I'm an evil author, yes I am, and I am quite proud of that fact, too! Haha, I love my life…
Secrets of the CaribbeanWritten By: Riley Barton
[Chapter Twenty-Two]
Garret Ansgar nimbly nicked a bag of coins from the unsuspecting pocket of a bystander and disappeared into the crowded street. He grinned in satisfaction upon looking at the bag's contents; there were enough coins in there to buy more than enough rounds of rum. He had been deprived of his favourite drink for days, ever since that storm had risen up from nowhere while his ship and the Black Pearl had fought. He pocketed the bag and went in search of a pub. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone: locate the whereabouts of Jack Sparrow and his bonny lass, and help himself to a refreshing drink.
He was nearing the dumpier part of town when he stopped short upon seeing a man wearing an expensive riding outfit storm into the street from a smaller road that led up a hill. His shirtsleeves were town with blood staining the fabric, and his face was red with anger. The man angrily wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and stomped down the street muttering wildly to himself. Curious as to what a man such as this was doing in this part of town, and wearing bloodied clothes for that matter, Ansgar followed the man until he came to a small building with raucous laughter emitting from its cracked windows and swinging door. He smiled in amusement. This rich boy was going into a pub! Holding back a chuckle, he followed the boy inside.
The interior of the pub was drab and smoke lingered on the air. Tables covered in beer bottles and surrounded by men and women filled the floor space, leaving little room for the waitresses to move about. Broken glass remains littered the plank flooring and beer oozed down a wall.
Ansgar kept his eyes on the rich boy as he made his way to the bar. The boy sat down heavily and waved down the bartender, who came swiftly. Garret quickly scanned the room, searching for a face, any face that vaguely resembled a member of the Black Pearl's crew; there was none. Disappointed but not defeated, he made his way to the bar and joined the rich boy. He shouted an order to the bartender and looked to the boy on his left. "Get in a fight there, lad?" he asked as he removed a cigar from his tattered jacket.
The boy looked at him for a moment, his eyes narrowed. He faced forward again with his shoulders hunched. "What's it to you?"
Ansgar shrugged a shoulder and lit his cigar with a match. "Just tryin' t' make conversation," he replied, taking a puff, "nothin' given."
The bartender returned with his and the boy's drinks and set them before the two. Ansgar waited until the boy had taken two large gulps before voicing his next question. "Ye got a name?"
"Yes, do you?" the boy retorted, and took another drink.
"Aye. The name's Ansgar." He took a gulp from his mug. "Now what's yers?"
"Never said I'd tell you, did I?"
Ansgar's eyebrows rose with amusement. "Ye've got a quick tongue fer a rich boy. Cain't tell me yeh learnt that from yer dad."
"'Cause I didn't," the boy replied, cast Ansgar a glare, downed the remainder of his drink, and slammed a handful of coins onto the bar. He spat on the ground at Ansgar's feet and walked out.
Ansgar took another leisure puff from his cigar before snuffing it out on the bar. He swiveled around on his stool and stared at the swinging door to the bar. He'll be back, he thought smugly. A boy that can down a drink that fast ain't a one-time drinker.
"Scarlett?"
The woman jumped in surprise, her head snapping up at the sound of Will's voice. She stood from her chair and walked toward him, folding her arms across her chest. Will recognized it as a defensive motion and knew she was preparing for the worst. Her face was expressionless, a blank piece of parchment. Will motioned for her to come outside with him and she followed without a word.
"Well?" Scarlett asked once they were outside. "Is he going to live or not?" she snapped. "I don't have all bloody day to wait around for him."
"Scarlett," Will said in a much calmer voice. "Don't get so upset."
Her eyes flashed. "I'm annoyed, not upset. If Jack wants to go and get himself bloody killed that's all a bunch of roses for me. I could care less what he does with the remainder of his pathetic life. He's already ruined mine, so why shouldn't he destroy his?"
"Why do you hate him so much?" Will asked, his voice growing louder. "I've known for some time the two of you had something going on beneath the surface, so don't think you had Elizabeth and I fooled. The rest of the crew may think you and Jack are the best of mates, but I know differently. What did Jack ever do to you?"
"You really want to know why, Will?" she shouted angrily. "Fine! The truth is that he left me behind when he should have been there giving me a helping hand." She laughed sarcastically. "We had once been the best of mates, ever since we were kids! But suddenly, one day, Jack became distant. He ignored me, gave me any small job that would keep me away from him. After the silent treatment he suddenly came to me and said I was going ashore with him. He never told me why; simply that it was an easy job. Turns out he only needed me to seduce a couple'a men and hit them over the head so he could go in and steal a stupid ruby. We were followed though, and we had a bunch of men on our tails when we were running back to the Pearl. Two men of the crew threw ropes down to us so we could climb up. Apparently I was too slow, so once Jack got aboard he cut off my rope and left me to the sharks." Her face twisted into an angry scowl. "Damn good mate he was, aye?" She turned and walked a few paces away, shaking her head. "I've been planning my revenge on him since then, and I've had all the chances I could ask for," she muttered through clenched teeth. "And you know what, Will? I've blown every single chance God's given me. I can't kill him!" She wanted to laugh at the irony. "And now he's gone and gotten himself killed, and when I should be jumping for joy I'm pacing, worried out of my mind." She spun and aimed a punch at the brick wall behind her. Will rushed forward and restrained her.
"Scarlett, it's okay. Calm down," he whispered in her ear. "It's okay."
Angry tears were forming in her eyes and she was desperately trying to blink them away. She shook her head. "No, it's not okay." She jerked away from him and dropped to the ground, leaning back against the wall. "I should hate him, and I do, but at the same time…"
Will sat down beside her and pulled her into a hug. "You don't hate him, Scarlett. No one can truly hate him. That's just the way he is."
"He wasn't always that way," she replied. "Piracy got the better of him. He used to scorn any man that drank; now he's no better than they are. He's no better than my drunken father was."
Will could only shake his head. He didn't know what to say.
"Will, Scarlett?" Elizabeth called, stepping outside. She noticed them by the wall and went to them. She knelt down on the other side of Scarlett and placed a reassuring hand on her arm. "You can go see him if you want," she suggested quietly. "The physician said he'll be okay, although he'll have a scar for the rest of his life. He isn't awake; probably won't be for a few days."
Scarlett shook her head, pulling away from Will. "No, it's okay. I'm going for a walk." She climbed to her feet. "Tell Carver I'll be back before long." She headed back inside, leaving Will and Elizabeth by the wall.
Elizabeth sighed and leaned back against Will. "What are we going to do?" she whispered.
Will remained silent. He rested his chin on the top of Elizabeth's head and let his embrace speak for him.
Three days later…"You again."
Garret Ansgar looked up at the young man as he took a seat at the bar. A grin crossed his face. "Aye," he replied. "Me crew and I are stranded here fer a time while me ship is bein' repaired."
Rafe looked the pirate over carefully. It had been three days since he had last seen him at this exact same pub; three days since Scarlett had almost literally thrown him out. He was still angry from that day. He had locked himself in his chambers, refusing to see anyone. By now all the curtains were in angry tatters and his wooden furniture chipped after being thrown every which way. The servants had not been too pleased.
He reluctantly sat on the stool beside the pirate and ordered a drink. While he waited, he looked to the pirate, studying him. He didn't look very trustworthy. His grimy appearance was enough to make him look away.
"Don't like what ye see, lad?" the pirate, whom Rafe remembered as Ansgar, commented with a grin. He stuck another cigar between his upturned lips. He laughed when Rafe didn't say anything. "Cat got yer tongue, boy? Ach, no bother. I already know I'm a sight, so no words from yer mouth will tell me diff'rently."
The bartender brought Rafe his drink. He grabbed it and swung his head back, taking a long draught of it.
"Slow down, boy, ye'll have a helluva hangover on the morn."
Rafe finished the drink and slammed the empty mug onto the bar. He glared at the pirate beside him. "I've a strong stomach," he replied, "and I don't need you to be telling me what I can and cannot do, miscreant."
Ansgar let out a loud guffaw. "Miscreant?" he gasped out between bellows of haughty laughter. "So I'm a miscreant, am I? Well, pray tell young one, what such a name as that means. I am but a pirate, boy, and do not know yer kind's mouthy speech."
"It means infidel, villain, whatever word you wish to call it."
"Aye, s'pose I am those things. Jus' depends on how ye look at it." He let out a puff of smoke and ground the butt of the cigar onto the bar; it was somewhat of a habit of his. Ansgar allowed the heavy silence to reign for a few minutes, letting the boy's anger dwindle. Getting him angry was not going to get Garret anywhere. The only reason he was biding his time with that young whelp was because of this feeling he had that told him this boy knew where Jack Sparrow was. That, and the fact that everyone quickly declined the idea of Jack Sparrow ever having lived in Port Marcail. He thought otherwise, though, and had refused to leave. The very idea that he was so close to Sparrow and yet so far was driving him over the edge. It seemed gaining this whelp's trust was the only way of finding out the truth.
"Do ye have a bonny lass, lad?" Ansgar asked, putting a false, friendly look on his normally gruff face. I should've gone into theatre, he thought wryly.
The whelp's face darkened, though Ansgar doubted the anger was directed at him. "I thought I had," he replied shortly. "She was nothing but a blasted whore, though, anyway. She had a son and everything."
Ansgar's eyebrows rose. This was interesting. He longed to ask what the woman's name was, but he knew that would be too hasty. It would ruin everything, all of his perfectly made plans. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, silencing the impatient voice in his mind. He would find out the girl's name the next time the rich boy returned to the pub, when the two of them were on more 'trusting grounds'.
"Scarlett!"
A young girl of eight-years-old looked up, quickly brushing away the tears that were streaming down her face. She sniffed and looked over her shoulder at the boy that was running toward her across the beach. Her feet slid in the dry sand as she stood up. A fresh wave of tears rose in her eyes as her friend drew nearer, slowing to a halt a foot away when he saw her tear-stained face.
His eyes darkened. "What happened?"
She closed her eyes and pursed her lips, just shaking her head; she started to hiccup. She felt her friend's arms wrap around her and hold her tight. She couldn't hold back the tears any longer and cried into his shoulder, wetting the rich emerald-coloured fabric.
Jack stood there as she cried, feeling his anger grow fiercer by the moment. Scarlett's father must have attacked her again, what else could have set off such a wild waterfall of salty tears?
When her tears slowed to a slow trickle, she pulled away and wiped her face with the back of her hands. "He hurt Mama again, and-" She hiccupped. "This time she didn't get up."
Jack's eyes widened in horror. Though he was the same age as her, he understood a lot more things than Scarlett did. Little Scarlett, his best friend and soul mate, completely innocent in her own right. He took her into his arms again and hugged her. "You can stay with me at my house tonight," he said. "Mother won't mind."
"Daddy would be mad," she said, followed by another hiccup.
"Let me deal with him," Jack replied in an angry but controlled tone. "You know I'll always be here to back you up, Scarlett, no matter what."
A single tear rolled down the soft, warm cheek of a young woman sitting on the cushioned bench in the window seat. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and her head was thrown back, leaning against the wall behind her. Another followed that first tear until she opened her eyes and blinked the rest away.
Scarlett brushed the remaining tears that still ran down her cheeks away and stared out into the night. The full moon hung in the sky and the many stars twinkled brightly. Not even a night as beautiful as this could take away the memories. But, just as that thought flittered through her mind like a sparrow on wings, another memory came to mind…
"Scarlett, get back here with me hat!"
Scarlett laughed merrily as she glanced over her shoulder, running as fast as she could; a black tricorn hat was gripped firmly in her right hand. "You've got to catch me first, Jack!" she shouted back to him. She laughed again and picked up speed as she raced across the starboard side of the Marigold to the ships aft. She raced around two of the Marigold's crew, shouting out a quick apology as she accidentally pushed one of them out of the way. She risked another glance over her shoulder and squealed in a childish manner upon seeing that Jack was catching up. Sometimes she hated being a girl; it was the men who had the longer legs.
"You know I'm gonna get you!" Jack called to her.
"We'll see about that!" Scarlett took another sharp turn and darted below deck. She slipped down the stairs and into the steerage compartment. She slammed her body against the wall and desperately tried to calm her rapid breathing. She bit her lower lip and placed a hand over her heart. She could hear Jack's heavy footsteps coming down the wooden stairs, drawing closer. Jack's body weight was going to be a big disadvantage to him. At nineteen both of them had grown taller since they had run away from home at the age of sixteen, and during those few years Jack had definitely broadened across the chest and had gained a lot more body muscle from hours of doing strenuous work. Where as the captain of the Marigold had made Jack work as if he was part of the crew, Scarlett had been sentenced to kitchen duty and sewing.
Scarlet held her breath when the air became silent except for the distant voices of the crew above deck. She licked her lips nervously, waiting. Had she missed the sound of Jack returning to the main deck, or was he still waiting? Well, that was fine with her. She'd play the game his way. And so, she sat there for an hour, in the darkness, waiting.
She finally grew weary as her legs became cramped and looked around the corner. Seeing no one, she stepped out of her hiding place and into the open. Grinning, she set Jack's hat onto her head and started for the stairs that would take her above.
Suddenly, arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her back, pressing her tightly against someone's warm and sweaty body. She struggled to get away, trying not to laugh at the fact that she had been caught. She had been so close!
"Thought ye had fooled Captain Jack Sparrow, eh?" Jack whispered into her ear. He had, unconsciously, fallen into the roguish speech of a sailor, and every time she heard him talk she couldn't help thinking that it fit him.
Scarlett smiled and looked at him over her shoulder. "Captain Jack Sparrow, eh?" she echoed. "Where did you come up with that name?"
Jack turned her around, still keeping a tight grip on her so she couldn't run away with his hat again and grinned. "You know I've always wanted to be captain of me own ship, and I figured I needed a new name. Captain Jack Sparrow just has a certain ring to it, don't yeh think?"
Scarlett shrugged. "I guess so. So should I start calling you Captain now?" she teased, a twinkle in her eyes. When Jack didn't say anything, the twinkle slowly died away into a look of concern. "Jack, you all right?" She raised an eyebrow questioningly.
The world seemed to come to a standstill with the two friends locked in time. Everything swung back into motion abruptly as Scarlett suddenly felt warm lips being pressed against her own.
A/N: Cringe I have come to a conclusion: I CANNOT WRITE ROMANCE!!! Shudders I dunno, I just can't write it. I'm being dead serious, I saw staring at my computer screen for five bloody minutes trying to build up the nerve just to write those last two sentences. I just… I just can't do it! It's terrible, but I just don't like writing it…! BUT, don't worry; this is a story with romance, so there will be more. Don't fret over that.
Anyway, how many of you guys actually thought I would kill Jack Sparrow? Laughs Come on, I can't kill him! He's the entire point of writing at POTC fic. I just love keeping you guys on the edges of your seats, is all. Well, you know what to do now. LEAVE A REVIEW!! I MUST HAVE FEEDBACK OTHERWISE… YOU KNOW WHAT WILL HAPPEN….