[a/n from AhiFlame: Wow . . . this has gotta be a record! Two chapters in
two days! Amazing for us to do . . . simply amazing. And jackfan2, I
expect to see your post ASAP, savvy? *menacing look*]
Chapter 6
Ana-Maria fought against the strong winds aloft for her life, clamping both hands tightly around the guide rope. She hung there for what seemed like an eternity, until her arms began to shake with the exertion of holding her body weight up.
She slowly collected all of her strength and shifted one hand up ever so slightly higher on the rope. Gritting her teeth in stubborn concentration, she slowly ascended the rope, inching her way closer to the yard from which she had fallen.
~*~
Jack grimaced quite noticeably in pain as the girl tightened the bandages around his torso to help stop the bleeding. He bit down on his lips to prevent himself from yelping in pain again. Rather to his dismay, the girl noticed.
"Sorry."
"S'alright." Jack muttered, taking a deep breath. There was a slight pause of silence as the girl finished tying up the bandage. "What's yer name anyway, lass?"
"Chelsea." The girl replied quietly. She looked about to say something more, but was interrupted as Twigg appeared at the cell door, accompanied by Grapple.
"Time's up." Grapple growled.
The girl slowly rose to her feet, glancing back somewhat worriedly at Jack. She then looked back at the grubby pirates standing before her. "Don't you have better living accommodations on this ship for him?"
Twigg and Grapple just laughed at the question.
"What's so funny?" Chelsea demanded.
The pirates didn't answer. Instead, Grapple grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the cell. Twigg followed, closing and locking the cell door behind them.
Jack watched them leave with tired eyes. Chelsea struggled slightly against the uncomfortably tight grip on her arm, but of course made no actual progress in getting released. Once they were out of sight and he couldn't hear their footsteps anymore, he sighed hollowly to himself and leaned back against the inner hull. He knew his fate all too well; what he didn't know is when it would be employed . . .
~*~
Ana-Maria reached the lines leading down to the deck and sighed to herself, glad she had gotten out of the predicament not too worse for the wear. True, her arms felt like they were on fire, but aside from that, she was okay. She glanced down at those standing on the deck below, and was disappointed to see that they were all clustered in one group, looking up at her. She growled angrily to herself.
"What're ye lookin' at?!" She yelled down to the group. "I didn't fall, so git back t' work!" She spat.
Not a moment later, the group dispersed back to their tasks, leaving only four left looking at her. She sighed agitatedly, then began to make her way down to the deck.
The second her feet connected with the deck, Will and Elizabeth rushed forward, incessantly asking if she was okay. Bootstrap stood further back, inquiring the same thing through the look on his face.
"'m fine . . . FINE!" Ana-Maria snapped, pushing away from them and heading towards nowhere in particular.
"Ana-Maria." Gibbs called.
Ana-Maria stopped dead in her tracks. "What is it, Gibbs?" She asked, fighting to keep her voice level and neutral.
"Ye best leave. I'll take care 'o this." Gibbs whispered to the other three, who reluctantly nodded and walked off.
Gibbs stepped up behind Ana-Maria and placed a hand on her shoulder, which was quickly shaken off. "What happened up there, lass?"
"Th' wind came up." Ana-Maria muttered, anger slipping into her voice without her wanting it to.
"That all?"
Ana-Maria nodded slightly.
"You miss 'im, don't ya?"
Ana-Maria's head shot up and she looked at Gibbs with a questioning gaze. However, she quickly masked the question with indifference. "We all do." She answered simply.
Gibbs nodded. "Alright then." He said, starting to walk off.
"Gibbs!"
He stopped and turned back to face her. "Yes?"
"One question."
Gibbs nodded and walked back over to her.
"Does the Pearl seem . . . um . . . different to you?" She asked, not quite sure how to put her question into words.
Gibbs thought silently for a moment before answering. "Nay."
"Oh." Ana-Maria said simply. She was beginning to question whether she was loosing her mind or if she really was the only one who could tell the difference in the ship. She really could have sworn that a more dreary side of the ship was making its appearance . . .
Gibb's voice jolted her from her thoughts, but she didn't hear exactly what he had said. "What?"
"I asked if it seemed different t' ye." Gibbs repeated.
"Nay." Ana-Maria said quickly, not wanting to sound superstitious.
Gibbs nodded and proceeded back to the helm.
~*~
"Captain Sparrow?" A soft voice asked, breaking through the darkness.
Jack's eyebrows twitched a bit in irritation-he was already suffering from his wounds and would have preferred to sleep longer. With a silent sigh, he opened his eyes slowly, only to find Chelsea standing outside his cell and looking in at him with a somewhat nervous and worried expression. Jack noticed that the lantern had already burned out, making him wonder how long he had been asleep.
"I've brought you some food." Chelsea said when she saw his figure shift in the darkness.
"Thanks very much, luv." Jack drawled tiredly.
"I'd rather prefer you not call me 'luv'." Chelsea said quickly.
Jack nodded. "Alright, since ye 'elped me, we 'ave an accord."
Chelsea allowed herself a small smile. She then pulled a ring of keys from the sash around her waist and went about unlocking the cell door. After the lock had clicked open, she maneuvered the door open, while balancing a small tray of food with her other hand. Jack shifted as if her were about to stand, but Chelsea stopped him with her words.
"No, no. Don't get up. I'll bring it to you." She said quickly, walking into the cell, holding the tray. She walked over and then kneeled in front of Jack, offering him the tray.
"Thank you." Jack muttered sincerely, accepting the proffered tray and examining its contents. A few hard biscuits, some small pieces of meat- most likely salted pork, and a mug of grog.
"Sorry that it's not much-"
"S'fine, lass. Couldn't 'ope fer better." Jack said quickly, a heavy slur still accenting his voice.
Chelsea rocked back on her heels, spreading her skirts out neatly around her.
Jack picked up one of the biscuits and was about to take a bite, when another thought crossed his mind. He looked up at Chelsea. "Y'know, yer're not required t' stay 'ere. Ye can go back t' yer nice cabin . . . s'probably better'n gettin' in wit' th' likes o' me."
Chelsea shook her head earnestly. "No. I'd rather stay down here with you-seems you're the only trustworthy man on this whole ship."
Jack took a bite of the biscuit and thought silently for a moment. After swallowing, he spoke. "So, 'ow'd ye wind up on thi' ship wit' this lot? Surely not by choice?"
Chelsea shook her head again. "No. I was sailing with my parents on a merchant vessel bound for England. My father had a mind to start a new business there, so he took my mother and I with him. In the middle of our crossing, an unmarked vessel came up behind us. Since it was flying friendly colors, naturally our captain thought nothing of it . . . that is, until the ship came up alongside and fired her guns at us. She dropped the British colors and hoisted a black flag. I must admit, when they boarded, I was more terrified than ever before."
Jack nodded, still eating and listening intently to her tale.
"They boarded and started plundering our cargo-mostly silks and the such. Then, before they left, rounded up the crew and . . ." Here she paused, choking a bit on the words. "Slaughtered them in cold blood. They hadn't even tried to stop them, and yet they were killed all the same. The pirates took me with them, hoping to sell me to someone-most likely a brothel." At this point, tears were welling dangerously high in Chelsea's eyes.
"And yer parents?" Jack asked carefully, figuring he already knew the answer.
"Dead. Murdered with the crew."
Jack nodded solemnly. "'m sorry, lass."
"So am I." Chelsea said sadly. Then, her mood seemed to lighten. "However, that's in the past. What's important now is to figure out how to escape from this vessel-how are you feeling?" She asked, changing her own subject instantaneously.
Jack sighed. "Tired." He answered truthfully, placing the tray on the floor.
Chelsea glanced down at the tray and was pleasantly surprised to see that most everything had been eaten. All that remained was a few pieces of meat and crumbs of bread; but not a drop of grog. "Well, that's to be expected, what with that bullet wound and all." She said with a half smile, collecting the tray. "I'll leave you to rest then." She said as she stood.
"Much obliged." Jack mumbled, already half asleep.
Chelsea turned and quietly left the cell, then continued up to the deck.
Chapter 6
Ana-Maria fought against the strong winds aloft for her life, clamping both hands tightly around the guide rope. She hung there for what seemed like an eternity, until her arms began to shake with the exertion of holding her body weight up.
She slowly collected all of her strength and shifted one hand up ever so slightly higher on the rope. Gritting her teeth in stubborn concentration, she slowly ascended the rope, inching her way closer to the yard from which she had fallen.
~*~
Jack grimaced quite noticeably in pain as the girl tightened the bandages around his torso to help stop the bleeding. He bit down on his lips to prevent himself from yelping in pain again. Rather to his dismay, the girl noticed.
"Sorry."
"S'alright." Jack muttered, taking a deep breath. There was a slight pause of silence as the girl finished tying up the bandage. "What's yer name anyway, lass?"
"Chelsea." The girl replied quietly. She looked about to say something more, but was interrupted as Twigg appeared at the cell door, accompanied by Grapple.
"Time's up." Grapple growled.
The girl slowly rose to her feet, glancing back somewhat worriedly at Jack. She then looked back at the grubby pirates standing before her. "Don't you have better living accommodations on this ship for him?"
Twigg and Grapple just laughed at the question.
"What's so funny?" Chelsea demanded.
The pirates didn't answer. Instead, Grapple grabbed her by the arm and dragged her out of the cell. Twigg followed, closing and locking the cell door behind them.
Jack watched them leave with tired eyes. Chelsea struggled slightly against the uncomfortably tight grip on her arm, but of course made no actual progress in getting released. Once they were out of sight and he couldn't hear their footsteps anymore, he sighed hollowly to himself and leaned back against the inner hull. He knew his fate all too well; what he didn't know is when it would be employed . . .
~*~
Ana-Maria reached the lines leading down to the deck and sighed to herself, glad she had gotten out of the predicament not too worse for the wear. True, her arms felt like they were on fire, but aside from that, she was okay. She glanced down at those standing on the deck below, and was disappointed to see that they were all clustered in one group, looking up at her. She growled angrily to herself.
"What're ye lookin' at?!" She yelled down to the group. "I didn't fall, so git back t' work!" She spat.
Not a moment later, the group dispersed back to their tasks, leaving only four left looking at her. She sighed agitatedly, then began to make her way down to the deck.
The second her feet connected with the deck, Will and Elizabeth rushed forward, incessantly asking if she was okay. Bootstrap stood further back, inquiring the same thing through the look on his face.
"'m fine . . . FINE!" Ana-Maria snapped, pushing away from them and heading towards nowhere in particular.
"Ana-Maria." Gibbs called.
Ana-Maria stopped dead in her tracks. "What is it, Gibbs?" She asked, fighting to keep her voice level and neutral.
"Ye best leave. I'll take care 'o this." Gibbs whispered to the other three, who reluctantly nodded and walked off.
Gibbs stepped up behind Ana-Maria and placed a hand on her shoulder, which was quickly shaken off. "What happened up there, lass?"
"Th' wind came up." Ana-Maria muttered, anger slipping into her voice without her wanting it to.
"That all?"
Ana-Maria nodded slightly.
"You miss 'im, don't ya?"
Ana-Maria's head shot up and she looked at Gibbs with a questioning gaze. However, she quickly masked the question with indifference. "We all do." She answered simply.
Gibbs nodded. "Alright then." He said, starting to walk off.
"Gibbs!"
He stopped and turned back to face her. "Yes?"
"One question."
Gibbs nodded and walked back over to her.
"Does the Pearl seem . . . um . . . different to you?" She asked, not quite sure how to put her question into words.
Gibbs thought silently for a moment before answering. "Nay."
"Oh." Ana-Maria said simply. She was beginning to question whether she was loosing her mind or if she really was the only one who could tell the difference in the ship. She really could have sworn that a more dreary side of the ship was making its appearance . . .
Gibb's voice jolted her from her thoughts, but she didn't hear exactly what he had said. "What?"
"I asked if it seemed different t' ye." Gibbs repeated.
"Nay." Ana-Maria said quickly, not wanting to sound superstitious.
Gibbs nodded and proceeded back to the helm.
~*~
"Captain Sparrow?" A soft voice asked, breaking through the darkness.
Jack's eyebrows twitched a bit in irritation-he was already suffering from his wounds and would have preferred to sleep longer. With a silent sigh, he opened his eyes slowly, only to find Chelsea standing outside his cell and looking in at him with a somewhat nervous and worried expression. Jack noticed that the lantern had already burned out, making him wonder how long he had been asleep.
"I've brought you some food." Chelsea said when she saw his figure shift in the darkness.
"Thanks very much, luv." Jack drawled tiredly.
"I'd rather prefer you not call me 'luv'." Chelsea said quickly.
Jack nodded. "Alright, since ye 'elped me, we 'ave an accord."
Chelsea allowed herself a small smile. She then pulled a ring of keys from the sash around her waist and went about unlocking the cell door. After the lock had clicked open, she maneuvered the door open, while balancing a small tray of food with her other hand. Jack shifted as if her were about to stand, but Chelsea stopped him with her words.
"No, no. Don't get up. I'll bring it to you." She said quickly, walking into the cell, holding the tray. She walked over and then kneeled in front of Jack, offering him the tray.
"Thank you." Jack muttered sincerely, accepting the proffered tray and examining its contents. A few hard biscuits, some small pieces of meat- most likely salted pork, and a mug of grog.
"Sorry that it's not much-"
"S'fine, lass. Couldn't 'ope fer better." Jack said quickly, a heavy slur still accenting his voice.
Chelsea rocked back on her heels, spreading her skirts out neatly around her.
Jack picked up one of the biscuits and was about to take a bite, when another thought crossed his mind. He looked up at Chelsea. "Y'know, yer're not required t' stay 'ere. Ye can go back t' yer nice cabin . . . s'probably better'n gettin' in wit' th' likes o' me."
Chelsea shook her head earnestly. "No. I'd rather stay down here with you-seems you're the only trustworthy man on this whole ship."
Jack took a bite of the biscuit and thought silently for a moment. After swallowing, he spoke. "So, 'ow'd ye wind up on thi' ship wit' this lot? Surely not by choice?"
Chelsea shook her head again. "No. I was sailing with my parents on a merchant vessel bound for England. My father had a mind to start a new business there, so he took my mother and I with him. In the middle of our crossing, an unmarked vessel came up behind us. Since it was flying friendly colors, naturally our captain thought nothing of it . . . that is, until the ship came up alongside and fired her guns at us. She dropped the British colors and hoisted a black flag. I must admit, when they boarded, I was more terrified than ever before."
Jack nodded, still eating and listening intently to her tale.
"They boarded and started plundering our cargo-mostly silks and the such. Then, before they left, rounded up the crew and . . ." Here she paused, choking a bit on the words. "Slaughtered them in cold blood. They hadn't even tried to stop them, and yet they were killed all the same. The pirates took me with them, hoping to sell me to someone-most likely a brothel." At this point, tears were welling dangerously high in Chelsea's eyes.
"And yer parents?" Jack asked carefully, figuring he already knew the answer.
"Dead. Murdered with the crew."
Jack nodded solemnly. "'m sorry, lass."
"So am I." Chelsea said sadly. Then, her mood seemed to lighten. "However, that's in the past. What's important now is to figure out how to escape from this vessel-how are you feeling?" She asked, changing her own subject instantaneously.
Jack sighed. "Tired." He answered truthfully, placing the tray on the floor.
Chelsea glanced down at the tray and was pleasantly surprised to see that most everything had been eaten. All that remained was a few pieces of meat and crumbs of bread; but not a drop of grog. "Well, that's to be expected, what with that bullet wound and all." She said with a half smile, collecting the tray. "I'll leave you to rest then." She said as she stood.
"Much obliged." Jack mumbled, already half asleep.
Chelsea turned and quietly left the cell, then continued up to the deck.