The Makings of a Pirate, by Hellborne
Pirates of the Caribbean
Copyright: Characters, not mine, See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.
Typing convention. / is used for thoughts.
Summary: Jack Sparrow seems to be waging a personal war on slavery. Elizabeth and Will want to know WHY.
BETA: Pendragginink I love you! You are the greatest!!!!! I really can't say enough wonderful things about you!
A/N: Feed the plot ferrets or they'll bite you in the arse...and I won't write anything else.
- - - - - - -
Chapter 3 - Soldiers Soldiers Everywhere
Pintel and Ragetti escorted Norrington to Jack's cabin, locked his arms into some shackles that they had installed in the floor there in anticipation of his capture, and left. He stood there at attention while Jack was carried in. The men left, leaving him alone with the injured pirate.
After only a few moments, Jack groaned and rolled over, then sat up carefully, looking at Norrington, and grinned. He eased himself out of bed and limped slowly and painfully to his desk. "Drink, Jimboy? He held up a brandy bottle in his left hand.
Norrington was furious. "My name is COMMODORE NORRINGTON..."
"I don't see your fleet anywhere...COMMODORE?" Jack was almost giggling.
"Damn you Sparrow!"
"That's COMMODORE Sparrow, Jimboy. See that you remember it. Now, even if YOU do not want a drink, I certainly DO." He put the brandy bottle on the table, snatched a rum bottle and took a LONG drink. Almost half of the bottle disappeared.
Jack sat down. "I believe that I shall never invite Pintel to knock me about ever again." He reached into the desk and pulled out a roll of homemade bandages. He seemed to be speaking to himself. "Broken wrist...sword through me shoulder...sprained ankle...two broken ribs...and that shot HURT!" He seemed to realize he was speaking out loud and looked at Norrington. "And I did it all for YOU."
Norrington started. "What?!"
"Yes, Jimboy. If my injuries were not real, or if they were not serious enough, I knew that you would never believe me, and I NEEDED all of your attention to take that slaver."
"Lots of profit from slave trade, eh Jack?"
The Commodore was never quite sure, what, exactly, happened next. He did know that he had never before seen a man move with the lightening speed as Jack Sparrow did then. He was up and on him in a rush, a smooth, panther swift motion that ended with a hand of iron twisted tightly in his shirt collar, lifting him off his feet, choking him; holding him there with one arm, his toes dangling, not quite touching the floor. Impressive for a man his size, and one wounded at that.
Norrington struggled for breath, stunned by the look of cold rage on the hardened face inches from his own, chilled to numbness by the terse, feral whisper, "HOW...DARE...YOU." Jacks hand twisted the tighter in the fabric under his chin, cutting off his air, and then...opened, letting go, dropping him to land, hard, red faced, and crumpled on the cabin floor like a discarded marionette.
/Apparently it was something I said/, the Commodore chided himself. He swallowed, trembling, rubbing his throat, sucking in the blessed air and shaking his head in amazement at having so badly under-anticipated an adversary.
Norrington could taste that his lip had split open, bitten as he landed hard on the floor, blood trickling down his chin. He ignored it. He looked at Jack and saw a fury the likes of which he had never seen before. "You are a pirate, Sparrow. How could I assume you and your bloodthirsty crew would not want to take the profit?"
Jack seemed to calm just a little bit, though he fairly snarled at his captive. "You will NEVER find me or any of my crew dealing in human lives." He was suddenly all business. "Jimboy, why was the Dauntless guarding the slaver?"
"Orders from England to make sure that you did not steal more English merchant ships."
"And you believe that acting on those orders was conscionable?"
Norrington looked almost sorry. "They came directly from the Admiral. I am not to question orders from the Admiralty."
The pirate limped over to the bed and sat down. "Yes you are. I can see that those orders were against your ethics and morals. Yet you brought your finest ship out to protect people who care naught for human liberty."
"And what do YOU care for human liberty?"
"I'm a pirate, Jimboy. I care for nothing more than human liberty, savvy?" Jack seemed to think for a moment, then to get an idea. He seemed to smile at a hidden joke. "Tell ye what, Jimboy. I shall give you a great honor that none before you have ever had. Once your men have been dropped off, we shall begin. You shall learn what slavery is all about by becoming my very own property. What say you to that, eh?"
Norrington drew himself up to his full height, indignant. "I am NOT a slave to any man, and certainly not to the likes of YOU!"
Jack grinned. "Aye, that ye will be, Jimboy. That ye will be. But I shall do you the kindness of not startin' your training till your crew is off this ship."
Norrington drew a handkerchief out of a pocket and spat into it. It was red with his blood. Apparently the pirate had done a little more damage to him than he'd believed.
Jack grabbed the bandages he had taken out of the desk and wrapped it tightly around his right wrist, his right ankle, and his chest, including his shoulder. Then he put his boots back on, walked over to a chest, grabbed another shirt and put it on over the bandages. He looked at Norrington and saw him dabbing at his bloody lip with the handkerchief. "I'll be obliged if you do not bleed on my cabin floor, Jimboy." He strode out of the cabin.
Norrington noticed that Jack still definitely favored of his right leg. "Daft...He's completely daft." He wondered if he would live through Jack's idea of an "honor."
- -
Jack entered the Black Pearl's hold and saw that it was completely filled with soldiers. The pirate guarding the door stood a bit straighter and followed Jack down the stairs, his gun drawn. The crew had done what they could to secure them, but the two small cells could only hold 20 standing people each. The others had been chained to the outsides of the cells and to various places around the hold, including each other. There must have been at least a hundred and fifty prisoners. Jack was looking for one prisoner in particular. He found him in one of the cells, unhurt. "Captain Gillette. You are to stand clear of the others, then come with me."
Gillette waited at the cell door while the others kept as far back as they could. Once it was open, Gillette walked out and waited patiently while the door was secured. Jack turned, silently, and climbed the stairs. The guard signaled to Gillette to follow Jack while he went back to his post.
Gillette got to the top of the stairs to see that the deck had been completely cleared of the blood that had adorned it throughout the fight. In its place, the pirate crew was constructing what could only be described as human-sized nests with a short pole in the middle of each. At the top of each pole were four rings with shackles hanging down to the ground. He saw Jack Sparrow jerk hard on one of them, nod, and limp up the steps to the helm. Gillette followed. He stopped at the top of the stairs and waited patiently for the pirate to speak.
"Captain Gillette, we have no ceremony here. Get that stick out of yer arse and relax." Gillette tried to relax, but couldn't. He shifted his weight uneasily. Jack noticed and smiled. "Please allow me to start by saying that I must apologize about the accommodations. As you can see, we are trying to make bettah ones for your men. Also let me say that we should have you and your crew safe at a British port within three days unless the weather changes."
Gillette's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You are letting us go?"
"Yes, with the exception of your Commodore. He shall remain as my guest for a little. He will remain unharmed as long as WE are left unharmed."
"Let me see him. I don't believe that you are telling me the truth. I must see the Commodore alive and unharmed."
Jack looked sympathetic. "I cannot in good conscience allow that right now. Commodore Norrington deserves the respect of his crew and of his fleet, and that includes you, mate. I shall not degrade your memory of him by allowing you to see him in chains. Be content to know that he is quite alive and I swear on pain of death that he shall remain so unless one of your own bloody cannon balls hits him."
"Why do you want him, Captain Sparrow?"
"COMMODORE Sparrow, Captain Gillette. I want him because it was his responsibility for the Dauntless protecting the slaver. Now, swear to me that you shall stay out of my cabin to try to visit him unless I bring you there meself and you may have free reign on board the Pearl till we drop you and your men off."
Gillette capitulated, realizing that Sparrow was right. If Commodore Norrington was seen in chains by the men, their morale could deteriorate further. The pirate was actually doing the Commodore a service. "I swear it. But if he is harmed, I will hunt you down personally, and your death will NOT be swift OR painless."
"Then we have an accord. Now go to the cabin next to mine and grab yourself a hammock, then let your men know that we are getting them better arrangements as quickly as possible, and they shall be fed very soon after that. The Pearl is sore over-crowded, but we took on stores with your men in mind." Jack led the way down the stairs to the cabin next to his own. "Pick out a hammock and tend to your men." He left.
- -
By evening, the soldiers were chained, four to a post, all over the outer edge of the deck. They each had a blanket, and everyone had been fed. The officers and sailors of the dauntless had been chained to hammocks in the hold, with community buckets to relieve themselves in. There were also water and rum buckets hung in strategic places so that they would not go without something to drink. The doctor was free to roam the ship and dress the prisoners' injuries. Gillette had to admit that it was the best possible arrangement that could be made on the vastly overcrowded ship.
Upon choosing a hammock, Gillette searched the room for any weapons, but found none. He wandered around the ship to study the layout, and found that the pirates themselves had had to string hammocks in various places around the ship. There were six of them in the small galley, leaving no room to cook when they were stretched out. Apparently Commodore Sparrow had recognized the need for extra men to use against the Dauntless. Gillette's opinion of him rose despite himself.
Dinner had been quite a surprise. The prisoners and the pirates all ate the same fare: a chunk of almost fresh bread, a good helping of beans, a hunk of freshly cooked goat meat, and even a banana a piece. Of course the rum flowed freely, as did the water. He stationed himself on the back ledge of the poop deck and watched and listened.
- -
Norrington stood watching as two pirates came in and methodically removed from the room anything that could possibly be used as a weapon. They returned with enough straw to make a bed of sorts, which they set up at the foot of Jack's bed on the floor. They dropped a blanket in the middle of it and left. Shortly after that, Ragetti entered with a large tray of food. He placed it on the table, walked over to the Commodore, and unlocked the shackles. "The Commodore sends his compliments and regrets that he cannot dine with you. Dig in, mate, but please don't leave the cabin. I made this special for you on the Commodore's request." Ragetti took the brandy bottle down with a glass and set it on the table with the food.
Norrington rubbed his wrists where he had worn the shackles, nodded to Ragetti and looked at the spread in front of him. /This was slaves' fare?/ There were at least four dishes there that he had never seen before, though they certainly smelled delicious. There was also plain white rice, and a small bottle that looked oriental, though he had never seen anything like it. "What are all these? They do smell good, but I have never before seen their like."
Ragetti smiled. "This is what I learned to cook from the Commodore. The Commodore enjoys the food from the Orient, and thought you might as well. This dish here is pork, this one is chicken, and this one is a mixed dish. This last is beef. The bottle has a rice wine in it that Commodore Sparrow saves for rare celebrations. Enjoy." He walked out, leaving Norrington to himself and the feast in front of him.
The Commodore sat down at the table and looked at the food. There was no silverware; just two short sticks that he did not know what to do with. He decided to try the rice wine. He poured it into the tiny ceramic goblet and sipped. It was strong for wine, but actually quite good. He wanted to try the food, but did not know what to do with the sticks, if they were in fact eating utensils. The food demanded some kind of utensil, as they seemed to be almost stews of different kinds. He grabbed one of the sticks and stabbed a piece of meat that Ragetti claimed was pork. He put it in his mouth and almost dropped it in surprise. It tasted better than anything he had ever had. And THIS is what Sparrow eats often? He speared one of the pieces of chicken. Sweet, with sesame seeds in it. If Sparrow kept to his word and eventually released him he would have to get Ragetti to give him the recipes for his chef! The Beef was marginally sweet, but with a spicy flavor mixed in. Magnificent! The mixed bowl looked odd. He stabbed something that looked like a mussel. It was, but he could not believe the sauce. It was light, tasty, and had only a hint of the sea in it. The spices were foreign to him, but quite delicious.
- -
Jack saw Ragetti leave the cabin smiling. He turned around to the ever-present Gillette. "All right then. It is time for you to visit your Commodore to prove that I am, in fact, a man of me word. Come with me." He started down the stairs, Gillette following closely. He turned and knocked on his own cabin door. "Commodore, I have a visitor for you." Not waiting for an answer, he walked in followed by Gillette.
Norrington looked up, smiling. "Commodore Sparrow, I should like to extend my compliments to the cook. This food is delicious! Now, if you would be so kind as to let me use silverware I could finish eating before it gets cold."
"Nonsense. I see that you are using the chopsticks. Well, one of them anyway." He turned to Gillette. "Hungry? I sent enough for two, and I can't make it." He walked over to Norrington, taking a pair of mother of pearl inlayed black chopsticks out of a pocket. "Let me help you with that." He took Norrington's hand and placed the chopstick that Norrington was holding into the correct position. "Hold it there with the base of your thumb." He placed the other chopstick between the Commodore's thumb and forefinger, much like a pen would be held. "Hold this one like this. Now move the top stick like this." He grabbed his own chopsticks like a pro and grabbed a vegetable from the pork dish, eating it. "I love sweet and sour pork!" He pointed at the dishes in turn. "That one there is sesame chicken, that one is called Mongolian beef, and this is a happy family. Ah! I see you have tried the sake. Do you like it?"
"Yes, it is all quite delicious. Do you eat this way every day?"
"No, but often enough that I don' miss it when I don'. Captain Gillette wanted to be sure that you were alive and well, and I promised that I would show him." He turned to Gillette. "Well, am I a man of me word or not?"
Gillette seemed almost daydreaming. He had obviously smelled the food and wanted some fairly badly. "Err...yes...yes you are. At least so far."
"Sit down and have some. There's plenty to go around." He looked in one of the desk drawers, and pulled out another pair of plain chopsticks. He handed these to Gillette. "Just hold them like I showed the Commodore, mate. Now if you both will excuse me, I have chores to do." He left, putting his own chopsticks back in his pocket.
Gillette looked the Commodore over. "What happened to your lip sir? Did someone strike you?"
Norrington seemed to think about it for a moment. "Not exactly. It seems that Jack Sparrow has a very rabid hatred of slavery that has me perplexed, and a comment I made touched him in just the wrong way. He did explain himself, and I believe the damage to have been unintentional."
Gillette calmed down. He looked at the chopsticks in his hand, and how the Commodore was faring with his. May I try it, sir? It does smell quite good."
Norrington smiled. "Of course. There is far too much for me to eat. Help yourself, if you can figure out these confounded sticks."
Gillette copied what he saw Jack do, and tentatively picked up a piece of pork. After a few attempts, he was able to hold a piece between the chopsticks without dropping it on its way to his mouth. A yummy noise escaped before he realized he made it.
Norrington chuckled. "Agreed. Find the man with the glass eye and get the recipe. I'll want my personal chef to know how to cook these dishes before I get back."
"Did Sparrow tell you when that will be, sir? He told me he was keeping you for a while after letting the rest of us go, but he didn't say how long it would be."
"Don't you worry about that. I shall be fine. Just see that the men are cared for. How are they being treated?"
Gillette seemed surprised and happy. "As good as can be, Commodore. It's almost as if they weren't pirates, sir. So as not to overcrowd the hold, most of the men are on deck, but I cannot see anything the pirates have done to them as being abusive, considering that the pirates are just as crowded. I am relieved that you have not been harmed, Commodore. I had feared the worst."
They talked through the meal about various things. When the food was gone, Gillette excused himself and left. Norrington had to smile. Gillette would make sure that the men kept up their morale.
- -
TBC
A/N: Can't live without REVIEWS! Reviews are food for plot bunnies, and plot bunnies must be fed in order to write more!
Pirates of the Caribbean
Copyright: Characters, not mine, See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.
Typing convention. / is used for thoughts.
Summary: Jack Sparrow seems to be waging a personal war on slavery. Elizabeth and Will want to know WHY.
BETA: Pendragginink I love you! You are the greatest!!!!! I really can't say enough wonderful things about you!
A/N: Feed the plot ferrets or they'll bite you in the arse...and I won't write anything else.
- - - - - - -
Chapter 3 - Soldiers Soldiers Everywhere
Pintel and Ragetti escorted Norrington to Jack's cabin, locked his arms into some shackles that they had installed in the floor there in anticipation of his capture, and left. He stood there at attention while Jack was carried in. The men left, leaving him alone with the injured pirate.
After only a few moments, Jack groaned and rolled over, then sat up carefully, looking at Norrington, and grinned. He eased himself out of bed and limped slowly and painfully to his desk. "Drink, Jimboy? He held up a brandy bottle in his left hand.
Norrington was furious. "My name is COMMODORE NORRINGTON..."
"I don't see your fleet anywhere...COMMODORE?" Jack was almost giggling.
"Damn you Sparrow!"
"That's COMMODORE Sparrow, Jimboy. See that you remember it. Now, even if YOU do not want a drink, I certainly DO." He put the brandy bottle on the table, snatched a rum bottle and took a LONG drink. Almost half of the bottle disappeared.
Jack sat down. "I believe that I shall never invite Pintel to knock me about ever again." He reached into the desk and pulled out a roll of homemade bandages. He seemed to be speaking to himself. "Broken wrist...sword through me shoulder...sprained ankle...two broken ribs...and that shot HURT!" He seemed to realize he was speaking out loud and looked at Norrington. "And I did it all for YOU."
Norrington started. "What?!"
"Yes, Jimboy. If my injuries were not real, or if they were not serious enough, I knew that you would never believe me, and I NEEDED all of your attention to take that slaver."
"Lots of profit from slave trade, eh Jack?"
The Commodore was never quite sure, what, exactly, happened next. He did know that he had never before seen a man move with the lightening speed as Jack Sparrow did then. He was up and on him in a rush, a smooth, panther swift motion that ended with a hand of iron twisted tightly in his shirt collar, lifting him off his feet, choking him; holding him there with one arm, his toes dangling, not quite touching the floor. Impressive for a man his size, and one wounded at that.
Norrington struggled for breath, stunned by the look of cold rage on the hardened face inches from his own, chilled to numbness by the terse, feral whisper, "HOW...DARE...YOU." Jacks hand twisted the tighter in the fabric under his chin, cutting off his air, and then...opened, letting go, dropping him to land, hard, red faced, and crumpled on the cabin floor like a discarded marionette.
/Apparently it was something I said/, the Commodore chided himself. He swallowed, trembling, rubbing his throat, sucking in the blessed air and shaking his head in amazement at having so badly under-anticipated an adversary.
Norrington could taste that his lip had split open, bitten as he landed hard on the floor, blood trickling down his chin. He ignored it. He looked at Jack and saw a fury the likes of which he had never seen before. "You are a pirate, Sparrow. How could I assume you and your bloodthirsty crew would not want to take the profit?"
Jack seemed to calm just a little bit, though he fairly snarled at his captive. "You will NEVER find me or any of my crew dealing in human lives." He was suddenly all business. "Jimboy, why was the Dauntless guarding the slaver?"
"Orders from England to make sure that you did not steal more English merchant ships."
"And you believe that acting on those orders was conscionable?"
Norrington looked almost sorry. "They came directly from the Admiral. I am not to question orders from the Admiralty."
The pirate limped over to the bed and sat down. "Yes you are. I can see that those orders were against your ethics and morals. Yet you brought your finest ship out to protect people who care naught for human liberty."
"And what do YOU care for human liberty?"
"I'm a pirate, Jimboy. I care for nothing more than human liberty, savvy?" Jack seemed to think for a moment, then to get an idea. He seemed to smile at a hidden joke. "Tell ye what, Jimboy. I shall give you a great honor that none before you have ever had. Once your men have been dropped off, we shall begin. You shall learn what slavery is all about by becoming my very own property. What say you to that, eh?"
Norrington drew himself up to his full height, indignant. "I am NOT a slave to any man, and certainly not to the likes of YOU!"
Jack grinned. "Aye, that ye will be, Jimboy. That ye will be. But I shall do you the kindness of not startin' your training till your crew is off this ship."
Norrington drew a handkerchief out of a pocket and spat into it. It was red with his blood. Apparently the pirate had done a little more damage to him than he'd believed.
Jack grabbed the bandages he had taken out of the desk and wrapped it tightly around his right wrist, his right ankle, and his chest, including his shoulder. Then he put his boots back on, walked over to a chest, grabbed another shirt and put it on over the bandages. He looked at Norrington and saw him dabbing at his bloody lip with the handkerchief. "I'll be obliged if you do not bleed on my cabin floor, Jimboy." He strode out of the cabin.
Norrington noticed that Jack still definitely favored of his right leg. "Daft...He's completely daft." He wondered if he would live through Jack's idea of an "honor."
- -
Jack entered the Black Pearl's hold and saw that it was completely filled with soldiers. The pirate guarding the door stood a bit straighter and followed Jack down the stairs, his gun drawn. The crew had done what they could to secure them, but the two small cells could only hold 20 standing people each. The others had been chained to the outsides of the cells and to various places around the hold, including each other. There must have been at least a hundred and fifty prisoners. Jack was looking for one prisoner in particular. He found him in one of the cells, unhurt. "Captain Gillette. You are to stand clear of the others, then come with me."
Gillette waited at the cell door while the others kept as far back as they could. Once it was open, Gillette walked out and waited patiently while the door was secured. Jack turned, silently, and climbed the stairs. The guard signaled to Gillette to follow Jack while he went back to his post.
Gillette got to the top of the stairs to see that the deck had been completely cleared of the blood that had adorned it throughout the fight. In its place, the pirate crew was constructing what could only be described as human-sized nests with a short pole in the middle of each. At the top of each pole were four rings with shackles hanging down to the ground. He saw Jack Sparrow jerk hard on one of them, nod, and limp up the steps to the helm. Gillette followed. He stopped at the top of the stairs and waited patiently for the pirate to speak.
"Captain Gillette, we have no ceremony here. Get that stick out of yer arse and relax." Gillette tried to relax, but couldn't. He shifted his weight uneasily. Jack noticed and smiled. "Please allow me to start by saying that I must apologize about the accommodations. As you can see, we are trying to make bettah ones for your men. Also let me say that we should have you and your crew safe at a British port within three days unless the weather changes."
Gillette's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You are letting us go?"
"Yes, with the exception of your Commodore. He shall remain as my guest for a little. He will remain unharmed as long as WE are left unharmed."
"Let me see him. I don't believe that you are telling me the truth. I must see the Commodore alive and unharmed."
Jack looked sympathetic. "I cannot in good conscience allow that right now. Commodore Norrington deserves the respect of his crew and of his fleet, and that includes you, mate. I shall not degrade your memory of him by allowing you to see him in chains. Be content to know that he is quite alive and I swear on pain of death that he shall remain so unless one of your own bloody cannon balls hits him."
"Why do you want him, Captain Sparrow?"
"COMMODORE Sparrow, Captain Gillette. I want him because it was his responsibility for the Dauntless protecting the slaver. Now, swear to me that you shall stay out of my cabin to try to visit him unless I bring you there meself and you may have free reign on board the Pearl till we drop you and your men off."
Gillette capitulated, realizing that Sparrow was right. If Commodore Norrington was seen in chains by the men, their morale could deteriorate further. The pirate was actually doing the Commodore a service. "I swear it. But if he is harmed, I will hunt you down personally, and your death will NOT be swift OR painless."
"Then we have an accord. Now go to the cabin next to mine and grab yourself a hammock, then let your men know that we are getting them better arrangements as quickly as possible, and they shall be fed very soon after that. The Pearl is sore over-crowded, but we took on stores with your men in mind." Jack led the way down the stairs to the cabin next to his own. "Pick out a hammock and tend to your men." He left.
- -
By evening, the soldiers were chained, four to a post, all over the outer edge of the deck. They each had a blanket, and everyone had been fed. The officers and sailors of the dauntless had been chained to hammocks in the hold, with community buckets to relieve themselves in. There were also water and rum buckets hung in strategic places so that they would not go without something to drink. The doctor was free to roam the ship and dress the prisoners' injuries. Gillette had to admit that it was the best possible arrangement that could be made on the vastly overcrowded ship.
Upon choosing a hammock, Gillette searched the room for any weapons, but found none. He wandered around the ship to study the layout, and found that the pirates themselves had had to string hammocks in various places around the ship. There were six of them in the small galley, leaving no room to cook when they were stretched out. Apparently Commodore Sparrow had recognized the need for extra men to use against the Dauntless. Gillette's opinion of him rose despite himself.
Dinner had been quite a surprise. The prisoners and the pirates all ate the same fare: a chunk of almost fresh bread, a good helping of beans, a hunk of freshly cooked goat meat, and even a banana a piece. Of course the rum flowed freely, as did the water. He stationed himself on the back ledge of the poop deck and watched and listened.
- -
Norrington stood watching as two pirates came in and methodically removed from the room anything that could possibly be used as a weapon. They returned with enough straw to make a bed of sorts, which they set up at the foot of Jack's bed on the floor. They dropped a blanket in the middle of it and left. Shortly after that, Ragetti entered with a large tray of food. He placed it on the table, walked over to the Commodore, and unlocked the shackles. "The Commodore sends his compliments and regrets that he cannot dine with you. Dig in, mate, but please don't leave the cabin. I made this special for you on the Commodore's request." Ragetti took the brandy bottle down with a glass and set it on the table with the food.
Norrington rubbed his wrists where he had worn the shackles, nodded to Ragetti and looked at the spread in front of him. /This was slaves' fare?/ There were at least four dishes there that he had never seen before, though they certainly smelled delicious. There was also plain white rice, and a small bottle that looked oriental, though he had never seen anything like it. "What are all these? They do smell good, but I have never before seen their like."
Ragetti smiled. "This is what I learned to cook from the Commodore. The Commodore enjoys the food from the Orient, and thought you might as well. This dish here is pork, this one is chicken, and this one is a mixed dish. This last is beef. The bottle has a rice wine in it that Commodore Sparrow saves for rare celebrations. Enjoy." He walked out, leaving Norrington to himself and the feast in front of him.
The Commodore sat down at the table and looked at the food. There was no silverware; just two short sticks that he did not know what to do with. He decided to try the rice wine. He poured it into the tiny ceramic goblet and sipped. It was strong for wine, but actually quite good. He wanted to try the food, but did not know what to do with the sticks, if they were in fact eating utensils. The food demanded some kind of utensil, as they seemed to be almost stews of different kinds. He grabbed one of the sticks and stabbed a piece of meat that Ragetti claimed was pork. He put it in his mouth and almost dropped it in surprise. It tasted better than anything he had ever had. And THIS is what Sparrow eats often? He speared one of the pieces of chicken. Sweet, with sesame seeds in it. If Sparrow kept to his word and eventually released him he would have to get Ragetti to give him the recipes for his chef! The Beef was marginally sweet, but with a spicy flavor mixed in. Magnificent! The mixed bowl looked odd. He stabbed something that looked like a mussel. It was, but he could not believe the sauce. It was light, tasty, and had only a hint of the sea in it. The spices were foreign to him, but quite delicious.
- -
Jack saw Ragetti leave the cabin smiling. He turned around to the ever-present Gillette. "All right then. It is time for you to visit your Commodore to prove that I am, in fact, a man of me word. Come with me." He started down the stairs, Gillette following closely. He turned and knocked on his own cabin door. "Commodore, I have a visitor for you." Not waiting for an answer, he walked in followed by Gillette.
Norrington looked up, smiling. "Commodore Sparrow, I should like to extend my compliments to the cook. This food is delicious! Now, if you would be so kind as to let me use silverware I could finish eating before it gets cold."
"Nonsense. I see that you are using the chopsticks. Well, one of them anyway." He turned to Gillette. "Hungry? I sent enough for two, and I can't make it." He walked over to Norrington, taking a pair of mother of pearl inlayed black chopsticks out of a pocket. "Let me help you with that." He took Norrington's hand and placed the chopstick that Norrington was holding into the correct position. "Hold it there with the base of your thumb." He placed the other chopstick between the Commodore's thumb and forefinger, much like a pen would be held. "Hold this one like this. Now move the top stick like this." He grabbed his own chopsticks like a pro and grabbed a vegetable from the pork dish, eating it. "I love sweet and sour pork!" He pointed at the dishes in turn. "That one there is sesame chicken, that one is called Mongolian beef, and this is a happy family. Ah! I see you have tried the sake. Do you like it?"
"Yes, it is all quite delicious. Do you eat this way every day?"
"No, but often enough that I don' miss it when I don'. Captain Gillette wanted to be sure that you were alive and well, and I promised that I would show him." He turned to Gillette. "Well, am I a man of me word or not?"
Gillette seemed almost daydreaming. He had obviously smelled the food and wanted some fairly badly. "Err...yes...yes you are. At least so far."
"Sit down and have some. There's plenty to go around." He looked in one of the desk drawers, and pulled out another pair of plain chopsticks. He handed these to Gillette. "Just hold them like I showed the Commodore, mate. Now if you both will excuse me, I have chores to do." He left, putting his own chopsticks back in his pocket.
Gillette looked the Commodore over. "What happened to your lip sir? Did someone strike you?"
Norrington seemed to think about it for a moment. "Not exactly. It seems that Jack Sparrow has a very rabid hatred of slavery that has me perplexed, and a comment I made touched him in just the wrong way. He did explain himself, and I believe the damage to have been unintentional."
Gillette calmed down. He looked at the chopsticks in his hand, and how the Commodore was faring with his. May I try it, sir? It does smell quite good."
Norrington smiled. "Of course. There is far too much for me to eat. Help yourself, if you can figure out these confounded sticks."
Gillette copied what he saw Jack do, and tentatively picked up a piece of pork. After a few attempts, he was able to hold a piece between the chopsticks without dropping it on its way to his mouth. A yummy noise escaped before he realized he made it.
Norrington chuckled. "Agreed. Find the man with the glass eye and get the recipe. I'll want my personal chef to know how to cook these dishes before I get back."
"Did Sparrow tell you when that will be, sir? He told me he was keeping you for a while after letting the rest of us go, but he didn't say how long it would be."
"Don't you worry about that. I shall be fine. Just see that the men are cared for. How are they being treated?"
Gillette seemed surprised and happy. "As good as can be, Commodore. It's almost as if they weren't pirates, sir. So as not to overcrowd the hold, most of the men are on deck, but I cannot see anything the pirates have done to them as being abusive, considering that the pirates are just as crowded. I am relieved that you have not been harmed, Commodore. I had feared the worst."
They talked through the meal about various things. When the food was gone, Gillette excused himself and left. Norrington had to smile. Gillette would make sure that the men kept up their morale.
- -
TBC
A/N: Can't live without REVIEWS! Reviews are food for plot bunnies, and plot bunnies must be fed in order to write more!
