of bellowing ballads and rowdy stories, so she turned her attentions out the door, to the streets of Tortuga.
As a pirate's port, it certainly served its purpose. It got pirates drunk and- the male ones- laid. 'Twas really all that mattered-- to the male pirates. Plenty of cheap whores to be found. Anamaria firmly turned her bitter musings towards the loud row being held out on the street. A fat, rolly-polly (thus successful) whore was screaming at the top of her lungs at two dwarf-like midgets-- no, not midgets. Children? In Tortuga? Unheard of. There weren't children here. Prostitutes never actually bore out any of their pregnancies: they would lose business definitely for about nine months, and the reputation would go around of child-bearing, and then the customers would be uneasy. Needless to say, abortion was the method of choice in Tortuga.
Her curiosity aroused, Anamaria went to investigate.
"Ye horrid brats!" The painted prostitute screeched, and slurred at the same time. She was tipsy- not drunk, but tipsy. "I be tire o' ye ruinin' me business! Out! Out I say! Begone! I refuse te watch ye spawn o' Satan anymore!"
The whore began flailing about, to the amusement of the patrons and fellow whores behind her, in an attempt to hit the two small children. As her vision was alcohol impaired, all of her blows missed. Anamaria's eyes narrowed anyway.
Anamaria noted one whore, a slightly-built blonde dressed in various shades of green, with a pained look on her face. She was probably responsible for whatever good these children ever had.
The elder of the two children, a flame-haired boy, about 6 or 7 Anamaria would estimate, grabbed the smaller child, a Hispanic-looking girl about 2, into his grubby arms, in an attempt to shield her.
"But, mum." He weakly protested. "Me sis mean no harm."
"That I be not sure of! The bitch attacked me customer! Bit 'em on the leg, 'e did!"
The young boy countered, "But 'e just a baby! And 'e kicked 'er!"
The whore leaned down into his face and screamed, "Begone, miscreant! I 'ave no more to do with you!"
And with that, she stomped through the whorehouse door, and slammed it shut.
Her audience, fed from the whorehouse and the street, began to slowly disperse, some with drunken backwards glances toward the dismal pair left in the street.
Anamaria watched the boy turn about slowly in a circle, looking at the groups of drunks watching the children curiously, and most with unhealthy interest.
The boy called out, "Do anyone need a worker? I ca' work real hard, and I ca' do anythin'!" Desperation tinged his voice.
Anamaria felt a tightening in her chest, and quickly walked over to the two. Being one of the only sober people in the street meant she easily beat all of the drunks who attempted to totter towards the easy booty of the two innocent children.
"It just so happens we be short a cabin boy on me ship." She said, in a deep and serious tone. "D'ya think ye could handle that?"
The boy nodded enthusiastically, his shock of red hair falling over his eyes. "Aye, lady. That I could!"
"Good." Anamaria barked. "Then follow me, youngster." And with that, she set off. Her normal walk was a relatively brisk pace, and soon she unknowingly left the youngster in the dust.
The boy looked down at his now-sleeping burden, and at the quickly disappearing woman pirate.
"Lady! I be coming!" He announced determinedly.
Anamaria turned on her heel, and saw the boy attempt to drag the sleeping girl by the arms in order to catch up with herself. Luckily, the sleeper took no notice of this abuse upon her person and continued snoring delicately.
Anamaria shook her head, and walked back to the pair. "'ere," she motioned with her hands, and picked the sleeping child up. "I'll take 'er." The boy looked up at her with wide, blue eyes, filled with an emotion Anamaria never thought to see in a child's eyes- fear.
"Never ye mind, boy, I won't harm ye --sister." She stumbled, as the children were obviously not related by blood, but that was the only title she could think of to reassure the boy.
The boy relaxed, sighing. His little body seemed to sag under this release of stress. Anamaria panicked, thinking that he was going to collapse, and scooped him up with her free arm.
Grunting a bit, she felt him sag against her, and mumble, "I can too walk meself."
Anamaria bit back a chuckle, and whispered, "But it be quicker this way, lad."
She felt the lad nod as she strolled back to the Black Pearl, laden with two new burdens.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ Kiddos on Board the Black Pearl
She tip-toed as quietly as she could onto the ship, trying not to alert the watchman, who just happened to be Gibbs, the first mate.
He cocked an eyebrow at her two burdens. "Whatcha be takin' there, lass?"
From his angle, it looked like two sacks of grain garbed in strangely colored sacks. Anamaria looked about. "The kids were kicked outta a whorehouse. They gots ta be the only ones on Tortuga. Kiddos, I mean. Boy and girl. They can only be safer 'ere. Just don't tell Jack- 'e'd pitch a royal fit."
Gibbs shifted uneasily. "It be bad luck for a woman to be aboard-- even ye, competent though ye be. A girl-child, I dunno."
"Please, Gibbs."Anamaria pleaded, perhaps for the first time in her life, moved by these two children asleep in her arms. "They got nowhere else te go."
Gibbs turned his back to her. "Fine. But it's up to ye to convince the rest of who find out." Anamaria released a sigh of relief. "Good. I'll be 'idin' em in the 'old."
It all went quietly for three days. Anamaria always managed to be in the hold whenever a crew member happened on the children, whom she had stashed in a cubbyhole behind the half-empty boxes of the Black Pearls' latest booty. She took them out on deck in the moonlight, in an attempt to let them see the sea, and get some fresh air. She only did so when she was certain that the night watchmen were friendly, and that Jack was sleeping. She had managed to convince most of the crew with a bit of threatening, and some with pleading, such a rare event that none of the crew had ever seen it. The topper for all was the children's sob-story of the scary prostitute. The girl's huge green eyes didn't hurt.
The boy's attempts to do menial tasks certainly added to the acceptance the crew adapted towards the two. They observed him tackle such chores as unknotting rope and helping Anamaria clean the galley, whose duty she had volunteered for so that she could watch the kids at all times. Jean, the galley cook, took to the kids immediately, and spoiled them rotten at every opportunity.
The crew adopted an attitude of uncle-ness, as much as this can be adopted in three days, towards the children: playing with them during their free time, showing the boy how to tie knots, assisting the girl in tottering about like a drunken pirate, teaching her simple swear words, protecting either from any sort of threat- from a crazed rat to a crazed Captain. They even helped Anamaria with the girl's diapers- sneaking her water, finding more bits of cloth, throwing the used ones discreetly overboard.
An oft-heard comment was, "Me never knew a kiddie before- I left before me kid sister/brother/son/daughter/obscure relative grew up very much."
The most important thing, though, was they all agreed to hide the kids' existence from Jack.
It wasn't that Captain Jack Sparrow hated kids and would eat them for breakfast, alive and stewed in their own bodily fluids. It was that Captain Jack Sparrow had had a bad experience with the cabin boy, a youngster of 10. The chubby spoiled boy had the nerve to stowaway on ship for an adventure, and then, when discovered, cursed the crew for not being as bloodthirsty as he thought they would be. When he realized that being bloodthirsty pirates meant that they would have killed him, he turned into a blubbering idiot and begged for his life. This was when Jack made his fatal mistake-- he let the kid stay, made him a cabin boy. At the soonest port the kid had turned them into the authorities, and it had only been Jack's amazing luck and skill that got the entire crew out of port alive. Afterwards, Jack roundly cursed all children under the age of 15, (how he came at that number, no one knew), and threatened to throw the next child aboard his ship to Davy Jones. He was so angry, the crew took him at his word.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ Name Games
Anamaria's biggest hurdle was figuring out names for the kids. It began the first morning of the stowaway's adventure, when she woke them up for breakfast.
"'Ey, boy. 'Ere's breakfast. What's ye name, anyway? I can't keep calling ye "boy" all the time." She gave each of them a roll of cornbread and a jug of water. The little girl immediately smashed the roll to bits, giggled, and stuffed each of the bits methodically in her mouth. She giggled like a drunkard the entire time, muttering, "Bre, bre.yum!"
Anamaria shook her head and crouched down to join them.
The boy shrugged. "I dunno. The 'ores usually called me "Idiot" o' "Fool" o' "Whelp.""
Anamaria snorted, remembering another who went by the name of "Whelp". He was nothing like the boy before her. In fact, Will was probably a man now, married, maybe even with a whelp of his own on the way.
She examined the kid. "Well, you're just gonna have to pick a name, then. And one for the girl, too. I refuse to call ye 'Whelp.' Got it?"
The boy nodded eagerly, his mouth stuffed with cornbread.
He swallowed. "Can I be Jack? Like the Cap'n?"
Anamaria rolled her eyes. For a kid who should be terrified of the guy, the boy was beginning to show the signs of severe hero worship from afar. By Sparrow's reputation alone. What was she going to do when the kid actually met him?
"Not a good idea, lad. Two people with the same name can be a bit confusing."
He sat, quietly. Anamaria could feel the powers of concentration he summoned.
"Tis ok, kid. Think about it a bit. I gots to go do me duties now. I'll be back in a bit." She stood up with a deep breath.
He nodded, then looked up at her suddenly. "Wot's ye name?"
Anamaria smiled. "Anamaria Corsair."
He muttered to himself. "An-na-ma-ma-ria Cor-sa-air"
Her smile turned to a frown. She didn't want to make life difficult for the kid.
She knelt again. "Just call me "Ria"."
He grinned, a happy beam of sunshine that left Anamaria a bit breathless. "Ok, Ria."
Anamaria turned and walked up the stairs, reflecting on what she had gotten into.
That night, when Anamaria was sneaking the kids a piece of fish and some more water, she ran into her Captain.
"Why, Cap'n, lovely night, isn't it?" Her heart pounded. She knew, despite the swaying of Jack Sparrow's lean body, and drunken tottering, that he was often in possession of his full facilities, even if he didn't like it.
He leaned forward, towards her, and his breath reeked of rum. "Aye, luv, ain't it? Not as lovely as me Pearl, but close."
He wheeled, a bottle of rum in hand, and leaned on the rail. "Freedom is the most beautiful thing in the world." His head turned towards Anamaria. "Honesty comes pretty close, though."
Anamaria gulped softly, then gathered her wits.
"Certainly, Cap'n, as does purity, charity, and love of justice." She retorted. She then turned to walk down the stairs.
"Wot's with the food, luv?" Jack's voice questioned softly.
"Me dinner. I meant to dine under the stars, but I find the company on deck unsavory." Anamaria replied, and walked down the stairs as quickly as she could without making it look like a retreat.
The boy announced when he saw her, "I decided me name!"
"Oh?" murmured Anamaria, and plopped down on the floorboards beside him. "And it be."
"Capt'n!"
Anamaria sighed.
"Boy, that' s a title, not a name." She racked her mind for suggestions, then studied the boy bouncing on his rear next to her knee.
"'Ow about Zeke?" She asked him.
"Zeke?" he tilted his head up at her. "I like it. Wot's it from?"
Anamaria looked at him, and didn't see him. "It was me father's name." She shook herself suddenly. "And did ye think of a girl's name yet?"
The boy-- Zeke, now-- shook his head. "Nope."
Anamaria smiled slightly. "I'll ask me crew."
The crew had more than enough suggestions. "Anna." and "Maria" were two she immediately discarded. "Purity." "Chastity". She didn't want a future pirate- a very likely possibility, given the girl's current situation-- burdened with a fancy name. Much less one that would end up being quite the opposite of the girl's actual behavior. Anamaria didn't approve of ironic names for children.
"Goldie." God, the men couldn't get their mind off of treasure, could they?
"Pearl." Same, with the added disadvantage of it already being the ship's name.
"Rum." Never.
Gibbs personally favored, "Marin." It meant ocean in some foreign tongue, but Anamaria didn't want a name that didn't reflect the girl's heritage. And from the girl's looks, she was of Spanish descent, not Irish.
It was Cotton's parrot who actually came up with the name. "Awk!" It squawked. "Mi amor de Espana, Ella es muy encantada."
Encantada. Enchanting. Anamaria examined the girl in her mind. Sunny disposition, curly black- as-sin hair, and lively green eyes. Enchanting.
Encantada.
Áda for short.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ The Bursting of the Bubble
Anamaria was happily reflecting on her current success with life when she heard the boom of cannons, and cursing on deck.
She looked wildly about from her spot on the poop deck, and saw what one would assume to be a (relatively) friendly pirate ship on the starboard side, approaching fast. However, her theory was blow to pieces when the ship fired on the Black Pearl, again.
Anamaria began to bear her teeth in a happy, bloodthirsty grin, drawing her sword, when she realized a very vital fact: the kid's hidey-hole was located directly where the enemy was firing. With a desperation she didn't know she possessed, Anamaria dropped her sword in a panic and dashed across the deck to the stairs, ignoring the jaw- dropping of her comrades. She jumped down the flight of stairs to where the crates were now smashed to pieces. She screamed in horror.
Zeke stuck his head out from behind a smashed crate of silks. "Ria?" He called.
Anamaria almost collapsed from relief. Then she stiffened. "Where's Áda?" she asked him as she rushed over to the wreckage.
"Right here." Zeke, clever boy, Anamaria thought. At the sound of cannons, he had snuck between two crates, and covered Áda's body with his own. Áda looked at her with large eyes, and gurgled. "Boom!" she chuckled.
"C'mon," she said, and scooped the two of them in her arms similar to their first night. "We're going to hide somewhere else now."
"No boom?' Áda cooed softly as she wound Anamaria's dark hair in her cubby fist.
Anamaria was about to release a dry chuckle when she reached the deck. All holy hell had let loose. The other crew had boarded the Pearl.
Anamaria dashed across the deck, dodging dueling pirates and ducking past flying bullets. She kicked open Jack's cabin, and rushed over to Jack's desk, which was littered with maps and various other papers. She pulled open a large drawer and dumped Zeke into it.
"You're going to hide here, understand?" She ordered him, looking deep into his eyes. His face was grave as he replied, "Aye-aye, mum."
She was about to dump Áda into the drawer with him when the door to the cabin slammed open again. Anamaria whirled and shut the drawer with her foot. She faced a grizzled old pirate, with a leer on his face and a sword in his hand, armed with only a babe on one hip and a pistol, unloaded, still tucked into her belt on the other. Her eyes darted about looking for inspiration when a single shot echoed throughout the cabin, and the pirate slumped to the floor in front of her.
Anamaria thought she heard "Boom!" drooled into her shirt.
Standing behind the pirate was Captain Jack Sparrow. He merely bowed in a tipsy manner and turned drunkenly about to dive back into the fray.
Anamaria narrowed her eyes, and tucked the child into the drawer with her older brother. She then grabbed the fallen pirate's sword, and joined in the fight.
When the deck had finally been cleared of the enemy and of the dead, Anamaria attempted to sneak back into the Captain's cabin while he was still occupied with the task of re-organizing the ship. She was two steps from the door before he managed to slip his exotic, enigmatic self between her and her charges.
Anamaria wanted to bellow her frustration. So she did.
"What, Cap'n?"
He tsk'ed her softly. "Now, now, me luv. Is that how ye talk to someone who saved ye life, as well as the lives of ye children? Not to mention I be your own Captain as well?"
Anamaria snorted. "They be not mine." Then she paused, thought, and shook her head. "Never mind." Then her eyes widened in realization. Panic dawned.
"Cap'n, they won't be no trouble. Just let me keep 'em for the remainder of the trip, then I'll be outta ye hair and both the whelps'll be gone. Honor."
She paused a moment before whipping out her big guns. "Besides, ye still owe me a boat. Give me the boat, I'll take the kiddos off ye hands."
Jack snorted. "Me got nothin' against children."
Anamaria gaped. "But.but.."
Jack shook his head, his various beads and shells on his braids and dreadlocks rattling madly. "Naw, luv, I've changed me mind. Heat o' the moment an' all. Thought ye knew better. Ah, just let the kiddies be for now."
He tilted his head. "I wanna play wid 'em for a bit."
Anamaria felt herself tremble. Since when had she been so possessive of the brats? "That's okay, Cap'n, I'll take 'em outta ye hands right enough."
Jack shook his head. "Naw, I want to see what kiddies so entranced my crew that it boarded on outright mutiny."
Anamaria argued. "Twere'nt mutiny! Just protecting some innocents, 'is all."He voice died as Jack turned suddenly, and tottered into this cabin. Anamaria followed as close behind as she dared.
They came upon the children curled into one ball in the deep drawer that Anamaria had hidden them in. Jack peered into the crate, and Anamaria tried to see what he saw. Two whelps, curled together. One a boy of six, with a blue bandana, courtesy of Gibbs, holding back his bright red hair. His overly large blue striped shirt was rolled at the sleeves and torn indiscriminately. His striped orange pants had a huge hole in the knee of the visible leg. The girl, of dark hair and medium skin, was of some type of Indian or Hispanic origin. Her curly hair was originally in one thick braid, although you could barely tell now. She too was garbed in a large shirt, only the bright green cloth acted like a dress, and hers too was rolled to fit a tad more easily. A rope was tied around her waist, and her purple cloth diaper showed.
Anamaria eyed her Captain nervously, out of the corner of her eye, trying to figure out whether Jack was really drunk, and how much so when Áda suddenly woke up and yanked one of Jack's dangling dreadlocks.
The resulting yell made everyone in the Caribbean jump.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ Discoveries and Oaths
Áda sat on Jack's lap at the head of the table in the galley. Currently her face was smeared with some sort of jam, and dotted with bread crumbs. They had immediately reconciled with Áda's happy little gurgle at Jack's horrified face. Jack was instantly charmed, although he did his best to hide it.
Anamaria tried not to laugh as she looked down at Zeke, who was sitting next to her on the bench. He was looking around warily, his eyes wide with worry, flicking from one uproariously drunk pirate to the next. He disturbed Anamaria's peace of mind. She was one of the few sober ones-- Gibbs, normally in sub-command with her, was pleasantly buzzed, a state he sought often. As so long as one of the responsible pirates remained sober, the rest could party, celebrate the victory and so forth. After all, someone had to make sure the Pearl stayed on course. But it didn't solve her problem-- What was wrong with this kid? He didn't touch his food, and his tiny hands gripped either side of his seat on the bench tightly.
She leaned down. "What's wrong, kiddo?" she murmured quietly. The kid was developing a very touchy ego around his idols-- especially Jack.
He shook his head, his eyes still wide.
Anamaria sat back, reflecting. She had found him at a tavern, where one could usually find all sorts of unsavory characters. A few jerks, several extreme horrible people. All sorts of depravity and craziness on a regular basis. Cruelty, often, too. A horrible thought crossed her mind-- had Zeke been abused? Drunken pirates -- with the exception of a few, notably the crew of the Black Pearl-- cared little for a child, even less if it provided a target for abuse and entertainment. Suddenly, Anamaria grabbed the back of Zeke's shirt and pulled it up. He yelped, and attempted to twist away, but Anamaria's grip remained firm. Her fears were confirmed by the criss-cross of scars and marks across Zeke's back. He had been beaten- and from the variety in the age of the scars, for quite a period of time.
Anamaria's jaw tightened. She grabbed Zeke and hauled him to the deck. So she could freak at him privately.
Once they reached the deck, she spun and crouched so that they were eye to eye. "Why didn't ye tell me?" She demanded of him. "Why didn't ye tell me the drunk bastards took swipes at ye?"
Zeke looked to the ground. "I was scarit." He admitted. "Áda needed someone to protect 'er, and all she had was me. So I had to find somewhere to stay. And you were the only nice one who didn't smell like the bad stuff, so that's why I picked you. And everyone was so nice here, and they didn't hit me like I thought they would when they drank the bad stuff. But I still got scairt." This all came out in a mumbled rush.
Swept with sympathy, Anamaria carefully gathered Zeke in her arms and rocked him. "Oy, boyo, it's ok. We'll just treat that up all nice." Then she held him at arm's length. "I promise ye, at no time will the crew, ever, ever hit or hurt you. I promise."
Zeke peeked at her hopefully. "Nobody ever made me a promise before." Then he paused. "Even the Cap'n? 'Cause he's always drinkin' the bad stuff." He wrinkled his nose. "And he really smells like it-- all the time."
"Even the Cap'n." A gruff voice muttered behind them, and Zeke spun to face Captain Jack Sparrows' stomach. He looked up in alarm. Jack crouched so that he looked Zeke in the eye, releasing Áda to crawl to Anamaria.
Anamaria watched the tableau in awe. Jack carefully grasped Zeke's thin shoulders in a gentle grip with his elegant fingers.
Zeke actually relaxed in the gaze of the unreadable chocolate eyes-- for it was not the gaze of a drunk. It was the gaze of a person who, despite all appearances and smells, was well within control. The Captain of the Black Pearl, for all his rambling swagger, rag-tag appearance, drunk demeanor and alcoholic aroma, was making a sober promise to the orphan. And Zeke was reassured, deep in his young heart.
Anamaria stood up. She just finished tucking the two children into the makeshift cots that she had make from the drawers in Jack's cabin. He reclined at his desk, studying a few maps by lantern light.
The scene suddenly struck Anamaria as too domestic. She shifted uneasily, then looked at Jack. "Jack?" She asked him quietly.
"Cap'n," he muttered, before saying more loudly, "Aye?"
"I was thinkin'." she was interrupted by the scraping of Jack's chair. He stood up suddenly, hands in front of him.
"No more slaps, okay, luv?" He pleaded. "I ain't done nothin' to ye" he quickly shoved any naughty thoughts aside "but commandeer ye boat-- and ye already got me for that one."
Anamaria grinned, a bit of evil in her face. "Aye, but only if I get me boat soon."
Jack nodded hurriedly. "Aye, as soon as we reach Port Royal, I'll take ye shoppin'."
Anamaria cocked an eyebrow. "Port Royal? The Prude of the Caribbean? The home of the English Royal Navy? And we be goin' there why? And how far off are we?"
He cocked a dark eyebrow in reply. "Why, what's ye hurry, luv? Can't stand the attraction anymore, and scared ye gonna throw yeself at me beautiful body?"
His tone was teasing, but staring into his deep chocolate eyes, Anamaria wasn't so sure he wasn't serious.
Well, she reflected, any female between the ages of 2 to 82 would love Jack, so why would I be an exception? Know lesbians had changed orientations in his presence. It was disgusting the lack of will her gender showed.
Which was why she would fight every attraction she felt. Besides, she had a better reason yet. Don't think of it, don't think of it.
She almost closed her eyes in concentration. Instead, she retorted, "Any pirate ship be not a safe place for kids. I was wrong about the Pearl, and I want Zeke and Áda gone. I can take care o' 'em meself, with me share o' the booty and me boat."
Her gray eyes softened, and Jack felt himself sinking into them. "Jack, I want them safe."
Jack shook himself. "Sounds reasonable. As for why we going to Royal, why, we goin' for a visit. 'Sides, the Pearl needs repairs anyways, and there's Puerta Cara a hop and a skip away. They drop me off, we peruse the selection, I poke me head in at the Turner place, and ye be off in ye boat, and I get picked up by me Pearl, repaired of ugly holes."
He grinned, his gold teeth glittering in the dim light. "What say ye?"
Anamaria grinned back. "Aye, Cap'n." In that moment, a spark passed, and Anamaria froze, her smirk pasted on her lovely face. It faded and before Jack could see the look of alarm take its place, Anamaria was out of the cabin and heading into the hold.
"Damn female." Jack muttered. " 'Fraid 'o bein' a woman. And in me company, too. No woman turns down Cap'n Jack Sparrow." Then he reflected a moment. "No sane woman. And she might not be sane- only female pirate, but still." He laid out on his bed, still thinking.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ "Hello!"
They soon arrived at a secluded beach. It was a fair distance from the town of Port Royal. Jack stood with Anamaria at his side. Zeke's hand was tight in his grasp, while Anamaria held Áda in his arms.
His gut tightened with the sight of the Pearl sailing away, but he trusted Gibbs. Trusted Gibbs, his first mate. Gibbs would never act like Barbossa, never. So why did Jack feel so sick at heart?
'Cause it be me ship. He thought. Me own lovely Pearl.
"C'mon." He said, tugging Zeke. "Let's go find boats."
Zeke chuckled, and skipped ahead.
"Oh, no, me boy. Say here with Jack, I mean, your Cap'n, alright?" Jack tottered/swaggered after Zeke quickly, grabbing his hand again.
Zeke sulked. "All right." He sighed, suffering evident in his voice. They turned away from the ocean. Only half a mile above the beach was a large house, a house that declared that its owners were imminently wealthy and of highest class.
Anamaria was certain of its owners: William Turner and Elizabeth soon-to-be if not already-Turner.
Will, once his escapades with pirates had ended, began to woo his lady love (whose abduction was the reason for the escapades). He once again picked up his craft, blacksmithing, and his particular talent, the crafting of swords. Soon Mr. Brown passed away, something with too much alcohol in his kidneys, and Will took over the shop. His blades became so popular, and so sought after, even the crew of the Pearl had heard of them on their travels. Consequently, the whelp became so wealthy that Elizabeth's father, the Governor of Port Royal, no longer had to worry about Elizabeth marrying "beneath her class."
What a load of horseshit. Anamaria thought. She did not hold with the theory of class systems. She remembered the day that Jack got the message that Will and Elizabeth were to marry. They had been at port, north of Royal. Will had sent the message with a friend, who also bore a present for Jack. "A thank you token", Will had called it. Also, "one of my finest creations for one of the finest people I know." Jack had laughed at that line, until he opened the package. It was the finest sword Anamaria, and Jack, had ever seen. Well balanced, light, sturdy, and it had yet to rust or loose its edge after all Jack had put it through. In return, Jack had sent them a cask of the best rum to be found, and cried at its departure.
Jack hadn't seen them since the day they saved him from the noose (the second time at Port Royal), almost three years previous.
It was time for a visit.
"I'll go first, luv." Jack said to Anamaria, once the boat had been anchored and everyone rowed ashore. "I'll be making sure no Commodores are lying about, eh?"
He nodded sagely and swaggered up the beach. Anamaria rolled her eyes, picked up a wet and sandy Áda, called to Zeke, and followed the Captain.
She watched the Captain knock on the front door. "Hullo?" He called out.
Anamaria rolled her eyes. Oh, very subtle, Jack.
The door opened, and a maid, eyes wide, peered out. "May I help ye, sir?" She questioned softly.
"Aye. Does a Mr. William Turner abide at this here residence?"
"Yes, sir." The maid began to slowly eyeball Jack.
"Is he in residence at this current time?" Jack queried, smiling broadly.
"Yes, sir, he is. Do ye have a card I may take?" The maid opened the door fully.
"Why, no, luv. I'll just show meself in." And with that, Jack pushed past the girl and into the house.
Anamaria rushed up behind him dragging Zeke behind her. Apologizing to the shocked maid, she too walked through the door.
The maid huffed and made for the kitchens. Jack was too busy peering into doors to notice. Anamaria stood in shock, afraid to touch anything. All the items reeked of expense and impeccable taste. She hated to admit it, but one of the things that intimidated her was extreme wealth.
Áda squirmed in her arms, so Anamaria put her down, and slowly turned around, looking at everything-- to the gilded wallpaper to the exquisite figures on the mantel. She was able to ignore Jack's muttering and Zeke's opening and slamming of doors, but she was shook from her reverie by Áda gnawing on the leg of an expensive looking chair.
"Encantada, no!" Anamaria cried, and picked her up.
Elizabeth was disturbed from her re-organization of the upstairs salon by a series of slams coming from downstairs. Curious as to what the matter would be, but keeping in mind the incident from a year ago, she cautiously picked up a fire poker and preceded to the stairwell. She observed a mulatto woman, garbed in a tattered gray hat and a ragged shirt over another, and loose striped pants tucked into worn boots, chase after a lively curly haired Spanish-looking toddler. She was armed with an old sword on one hip and a piston on the other. Both were held in place by a multi-colored sash and belt. Her blue-black hair, though held away from her face by a faded handkerchief visible from underneath the hat, hung free.
A boy ran back and forth, opening and slamming doors. He wasn't alone in his search, for a man, wearing a worn leather tri-corn hat and sporting a variety of beads in his dreadlocks--
Dreadlocks--
Worn leather tri-corn hat--
"Jack!?" Elizabeth screeched, and ran down the stairwell.
Jack looked up from peering into a dark room, and his ringed hand immediately went to his pistol. However, he was unable to move further before a young noblewoman tackled him.
They both fell on the floor.
Elizabeth was the first to recover. Brushing a curl out of her face, she sat up regally and announced, "Captain Jack Sparrow, how nice it is to have the pleasure of your company again." Then her face broke into a grin. "How've you been?"
Jack answered with a grin. "Christ, If'n I knew ye would be so glad to see me, I would've had me a more proper greeting. Ye been lusting after me these whole years by?" He turned to Anamaria, who now held Áda in her arms and was watching the scene. "I told ye no woman could resist me lovely self." He turned back to Elizabeth. "What, ye man not be satisfying ye no more?"
Elizabeth turned red. "No, Will is down at the shop. I'm sure he'll be up soon, I know he would like to see you again." Then she looked at Anamaria suddenly.
"Anamaria?" She said in surprise.
Anamaria inclined her head, and smiled slightly. "Aye, Elizabeth, ye daft lass?"
Elizabeth laughed out loud, and scrambled to her feet. "Oh, it's good to see you again. I've never had anyone so roundly question my abilities as you did."
Anamaria laughed in return. "And I've never been so amazing by such crazy ideas almost working." She reflected silently, I do have to respect her. She was such a stubborn, determined young woman. Just like me.
Elizabeth wrinkled in nose in amusement, then her attention was drawn to the child in Anamaria's arms.
"Achoo!" Áda sneezed. She then snuffled, and snuggled into Anamaria's embrace, promptly falling asleep.
Anamaria looked up to meet Elizabeth's kindly questioning gaze.
"Oh, she be not mine. I mean, she be mine, but not of me blood." Anamaria growled in frustration. "What I mean is, I found her and Zeke o'er there." with a nod of her head at the boy running up and down the hallway. "at Tortuga, and I kinda adopted 'em."
Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "Children? In Tortuga? And now, on the Pearl?" Anamaria shrugged uneasily. "That were me first reaction, in Tortuga. We 'ad 'em on the Pearl for a bit, and one scuffle later, I decided I needed me boat now, and I be goin' back to me pearl divin'."
Elizabeth's eyes were wide at the idea of the children present during a pirate battle.
"Well," She murmured, "Thank goodness they're safe now." She peered at Áda. "And who is this, precisely?"
Anamaria shifted her sleeping bundle towards Elizabeth. "Ye can take 'er, if ye want." Elizabeth nodded eagerly and carefully picked Áda from Anamaria's arms.
"That," Anamaria indicated with her head, sitting elegantly down into one of Elizabeth's fancy chairs, "is Encantada, Áda for short. As far as I can tell, 'e's daughter to some Spaniard, from 'er coloring. About 1 year old, I would say. Lively gel, tad mischievous."
Jack snorted. "Damn near pulls me beard off, the whelp does." He put in, rubbing the injured party.
Anamaria grinned. "Over there, investigatin' all ye lovely drawers, is Zeke. 'E says 'e's eight, but I'd place 'em closer to seven. He looks Scottish, talks like an Irishman, and all with a pirate accent. He learns everything around 'em, and curses like a sailor already."
Elizabeth heard a maid yelp, and a boy in reply screech, "Skittah*!" and scramble down the hall to where they sat.
Anamaria grimaced. " 'E swears in several languages." She finished. The boy, a freckled redhead, clambered onto the couch besides Jack and immediately mimicked Jack's wobbly pose. Elizabeth laughed merrily. "You've put together quite the family, Anamaria." She chuckled.
Anamaria had to smile back. "I just got lucky." She said. "Or, as Jack says--"
"Captain, luv, Captain Jack Sparrow!" Jack muttered underneath his breath.
"--I was just really unlucky."
"Well," Elizabeth said, suddenly standing up. "I'll show you to your rooms." Anamaria looked t her, alarmed.
"Oh, really, that's quite--" she tried to say.
"Quite necessary. If you are to visit with us properly, you can't be running up and down the beach. Is the Pearl even still in the harbor? I didn't think so. So I insist. Come upstairs. You too, Cap'n." She turned towards Jack, who was examining the silver candlesticks closely. "Alright, luv, but don't go expectin' too much civilization o' me now," He warned, then swaggered towards the stairs.
Anamaria rolled her eyes at Elizabeth, while Elizabeth covered her mouth to laugh silently. Elizabeth then turned and led Anamaria up the stairs, while the latter dragged two children after her.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ More Surprises
Anamaria stood in awe in her room. She hadn't seen a room like this since.her childhood. It was elegant. Oozing with antiquities, tastefully chosen and carefully placed. Some French style, Anamaria thought. But best of all. in the room next to it, connected by an adjoining door, was a bathing room.
Most importantly, there was a bathtub. And it was half-full with steaming hot water. She hadn't had a bath- a hot one- in a long time. The maid tapped on the door behind her.
"Miss?" She said in a soft voice. "You do want a bath, correct?"
Anamaria nodded, and asked, "Certainly. Can I get me things, before I take it?"
The maid looked confused. "But I brought you things to wear. They're in on the bed."
Anamaria shook her head. "Oh, I don't be wantin' a dress."
The maid looked distressed. "You can't be wearing that to the banquet tonight!" She cried.
Anamaria narrowed her eyes. "Banquet? Me? Tonight?"
The maid nodded, her face frightened. Anamaria made a sound of disgust and stalked out of the room to look for Elizabeth.
"Miss Turner!" Anamaria bellowed, stomping through the upstairs east wing. She paused for a moment to admire the afternoon sun shining through the tall windows, then turned to continue her search. She almost knocked Elizabeth down.
"Please, Anamaria," Elizabeth's voice was soft, but steel. Anamaria approved of it. "Call me Elizabeth."
Anamaria inclined her head to signal her acquiesce, and replied, "Then call me Ria. It's less of a mouthful, and I be used to it 'cause that's what the kids call me."
Then she barreled forward with what she had to say. "I can't be going to no banquet, especially in a dress. I don't know what possessed you, but truly-"
Elizabeth interrupted. "It's the night before our wedding."
Anamaria's jaw dropped. "Oh. That changes things."
Elizabeth smiled slightly. "Aye. I wanted you and Jack to be there to celebrate. Besides, I sort of wanted you to be in the wedding party."
Anamaria raised her eye brows. "Me? In a wedding party? In a noble's wedding party?"
Elizabeth's smiled widened. "Well, yes. I know you can behave yourself-if given the proper motivation and opportunity-and I like to think of you as a friend. A true friend. You are certainly one of the few I can be myself around, and the only female. The rest of the girls in the party are political connections of my father, and empty-headed ninnies at that. Besides, my maid of honor quit when she heard-- well, she's gone. You can take her place. You're just her build, and I still have the dress. Bedsides, you'd bring some flavor, and I desperately need that." She paused. "The children can easily be taken care of by the maids." She smirked evilly. "It will give them a taste of what's to come." The smile disappeared and she tilted her head at the smaller, darker woman. "Please?"
Anamaria grinned, and said, "And what sort of dress do I be in tonight?"
Elizabeth grinned back happily. "Whatever sort you want. I have several ideas-the maid should have already brought them to your room." She paused. "I hope they fit. They were supposed to be for my engagement party, but I can't wear three dresses to one party." She shook her head. "As you're a tad bit smaller than I, we might have to alter the dress we pick."
Anamaria grabbed her hand and dragged Elizabeth back to her room. "C'mon, girly, I 'ave no time for this-let's get me presentable."
Elizabeth laughed, and the happy sound echoed throughout the hallway.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ Getting Ready
Elizabeth had Anamaria's things brought to an adjoining room of Elizabeth's so that the two could help each other, (although it would be mostly Elizabeth and her maids assisting Anamaria) in getting ready. The two chatted through the bath about their respective day-to-day lives, and about their experiences with children. (Elizabeth had watched children with their housekeeper before she came to Port Royal; Anamaria had none before Zeke and Áda.)
Anamaria was slightly nervous about the dress Elizabeth ended up selecting for her. The choices were a rather prim white ensemble, a rather daring jade green one, or this blood red outfit. The neckline was square, and the bodice tight, with seams edged in tiny rubies going down each side of her chest. The sleeves were off the shoulder, gathered at the elbow, then allowed to follow freely, bell-like, past her hands. They hid a particularly nasty and curious scar decorating her right wrist. The skirt was full, but not frilly. Straight lines of tiny rubies continued down the skirt. As the dress was a bit long, Anamaria had to compensate by wearing higher shoes than what Elizabeth would normally wear. Thankfully, she quickly picked up the knack of wearing the heeled slippers, and amused the maids, (whom she learned were Constance and Patience) and Elizabeth for several minutes by prancing about in them, "practicing".
But, to her severe disgust, Anamaria had to wear a corset. Elizabeth tried to console her by telling her that Patience, who was currently digging her foot deeper into Anamaria's spine to get "a better grip", was tying her corset no where near as tight as Elizabeth's had been when she had fainted and fallen off the battlement walls in the incident that began the adventure three years ago.
This failed to console Anamaria.
Anamaria watched Constance assist Elizabeth into a dress that was pastel blue, a light sky-like color that faded to a deeper purple at the bottom of the dress. Her sleeves were tight and short about her shoulders, and small pearls were embroidered in a variety of patterns about the bodice.
Constance and Patience cooed over each of the ladies. Anamaria made a self- deprecating face to hide her torn emotions-- disgust and amusement.
Elizabeth directing in the arranging of the hair-hers was bound up, with a few strategically placed curls let loose, while Anamaria's was curled, teased, and ended up in a simple braid with a few loose strands about the face.
"Come," Elizabeth announced, while Anamaria was still staring at the mirror, trying to figure out where the only lady pirate to sail the seven seas went, "We shall see what the men have done before the banquet starts."
Will had been responsible for Jack, and obviously it was a struggle for power. From the neck down, Jack had all the appearance of a proper English gentlemen about to grace a banquet-in fact, Anamaria had to admit that Jack cut a rather dashing figure, for his person was lean and muscular from the days at sea, and his plain black and white clothing flattered him. However, Jack had refused to relinquish either his dreadlocks or his bandanna, and rings still graced each of his fingers. The sword was still buckled to one hip (although Anamaria doubted that Will put up an argument over that, as he was the creator of the magnificent weapon, and any nobleman would be proud to wear it) and a pistol still rode on the other. His disturbing brown eyes were still dramatically outlined in kohl- although Anamaria noticed it was fresh- but his bronzed skin was several shades lighter than it had been this morning, suggesting a bath.
Will, standing beside him, looked exhausted but handsome. He was the epitome of English elegance- although his brown eyes held an independent spark that might have been unnerving to someone else. To Anamaria, it was reassuring. Bootstrap's son still carried on his father's spirit. He said to Elizabeth, "He somehow agreed, between the argument about the vest and the argument about his hair. Although I don't know what your father will say when he hears the reaction of the people attending."
Elizabeth gave an unladylike snort. "Father will deal. Who else would he want to do it? Norrington?"
Will shrugged. "Well, I'm just giving fair warning."
Anamaria looked from Will, to Elizabeth, and back again. "Who's agreed? To what?"
Will said, with a look of pleasure on his face, "Jack's agreed to be my best man."
Anamaria raised her eyebrows, and said softly, "Oh, really?" quite politely, and looked at Jack. He beamed at her, a frightening thing of white and gold. "Aye, luv. Ain't life grand?"
Will and Elizabeth looked at each other, shared a secret, smile happily, and Anamaria rolled her eyes.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------------------ At a Civilized Gathering
"I hardly recognize me own, luv, in that outrageous getup," Jack murmured in her ear as they twirled around the ballroom.
"I can hardly recognize the infamous pirate Captain Jack Sparrow in new clothes waltzing in a nobleman's ballroom," Anamaria retorted, careful to keep her voice low. It was obvious enough "Jackson Finch and his lovely wife Maria" were not exactly cut of nobility's cloth, but it didn't do to flaunt the fact. Luckily, not many of the nobility remembered the embarrassing hanging attempted last spring, and those that did wisely kept quiet after the announcement of the "English privateer" who would act as William Turner's best man. No one, especially, dared contract Commodore James Norrington, who publicly concurred with Will's introduction.
How Mr. Turner got the Commodore to do that, Anamaria would never know.
The dinner was an amazing success. The food was excellent, the drink intoxicating and the music subtle but good. Even the atmosphere was heady. It was obvious to Anamaria that a number of couples were forming on this romantic summer night-it seemed that love might be contagious. As she looked upon her dancing partner, she dearly hoped not.
Jack snorted loudly, drawing a few startled glances in his direction. He merely grinned at them briefly before turning back to his "wife."
"I, at least, can still act the pirate in this vile outfit." He replied.
"I can too be a pirate, even if I am in a corset," Anamaria said, offended.
"Aye, luv?" He said, leaning closer. "Let's see it."
They snuck off to the upstairs hallway. Anamaria retrieved her sword from her room, and the duel began.
They were up and down the servants' hall in exchanging a series of chops designed to use a great deal of power to exhaust the opponent early. However, as both were experienced pirates, the ploy didn't work.
"Now, luv, let's see your footwork," Jack said with a grin, crossing one foot to the left. Anamaria quickly responded with a left sidestep of her own. Jack raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What shoes ye been wearing, luv?" He said, as he lunged.
"Heels," Anamaria replied sweetly as she blocked his thrust and parried.
"It's simple," she elaborated as she began a series of chops, this time, low and on either side in a varying pattern. "If one stays forward, on one's toes, one can balance better, and the clunky heels do not become so much of an issue."
"Ahh," Jack said in an understanding tone, and used his block to shove Anamaria backwards.
She went down, rolled to her knees, and growled. While Jack paused, examining in his mind the implications of Anamaria on her knees in front of him, albeit four feet away, the object of his thought whipped off her shoes and threw them at him.
He grunted as one hit his diaphragm. The other missed his head by inches.
Anamaria got up to begin another charge. Then they heard the sounds of two people making their way up the back stairwell. They were the sounds of two people becoming more and more, um, _involved_ with each other, complete with murmurs and endearments. To Anamaria, it sounded like two lovers on an average romantic night. Jack, however, recognized it as two people about to engage in passionate sex. Curious, but not dumb, he rushed Anamaria into the nearest doorway of the new hall, and they both peeked outside the door.
The couple moved closer, but their faces were not visible in the darkened hallway.
Jack looked down at Anamaria, who was watching the scene with an unreadable expression on her face.
Anamaria replied frantically, "Jack! They are comin' this way!"
Jack grabbed her and they dashed to the nearest hiding spot, behind another door, which led to a familiar bathroom, keeping the door slightly ajar in order to watch for the opportune moment.
"Ohmigod." Anamaria swallowed a chuckle. "It's Liz and Will!"
Jack grimaced, then grinned. "Guessing he be not an eunuch then, huh?"
Anamaria desperately smothered her laughter before awareness of her surroundings sobered her instantly. She was on her knees, pressed rather intimately into Jack's lap, and his upper body curled around her. She felt him still, and become aware of their position as well.
His lips curled. "Ah, luv, finally got me where you want me?"
Anamaria felt breathless, then suddenly frustrated. She leapt up, the top of her head connecting with Jack's chin. His head snapped back, and he grabbed his injured area.
"Christ, luv, assault was not the answer I was hopin' for!" He whispered furiously. He didn't get an answer. Anamaria stalked out the other door, and then whirled. "This be my room, Captain Jack Sparrow, so git out- now!" She ordered as quietly as possible.
"Uh uh, luv, it be not nice to send away a lover without the proper goodbye." Jack leaned forward, in a drunken manner as always, but he could see in Anamaria's wide grey eyes she wasn't fooled.
"We're not lovers!" She whispered frantically.
"Correction, luv," he held a finger to her lips. "We've not consummated our passion, like Will and Liz over there yet." Then he bent his rule and replaced his finger with his lips.