Author's note: I'm going to try to follow the movie as closely as I can, of
course, I will be adding my own elements as well. Sorry if you think it
stinks! P.S. I have no rights to the Pirates of the Caribbean or
anything Disney. Ana is my own invention though, so hands off!
Ana looked longingly out at the crystal blue Caribbean waters that spread to the horizon. She sighed sadly before turning her head away from the window, it had been so long since she had enjoyed those days at sea with her family. She walked across the brightly lit room and picked up the ladies gloves she had been embroidering before she had been distracted by the musical fanfare that was coming from the fort. Fingering the small red sparrows that shown vibrantly in the sunlight that flooded the room, Ana traced the tiny birds' wings trying to ignore the stinging sensation of tears in her eyes. 'How silly I'm being,' she thought, 'Getting so emotional over a pair of gloves.' She sat down in her hard wooden chair and set about rethreading her needle to return to her work.
It had been six years since she had come to Port Royal. She did not come by choice, if there had been a way for her to live on the sea, she would gladly have chosen that route. Living in the settlement was lonely and difficult. For the most part, no one took notice of her, only of the goods that she produced for the residents. She was a skilled seamstress for being so young, and especially clever at creating new recipes for food that would stay fresh on long ship voyages, particularly important to the people that worked in the harbor. Any one who entered her shop merely gave her their order, paid for their goods, and left without speaking to her anymore. Ana had become accustomed to this treatment. She did not prefer it but thought it best not to concern herself with the acceptance of Port Royal. She had used a good portion of her inheritance to open her shop, which was both a bakery and a tailoring establishment. During the week, the two rooms were usually bustling with customers, but on days like this, when there was a public affair up at the fort, the streets of the city were virtually empty.
Ana appreciated the quiet. She would have liked to have had her mother there, sitting by her and maybe telling her a story while they worked on the gloves together, but the pain of that thought made the stinging return to her eyes and she once again put down the glove. "I can't finish this now," she said aloud. She set the glove by its mate on the table, closed her thread box, and made for the stairs that lead up to her sleeping quarters that were above her store. She could hear the wind begin to pick up and thought she should close the shudders over all of the windows. She had just shut the last window in the bakery when she heard a number of shots being fired. Her eyes widened and she hurried up the stairs and threw open her trunk. As her hand grasped the sheath of her sword, she heard a soldier shout from below, "Look lively men!" 'So they're looking for someone. Well, he'll be unlucky when they catch him, whoever it is,' she thought grimly. Although she never voiced it, in part because there was no one for her to say it to, Ana wasn't incredibly fond of the Royal Navy. She had her reasons. Attaching the sheath of her sword to the belt under her overskirt, she bolted down the narrow stairway and headed straight out her door, not remembering to lock it behind her. She followed the sounds of running footsteps and glimpsed a number of red coats turning a corner. She ran to follow them.
Hiding herself behind empty barrels that lined the back walls of the shops, she watched through the spaces in between. The men were trying to break into Mr. Brown's blacksmith quarters. 'What do they think they're doing?' Ana wondered, 'They're only going to find an old drunk. Master Turner is likely to still be at the fort, I'm sure he would have wanted to see the Commodore's reaction to his new sword. He worked hard on it.' Will Turner was one of the few people that had ever shown Ana any courtesy in Port Royal. 'He won't be very happy when they see what they're doing to his door,' she thought. Suddenly, the men broke through and she was able to see who was in command: Commodore Norrington! 'If he's with them then that means Master Turner could possibly be in there! What on earth is happening?' The soldiers darted into the workshop and she strained her ears to hear the voices that were being carried out of the open door way.
"Excellent work Mr. Brown. You've assisted in the capture of a dangerous fugitive," the Commodore said pompously.
"Just doing my civil duty, sir," slurred the drunken blacksmith.
Ana snorted. 'Of all the.' She was cut off by what Commodore Norrington said next. "Well, I trust you'll always remember this as the day that Captain Jack Sparrow almost escaped. Take him away."
Ana's eyes widened. "Jack!" she whispered. She hurried back towards her shop with the Commodore's final words ringing in her ears.
Ana looked longingly out at the crystal blue Caribbean waters that spread to the horizon. She sighed sadly before turning her head away from the window, it had been so long since she had enjoyed those days at sea with her family. She walked across the brightly lit room and picked up the ladies gloves she had been embroidering before she had been distracted by the musical fanfare that was coming from the fort. Fingering the small red sparrows that shown vibrantly in the sunlight that flooded the room, Ana traced the tiny birds' wings trying to ignore the stinging sensation of tears in her eyes. 'How silly I'm being,' she thought, 'Getting so emotional over a pair of gloves.' She sat down in her hard wooden chair and set about rethreading her needle to return to her work.
It had been six years since she had come to Port Royal. She did not come by choice, if there had been a way for her to live on the sea, she would gladly have chosen that route. Living in the settlement was lonely and difficult. For the most part, no one took notice of her, only of the goods that she produced for the residents. She was a skilled seamstress for being so young, and especially clever at creating new recipes for food that would stay fresh on long ship voyages, particularly important to the people that worked in the harbor. Any one who entered her shop merely gave her their order, paid for their goods, and left without speaking to her anymore. Ana had become accustomed to this treatment. She did not prefer it but thought it best not to concern herself with the acceptance of Port Royal. She had used a good portion of her inheritance to open her shop, which was both a bakery and a tailoring establishment. During the week, the two rooms were usually bustling with customers, but on days like this, when there was a public affair up at the fort, the streets of the city were virtually empty.
Ana appreciated the quiet. She would have liked to have had her mother there, sitting by her and maybe telling her a story while they worked on the gloves together, but the pain of that thought made the stinging return to her eyes and she once again put down the glove. "I can't finish this now," she said aloud. She set the glove by its mate on the table, closed her thread box, and made for the stairs that lead up to her sleeping quarters that were above her store. She could hear the wind begin to pick up and thought she should close the shudders over all of the windows. She had just shut the last window in the bakery when she heard a number of shots being fired. Her eyes widened and she hurried up the stairs and threw open her trunk. As her hand grasped the sheath of her sword, she heard a soldier shout from below, "Look lively men!" 'So they're looking for someone. Well, he'll be unlucky when they catch him, whoever it is,' she thought grimly. Although she never voiced it, in part because there was no one for her to say it to, Ana wasn't incredibly fond of the Royal Navy. She had her reasons. Attaching the sheath of her sword to the belt under her overskirt, she bolted down the narrow stairway and headed straight out her door, not remembering to lock it behind her. She followed the sounds of running footsteps and glimpsed a number of red coats turning a corner. She ran to follow them.
Hiding herself behind empty barrels that lined the back walls of the shops, she watched through the spaces in between. The men were trying to break into Mr. Brown's blacksmith quarters. 'What do they think they're doing?' Ana wondered, 'They're only going to find an old drunk. Master Turner is likely to still be at the fort, I'm sure he would have wanted to see the Commodore's reaction to his new sword. He worked hard on it.' Will Turner was one of the few people that had ever shown Ana any courtesy in Port Royal. 'He won't be very happy when they see what they're doing to his door,' she thought. Suddenly, the men broke through and she was able to see who was in command: Commodore Norrington! 'If he's with them then that means Master Turner could possibly be in there! What on earth is happening?' The soldiers darted into the workshop and she strained her ears to hear the voices that were being carried out of the open door way.
"Excellent work Mr. Brown. You've assisted in the capture of a dangerous fugitive," the Commodore said pompously.
"Just doing my civil duty, sir," slurred the drunken blacksmith.
Ana snorted. 'Of all the.' She was cut off by what Commodore Norrington said next. "Well, I trust you'll always remember this as the day that Captain Jack Sparrow almost escaped. Take him away."
Ana's eyes widened. "Jack!" she whispered. She hurried back towards her shop with the Commodore's final words ringing in her ears.
