Disclaimer: *heavy sigh* Still don't own Jack or Pirates…But I do happen to own Kendra and her crew. *nod nod* So don't you be stealin' them! Unless…you, well…I guess I might let you pay to write stuff with them…but since it's doubtful anyone will like them besides me…*sniffle* never mind that.
Authors Notes: A note for you, there are two more characters to be added, that's the "four-sided eyes"…four POV's…but, they're later on in the story. Janette and Spriggit in chapter five. Hope you enjoy!
Four-Sided Eyes
(a.k.a. Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the fangirl)
Chapter 2: Grenada Taverns
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Jack's POV…)
Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl walked the streets of Grenada.
And…
Nothing was happening.
With another glance around, I reaffirmed it.
No one had noticed me. Me! Captain Jack Sparrow!
But no matter, I frowned to myself for a moment, I'll just have to build up my image here. Or perhaps all my loyal admirers just don't recognize me.
That had to be it.
I need to remedy that, but first, me rum.
So, I kept walking and followed my eyes and ears, until I found the closest tavern. I had to look at the image on the swinging sign, as everything was written in French. Stupid language, really.
Stepping into this particular tavern…it felt odd.
And that was not a good thing.
Definitely not.
Only one remedy.
I put on the famous Captain Jack Sparrow grin and sauntered in. Need to get really smashed…then there won't be the least bit of discomfort anywhere…
Even if everyone else is babbling in French, or Portuguese, or Spanish, or anything really…
Sitting down at the bar, I waited for the bartender to come over. I had come to a busy tavern, so he had a large number of customers to serve. Soon he came over to me and babbled something.
"Rum," I said clearly. "I'll have a bottle of rum."
He stared for a moment, then mumbled again.
Bloody hell…I just want a bottle of rum. Rolling my eyes, I cleared my throat and repeated my desire.
"Sir, would you care for some assistance?" a small voice asked.
I glanced back and found a small boy, no more than twelve or thirteen, standing there and smiling softly.
"What?"
His smile became impish for a moment. "You seem unable to communicate with the bartender…I speak a spot of French. You said you wanted a bottle of rum?"
I nodded.
The boy sat next to me and spoke fluently. It was a surprise that he had been speaking what I thought normal English just a moment before.
"J'ai bosion d'une bouteille de rhum."
The bartender nodded, and turned around, producing what looked so… very… beautiful.
I took the bottle immediately, and nodded to the boy. "Ye have me thanks." Popping off the cork, I took a deep drink…ah, now that feels much better.
"Enjoying your rum, sir?" the boy asked. "You look like you've been without for a time."
I eyed the boy for a moment. "Perceptive, aren't ye. Well, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. What is your name?"
"Pierre, sir."
"Call me Captain Jack Sparrow, lad, no more of that 'sir' rubbish." I waved my hand around to emphasize my words, the other was far too busy holding the precious rum.
With a nod, and a "Aye, Cap'n Sparrow," I returned to my rum and was surprised to see the lad downing a bottle as well.
Sure hope he can hold his liquor…wouldn't want to have to watch the lad retching anytime soon. Least of all, on or near me.
But he lasted…seemed quite used to it actually.
Either way…the bliss of inebriation is unmatched. At least, in Captain Jack Sparrow's humble opinion.
Now…rum.
Check.
Company and entertainment…
Would the boy - Pierre, I believe his name was- be of any value to me? Entertainment? Someone to talk to? Perhaps he could be amusing when drunk. He at least didn't appear to be a daft boy…
I prided myself on my abilities on judging people. And this lad seemed quite wise, if nothing else, he was in his element here in this tavern.
The boy must have seen my gaze on him, and turned slightly.
"Enjoying your rum, Cap'n Sparrow?"
"Aye, lad." I narrowed my eyes for a moment, watching his expressions closely. Something felt just a little off…
Was probably just all the French in the background. Always did have a way of irritating me.
"Staying long in Grenda?"
"About a week," why was he inquiring? "Do you live here?"
He shook his head. "Nay, just here with my ship. The Dilettante. Not sure how long Cap'n Ken will give us leave, but it should be a few days at least. Where do you originate Cap'n Sparrow?"
A grin came onto my face. "Haven't heard of the…the Dilly-tent was it?" Never could pronounce French very well…
"Dilettante, Cap'n Sparrow. It's a French name, but it suits the ship and crew. It means 'dabbler'. What ship is yours?"
"The Black Pearl."
His eyes widened and he blinked. "The…the…Black Pearl? I thought it was only a legend…amazing."
I cocked my head a bit. "So, ye've heard of my ship…but ye haven't heard of me?"
Pierre contemplated that thought for a moment. "Well…I'm not sure. I guess I am a little lightheaded. But your name does sound familiar."
Familiar? I only sound vaguely familiar? Oh my…this boy and Grenada truly need help.
"So…" Pierre swished his bottle around, then looked up again. "If ye're in Grenada for a whole week…how are you going to get along without speaking any French?"
Oh…that wasn't very nice lad…
"I can get by well enough," I waved my hand and grinned, about to say more, before he spoke up again.
"Like ye did with the rum, eh?" his grin broadened.
Another jab…this boy had the beginnings of a sharp tongue.
"Careful there lad…tis not wise to get on Captain Jack Sparrow's bad side."
His eyes sparkled mischievously, the impish grin back for a second round. "And what would be the consequences of getting on your bad side, Cap'n Sparrow?"
"A great number of things, actually…"
After much arguing, cursing, and more blissful inebriation, Pierre had convinced me to learn a few phrases of French… I believe I agreed just to get him to stop asking me to…
But wouldn't that be defeating the purpose of him bothering me?
Too late now…
"Now," Pierre began, setting a hand on my shoulder and leaning towards me a bit. "You need ta know how to introduce yeself…" he cleared his throat. "Repeat after me. Je m'appelle…"
"Je m'appelle…"
"Le Capitaine Jack Sparrow."
"Luh Captain Jack Sparrow."
He paused for a moment. "Close enough. Now say it again, and put it all togetha'."
I blinked and for the life of me…the words I'd just babbled were gone from my memory.
He sighed and started again. "Je m'appelle le Capitane Jack Sparrow."
"Juh mapel luh Captain Jack Sparrow." I took a swig of rum, then looked scrupulously at the lad. "Now what did I just say?"
"I am Captain Jack Sparrow."
"No you're not, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."
He rolled his eyes. "I just translated for you. I'm not claiming your name."
"Aye…" I chuckled, "now…how would I say…" I tugged at my braids. "Something like 'It is a beautiful evening, love'?"
Pierre raised an eyebrow slightly. "Trying to impress the French women, are ya?"
The classic Jack Sparrow grin reappeared. "Nothin' wrong with a few compliments, eh lad?"
"Aye, Cap'n Sparrow." He closed his eyes a bit in thought, and then sat up again. "Ready to repeat again, Cap'n?"
With a nod, he once again began to babble in French.
"C'est un soir..."
"Sest oon sore…"
"C'est un soir charmant, ma chéri."
"Sest oon sore charmont, ma sheri."
He bit his lip for a moment. "Close enough. Congratulations, Cap'n Sparrow. You've now learned two phrases in French."
"Thank ye, lad." I clapped him on the back. "Couldn'ta done it without ye."
"Glad to be of service, Cap'n," he glanced at the window. "Well…love to stay and teach ya more French…but I told the Cap'n I'd be back by now. Gotta hurry on. Good luck in Grenada."
Back to the ship? What kind of Captain is that? Well…the lad may be quick with his mouth, but perhaps his cutlass wasn't quite so effective. Probably for his own protection…
"Good night, Pierre."
He waved, placed a few coins on the counter and hurried out the door, disappearing into the dark night.
Interesting cabin boy he was…
Oh well, back to me rum…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(Kendra's POV…)
"Stupid figures…" I muttered to myself. I'd cooped myself up in my cabin since I'd returned from my trip to the tavern. And the task of estimating the cost of restocking the Dilettante was proving nearly impossible. I suppose I was a bit too drunk...and Captain Jack Sparrow refused to get out of my thoughts.
Curse him for ever entering them.
Narrowing my eyes and reflecting, I found my thoughts settling on his eyes and face. The kohl surrounding his eyes just seemed to draw my gaze…I resisted quite well. It didn't seem proper for 'Pierre' to stare at a man like I would.
Well…like the interesting little pirate captain I was…
Why must I find men attractive?!
It makes life so very…extremely…irritating. My head had been swimming at the tavern…with the rum and with the sight of the roguish Captain Jack Sparrow. Surely he was quite used to female company…especially with his request to learn a compliment in French. And I actually gave him one too…
Shaking my head and resting my chin on my bent elbow, I felt my eyes starting to glaze over. I should've given him an insult or something offensive…really…
Well, I guess I'm forgetting that he saw me as Pierre and not as the woman I suppose lies somewhere deep within me, it wasn't an intended offense… Not that the potential feminine woman'll be appearing anytime soon. Not at this rate anyway. I was becoming more emotional, that was true, but I was becoming quite skilled at ignoring and controlling my fickle emotions.
To think, three-and-twenty, yet still fighting for control of my emotions…
Hmm…
I think the grains of wood in my wall are starting to crack…
A short yell caught my attention and I jumped to my feet, shoving back my chair in the process. I think that yell came from Kenneth…no one else has that low of a bass…
Now is not the time to reflect on his attributes, Kendra…
Nor is it the time to sit here and argue with myself.
In a heartbeat I had my belt strapped on and I rushed out, heading straight for the deck. The familiar clang of metal filled my ears…along with the yells of frustration and fury…
Why did I only keep a few of the crew on board? If we were all here, this force could easily be dealt with…But with only the four of us…
Mere feet from the deck, as I was hurrying up the stairs, something very hard and small hit the back of my skull.
Powerless to do little else, I felt my body go a little numb as I fell on my face. I couldn't even let out a curse, or a yell…or anything.
Hearing the chuckling above me, it seemed I had fallen victim to the blunt end of a cutlass. At least I hadn't been decapitated…
"Loud enough to wake the dead," the quickly fading male voice laughed, his boots stepping over and then clomping past me. Probably to check for others down below…
It was getting harder and harder to stay conscious…but I had to fight this. Laying here, prone, while my crew fought for the sanctity of the Dilettante…
"So, the famous Captain Ken…" a virile - and quite unforgettable - voice said, perking my attention and giving me something to listen to, and I stayed conscious because of it.
Not that I wanted to hear this…
"What do ye want?" Kenneth growled. His voice hinted at the immense pain he was in.
Not Kenneth…not any of my crew…not me!
Please not beautiful Kenneth…
Gah…stupid feminine whims…
The man laughed. "I've waited for this moment for a long time…and now that it's here, I find meself rather disappointed in ye. 'Brave and fierce', hmph! Tis a pity to see such a legend deflated… throw 'em overboard boys, and make sure 'e won't wake up ever again." He let out another deep laugh, and there were several laughs accompanying it, but they were abruptly cut off as I heard a scuffle and Kenneth's voice once more…
"Ye'll suffer for this! I won't go down without a fight!"
More metal clanged and clashed…then the awful sound was heard…
Flesh being cut through…quickly and cleanly…
A short sound…yet so very heart wrenching…
Then a limp body hit the deck and the men laughed once more, their leader scoffing and sheathing his sword after no doubt wiping the previous owner's blood on his own garments…
If I had more control of my senses I'm sure I would've cried…but…I couldn't even do more than softly breathe and listen in horror…
Kenneth was dead.
Dead…
No doubt everyone else was a prisoner, or dead. Except the part of my crew on shore. If only I can get my senses and swim back to shore…
There was no way I could beat that many men. It was no doubt an entire crew. I was skilled, that was true…but I could not defeat an entire crew. Not without a varied terrain that I knew well, yet they had no knowledge of. Even then…considering that I couldn't make myself do much of anything just yet, there was no hope of me being able to help.
"Drag that one off the deck…" the leader continued to speak, but I closed my eyes and let my senses dull…
Being awake would make me vulnerable to their fetid pleasure…
For a moment I jerked in surprise at the cold of the water…but then my senses dulled again…and I prayed to whatever god there was that I make it to shore alive…
