Disclaimer: *notices surroundings and pauses in her packing of ropes, explosives and other random objects* Howdy! Er…Aye mateys! *forces grin* Nothin' to see here, now just keep looking' and perhaps you'll er…well…*glances back at supplies* Get on and read the fanfic, will ye?!
Authors Note: Hope no one is too confused. Remember to ask questions if things get confusing. I may not answer them in direct form, but I'll try to address them asap, whether in author's notes…*grins* or in the story. Enjoy!
Four-Sided Eyes
(a.k.a. Pirates of the Caribbean: Curse of the fangirl)
Chapter 6: Growing Lads
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(Jack's POV…)
Getting a bartender to work my way this time around was a much simpler matter. Pierre would ask me what I wanted, I would tell him, and he in turn would order it. All that was required of me was to pay the bill. And it seemed rather cheap. Even with Pierre wolfing down as much as could possibly fit in his small frame. Where did it all go?
Growing lad, can't forget that. He's a growing lad…
Aside from Pierre's horrendous hunger, I could definitely get used to having Pierre speak all the French for me…
But if I get too comfortable with Pierre doing all of the talking…then my grand reputation as Captain Jack Sparrow, capable captain of the Black Pearl would suffer.
A possible solution: Pierre would teach me French up until I could speak the language adequately. Glancing over at the boy, who was eagerly eating his meal, a small grin came onto my face.
You, confusing little Pierre, will serve me well. Very well indeed.
Seeing as though he had no other place to go, he would likely become a permanent part of the crew. I could only wonder what he'd look like as a full grown man. No doubt he'd still be just as wiry. But he could get very tall too. He still had yet to come onto his growth spurt. Yes, Pierre would be a very helpful addition to the Pearl's crew.
"Captain Sparrow?" the lad asked.
I turned my gaze to him. It must be important if he had paused in his meal. "Aye, lad?"
"Is something the matter? You still have most of your food left."
As if food was the most important matter to deal with…apparently he really was going through a growth spurt.
"Nothing's the matter, Pierre. Will that be enough for you?"
He nodded happily. "Aye Cap'n. Quite enough. I just…been stuck eating galley food and this is so good…" He looked contentedly down at the stack of bones on his plate. "Thank ye for feeding me so well."
I nodded. "My pleasure, lad. Would be a crime to starve a growing boy like yourself. And if food is all you ever need to be content, then you'll be one of the easiest men to please on deck." Leaning forward and grinning in a suggestive manner, I decided to see how the lad would react. This could be my best chance to see if Pierre was indeed a lass. "Most of the other men desire a little extra company when they come ashore."
Pierre smiled weakly. "I've seen enough of that, Cap'n. And I…" his cheeks darkened a bit. "I don't think I'll need that kind of…company for quite some time."
A chuckle escaped me. The lad keeps giving answers that I can't decipher completely. It's almost like he knows I'm trying to figure him out. Curse that intuitive nature of his, if that in fact was the truth.
"We'll see lad, we'll see." With that, I picked up my mug of rum and effectively ended the conversation. Now I could take in his last comment.
If Pierre was a girl, he could've sensed that any other comment would've given away his -or her - sex. And if that was the case, then Pierre was trying to keep that little fact a secret. Whether it was by his belief that there was a reason to hide his sex, or if he had something to hide since he was a girl…
Now that started a whole new train of thought.
Great…
Even more to occupy my mind.
Pierre, you truly are my enigma.
Shaking my head ever so slightly, I looked over at the subject in question. Pierre was now picking at his teeth, his plate emptied of all possible edible items. I don't think my men had even eaten that much…even the ones twice Pierre's size.
All the more reason to believe Pierre to be a growing boy…
But that wrap…
It refused to leave my mind.
Might as well ask now. Men - or women - seem to be more open after a hearty meal and plenty of rum. And I noticed that Pierre had at least drained one mug.
"So, Pierre," I let the question hang.
He looked up and grinned broadly. "Aye, Cap'n? What do ye want to know?"
Good. He seems pretty loose. It's rather amazing what men will admit when drunk.
"I noticed that you had some kind of bandage across your chest. What's it for?"
Pierre thought for a moment. More than likely in drunken confusion. Then he smiled and pointed to the small gap in his ripped shirt. He had stitched it up a bit, but it mostly was still open.
"Oh, this? Just a nasty scar I got when I was younger. Been told to cover it up, so I do." He shrugged and nearly lost his balance with his efforts, "Just been me custom, I guess. The wound was never a pretty one."
A wound, hm? Seeing that he was drunk…perhaps I had been mistaken about suspecting him to be a girl…
"How'd you get the wound, Pierre?"
He thought deeply. "Not entirely sure. Think I caught the wrong end of a cutlass. Was in me first battle." His eyes darkened. "The memory is ratha' fuzzy…but I was hardly able ta hold me cutlass up and defend meself." A small unreadable expression of agitation or perhaps pent up anger flashed across his face. "One moment I'm fightin' like ever'one else, and the next I wakes up with the bandage."
I nodded softly. "Does it pain you still?"
"Not anymore," Pierre put his elbows on the table and rested his chin on his upraised hands. "at least…I don't think it does." His eyes darkened, but this time with drunken confusion. "Dunno anymore Cap'n…" a small laugh escaped him. "Think I drained that mug a' rum a bit too fast. Can't think quite righ'." He hiccupped for a moment, then covered his mouth, grinning as wide as many a drunk men. "Thank ye again for breakfas', Cap'n…"
"My pleasure," I smiled and saw that my plate was missing. Glancing over at Pierre's side of the table, it was quickly found. Pierre had taken my neglect as a sign to eat that as well.
How much could one lad of his size eat?
I guess Pierre is a one of a kind.
With both of us fed, I put the money down on the table and gestured to Pierre. "Come on Pierre, time to get supplies and the like."
He nodded and stumbled to his feet, apologizing and laughing to himself. I guess he's quite an amusing drunk cabin boy.
On our way out, Pierre kept running into other occupants of the tavern, and practically fell into the lap of one man. I sighed and disentangled the lad, who was muttering apologies no doubt, in French and English, then tipped my head to the man.
"Sorry about that, we'll be on our way now. Come on, Pierre."
Pierre smiled stupidly up at me. "Thank ye, Cap'n! Just can't hold me own two feetsss…that's all…"
With a soft chuckle at Pierre's antics, I kept a tight grip on his arm and helped the lad out of the tavern and into the streets of Grenada, where I dragged him along with me to get the supplies the Black Pearl would be needing for her next voyage.
Reflecting on Pierre's hunger back at the tavern, I seriously began to consider doubling the amount of food…
Remember Jack, growing boy…growing boy.
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(Kendra's POV…)
This food was great. I dug deep into it and reveled. I hadn't realized how very hungry I was until the food was placed in front of me.
Halfway through my plate, I realized that Jack was watching me. Even for a split second. As I slowly lifted my gaze and paused in my food, I saw that he was looking contemplatively to the side. Always thinking, Captain Jack Sparrow was. Did I provoke so much thought? That wouldn't be good… he could suspect my secret. Might as well find a conversation topic…break his train of thought.
Seeing his mostly full plate, I smiled to myself, then regained a passive expression.
"Captain Sparrow?" I inquired.
He looked over to me. "Aye, lad?"
"Is something the matter? You still have most of your food left."
Sparrow seemed to scan me over for a moment, then kept a nonchalant tone.
"Nothing's the matter, Pierre. Will that be enough for you?"
Always wise to be the happy lad. So I nodded enthusiastically. "Aye Cap'n. Quite enough. I just…been stuck eating galley food and this is so good…" I paused and smiled contentedly at my most empty plate. "Thank ye for feeding me so well."
Jack bobbed his head. "My pleasure, lad. Would be a crime to starve a growing boy like yourself. And if food is all you ever need to be content, then you'll be one of the easiest men to please on deck."
Now what is he up to?
He was leaning forward and grinning in a rather…er…oh no. He's going to try to make me blush or give away my femininity. Well, I'll prove him wrong.
"Most of the other men desire a little extra company when they come ashore."
Well…Pierre is a young lad. I can be embarrassed about such a subject, but not offended or horribly shy.
Putting on a weak smile, I managed to put the least bit of insecurity in my voice. "I've seen enough of that, Cap'n. And I…" a slight blush came anyway. "I don't think I'll need that kind of…company for quite some time."
He chuckled and I knew I was victorious. He thought me to be the young lad…not the wizened woman I happen to be.
"We'll see lad, we'll see."
Captain Sparrow then cut off the conversation, no doubt to return to his thoughts, picking up his mug of rum and downing a bit more of it.
Well, I can think as well. I returned to finishing off my plate, only to have my gaze fall on his half-eaten plate. Glancing up at my new Captain, I decided he wasn't going to be too angry at me. I can always pull the hungry cabin boy plea…growing boys have to eat, don't they? So I snatched up his plate and cleaned off the remaining bits as well.
Waste not, want not.
So…if I was to keep Sparrow out of my hair for a time, I'd have to no doubt give him some answers. Taking a swig of my rum, an idea came to me. Sparrow thinks me to be a young boy. A cabin boy of my size would easily become intoxicated with this much rum. I barely resisted grinning from ear to ear. My 'drunken' revelations would hold back his curiosity for a time.
So I took deep draughts of my rum, and lowering my glass once, I spotted a gaze that had likely been on me the entire time.
Across the tavern sat Finnan Delwyn, my second mate. I put a finger to my lips, effectively telling him to not break my act. He nodded slightly and kept a sideways watch on me.
I had truly trained my crew well.
Sparrow was deeply absorbed in his thoughts, so I grabbed a scrap of napkin and asked a passing serving wench for a quill to write with. She gave me an odd look, but obliged me. Luckily for me, Sparrow was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice. Quickly I scrawled out a note - in French to ensure it's secrecy from Sparrow - telling my crew of my predicament and that I would be going with Sparrow in the hopes that I would be able to find the Dilettante and enlist Sparrow's help in returning it to us all. I proposed meeting back in a year's time in Grenada. I gave my apologies for not telling them in person, and emphasized that I was to be unknown to them. If they wished to be free of my service, now was the perfect moment. That last line left a bittersweet flavor…and I decided to end the note. Finishing it quickly, I slid the quill under a plate and slipped the note into my sleeve, sure to keep it hidden.
I lowered my gaze and continued to pick at my meal, making sure that not a scrap of food was left. During this task, Sparrow must have finished his thinking.
"So, Pierre," he let his voice trail off.
Good idea to play the drunk…I put on a silly grin and looked up. "Aye, Cap'n? What do ye want to know?"
I employed all of my acting skills and imitated every drunken move I could think of. Careful not to overdo it, I smiled stupidly and kept my balance unsteady.
"I noticed that you had some kind of bandage across your chest. What's it for?"
So, Sparrow does suspect. And he expects a drunk lad to speak freely…well, I suppose I can speak truthfully to a point.
I had stitched a bit while waiting for our meal, though it did seem a bit odd to do amongst all the chaos. I pointed to my wrap, and was sure to keep up the drunken act.
Slurred speech was oh so much fun…"Oh, this? Just a nasty scar I got when I was younger. Been told to cover it up, so I do." I shrugged and almost overdid my wavering balance, tipping dangerously to my left. But to give away my concern for falling over would be to admit that I was not drunk. And that was not something I wished to admit. "Just been me custom, I guess. The wound was never a pretty one."
"How'd you get the wound, Pierre?"
Time to drunkenly ponder again. I put a finger to my chin and tapped it a few times. "Not entirely sure. Think I caught the wrong end of a cutlass. Was in me first battle." My mind thought back to the dark day where I actually had gotten a deep scar across my chest. "The memory is ratha' fuzzy…but I was hardly able ta hold me cutlass up and defend meself." Stupid pirate who cut my chest…it had only been a wound for the fellow cabin boys to mock me about. 'Kendra's takin' so long to heal cause she's a girl!' I can't get too distracted…though a drunk lad could easily do such a thing. "One moment I'm fightin' like ever'one else, and the next I wakes up with the bandage."
He bobbed his head a bit. "Does it pain you still?"
"Not anymore," I was tired of wavering about, so I plunked my elbows down on the table and rested his chin on my upraised hands. "at least…I don't think it does." That stupid memory returned to me…the searing pain. The shame at having my captain have to see my insignificant female assets…he hadn't insulted my figure. But the look in his eye… it would never leave me. I suppose after that incident I had given up all fairy-tale like dreams of being a noble lady shimmering and beautiful. I was Kendra, the rugged pirate lass, and so help me, I would be proud of it. I would make a name for myself…Oh yes, can't forget Jack for too long. "Dunno anymore Cap'n…" can't get too serious, so I let out a small laugh. "Think I drained that mug a' rum a bit too fast. Can't think quite righ'." A hiccup showed itself at the right moment, and I covered his mouth, grinning as wide as I'd seen many drunk men smile. "Thank ye again for breakfas', Cap'n…"
"My pleasure," he smiled and finally noted his relocated plate. His gaze traveled along and stopped on my side of the table, reaching his now clean plate.
He thought about something for a moment, then put some money on the table and gestured to me.
"Come on Pierre, time to get supplies and the like."
I bobbed my head and stumbled to my feet, letting out apologies and laughing at my clumsiness. Not all of it was an act. I guess the rum was a bit stronger here.
Here comes the challenge…following behind Sparrow, I made sure to weave back and forth, bumping into tables, occupants, and anything there was to be seen. Finnan glanced up and I put a sillier grin on. I came near him, then he stuck out his foot, no doubt having seen me scrawl the note and knowing my plans. I let myself fall onto his lap.
Normally, this would have been all very embarrassing. But since I was a little more giddy from the rum, and that I refused to let my grief overcome me, I slipped the note out of my sleeve and inside his vest, caught off guard as my mutters of apologies in English and instructions to read the note in private and share it with the crew in French were cut off by a pair of very strong hands.
Sparrow's hands.
He picked me up with ease.
How nice his hands felt…
Stop that!
Bloody mutinous body…
Sparrow smiled and half laughed his apology. "Sorry about that, we'll be on our way now. Come on, Pierre."
I grinned stupidly up at him. "Thank ye, Cap'n! Just can't hold me own two feetsss…that's all…"
This all must have been very amusing for Sparrow, as he chuckled again, and helped me out of the tavern, but kept a tight grip on my arm.
Over the course of the next few hours we traveled to various shops and I mumbled phrases in French for him, sure to keep them garbled and plenty drunken. No reason to let my secret off so easy. Especially after I'd done so well and kept Sparrow so well deceived.
Of course, he could be deceiving me, but…time will only tell.
At least my crew would know what was going on. I had not deserted them entirely. I refused to be mutinous in any way.
Aside from the fact that my arm began to grow comfortable and long for more warmth from Sparrow…
Growls of frustration were barely held back.
Just barely.
