A/N: Sorry for not posting a chapter since…what, last week? I gave myself a bit of a break and read some other people's POTC fanfiction, which was enjoyable. Besides, it's taken me a long time to write this chapter anyway, it being about seven or eight pages long on Microsoft Word…

Enjoy! (And don't forget to review!)

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Lorraine stood in front of the dusty mirror standing in her small room, observing her appearance. She had been walking around barefooted for the past four days since she had been captured. Her new dress was now rather tattered and dirty, and certainly didn't look brand new anymore. Her hair didn't look too bad, but it was somewhat tangled. Her face looked pale and tired, and her eyes were dark and dim. She screwed her face up and then relaxed before taking a long, deep breath and sighing. Lorraine wished she could see her mother and father again, what would they be thinking now? Were they coming to help her, to save her? What was Rebecca doing? Was she trying to come to her rescue? Did she miss her? Lorraine was so unsure of everything around her and she missed her town; she was homesick.

She frowned at her reflection. She didn't think she was pretty at all; she didn't believe that she looked any different to any of the other girls she knew. Perhaps pirates weren't picky. What did they want with her now anyway? Surely she was no use aboard a pirate ship? Lorraine wondered about how much longer she would be on this ship, she really wanted to go back home. These pirates could have picked up any girl they liked from the entire island, why did all of this have to happen to her? What had she done to deserve this?

Lorraine collapsed onto her bed, angry with herself for getting herself into this situation in the first place, angry with the pirates for well, being pirates and angry with her family for not having come to rescue her in any noticeable way whatsoever as of yet.

*****

The time passed and she gradually calmed down, growing bored instead. She got up and picked up a random book from the shelf above the table; it was something about navigation by the stars…how mundane and dull a topic Lorraine thought it was. She threw the book back down and decided to leave the room and have a little wander around the ship.

It was a dark, humid night, so Lorraine wasn't too cold wandering around the ship barefooted. The wood was worn but smooth, the walls were long and a bit uneven in places and the air was stuffy and thick down here. Since it was so dark, Lorraine had to solely depend on her sense of touch, which was a rather different experience in itself. Everything seemed so different without the aid of sight but although it was interesting, she was beginning to get annoyed with constantly being weary incase there was a dead end right in front of her.

Lorraine lifted her head up and stood still; she could hear conversation from somewhere to the left of where she was standing. She turned and followed the noise, carefully walking around a corner she had not noticed previously, and soon came to a door that was outlined with a thin border of flickering yellow light.

"Aye, I saw 'er too, on deck th' other day."

"Righ' beauty. Sure she'd be good en'ertainmen' for a night!"

"Probably cos' a fortune for a whole night though…"

"Oi, cap'n! Is she a good'un or not then?"

"Eh?" came a familiar drunken voice from within the room.

"The girl!"

"What?"

"D'ye mean to say tha' you've 'ad this girl on board all this time and ye haven' even 'ad

you're way wiv 'er yet, Cap'n?!"

By this time Lorraine was fuming with anger; how dare they assume that she was a tavern-dweller! A street-wanderer! A drab! She was so furious with their assumptions about her that she stormed off back to her own room.

She moodily fell onto the bed, her arms crossed in a frustrated manner. This was ridiculous. It was all utterly humiliating. The fact that they were talking about her in terms of cost was infuriating and unbelievable! Those scoundrels! Villains! Dogs! That's what they all were, amoral and immoral rogues!

There was a rapping knock on the wooden door of the room and Lorraine narrowed her eyes spitefully at the interfering wave of constant knocking.

"Go away!" she shouted angrily, far too consumed with her own fury to see to the visitor on the other side of the door.

The door opened and someone swaggered into the room.

"'Ello love, 'ow are ye?" the voice inquired. The strong stench of rum filled the entire room and Lorraine cringed.

"Mr Sparrow, I am most definitely not in the happiest of moods, so would you kindly please get out!" she insisted irritably.

"Eh?"

"Out! Now!"

"Now, now, love! No need for that, no, no…" he replied, trying to calm her down; Lorraine groaned with annoyance and turned on her side, away from Sparrow. He took a few steps towards her, paused for a moment, then left.

*****

It was only later that she thought she may have been a bit too harsh with Sparrow; he had been completely drunk at the time, so of course he couldn't control his words and actions. Lots of little things had been getting on her nerves recently, and that situation may just have been what set her temper flaring. She sighed; she would apologise to him tomorrow.

Lorraine got up and rearranged the sheets of the bed before climbing within them. The ship was quiet now. Even the dim chatter from earlier on had now died. She stared out into the pitch-blackness with wide-awake eyes even though she could see nothing in this darkness. The sheets were thin and certainly didn't keep her warm, so she curled up and tried to wrap them around her cold self as tightly as possible. Sleep did not come quickly, and many long, silent hours passed before it finally did. But even when she was in sleep, it wasn't a deep sleep; she'd wake up at the slightest sound whether it was the creak of the moving ship or the sound of waves pushing against the wooden walls outside.

*****

It was dawn when Lorraine woke up. She knew she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep again so she decided to make her bed and tidy herself up. The reflection in the mirror was none too appealing to Lorraine as she stared at it; an unwashed, messy, sulky girl stared back just as intensely. Lorraine found a comb for her hair and gradually managed to free it of knots and tangles. She combed the front section of her hair back and rummaged round for a ribbon with her free hand. Rebecca. The name swiftly sprang into her head. She immediately began searching for the ribbon she had pocketed; the birthday gift from her best friend, and soon found it in one of the folds on the side of her dress. She held the pale blue length of fabric longingly, running her thumb along the satin-like, shining material. She gently tied her hair with the ribbon and stood sideways against the mirror so as to view at least part of the material in her hair.

Lorraine left the room and quietly wandered down the corridor so as not to wake anyone. There was still a sleepy air about the ship, and just because she was wide awake didn't mean that everyone else was prepared to be so.

She soon arrived on the deck and made her way up to the top end, relishing the fresh air as she walked. She leant against the wooden railing and gazed out towards the horizon, where the red sun was beginning to rise from the edge of the ocean. In some ways, Lorraine enjoyed being aboard the Black Pearl. It was so different being here, out at sea rather than on land. All the land she had ever seen had been completely colonized, but being out here was just so beautiful. The ocean was vast and seemed endless; all she could see for miles were the gentle, rolling waves of the sea-green water.

She must have stood there absorbed in her own thoughts for quite a while because there was now a reasonable number of pirates on deck. They stared and winked at her suggestively, which made her face convulse with disgust.

"Oi, are ye sure ye wouldn' rather be doin' somethin' more fun?!"

"Why don'tcha let me take ye somewhere a little more private?"

"Come on, th' firs' time ain't tha' bad!"

Lorraine felt sickened with these comments but she was no longer in a fiery enough a mood to retort, so she spun on her barefooted heel and made to go back below deck, but as she spun around, she found herself leaning on a rather bulky figure.

"Can't keep away from me now, can ye?" Barbossa jeered as he looked down at Lorraine.

"Go away…" she muttered quietly. She simply couldn't stand up for herself when he was around; he was just so menacing, conniving and he definitely had an air of authority about him, whether he really had any or not didn't affect the aura he gave off.

He let out a deep, throaty, cruel laugh and pinned her arms to her sides before lifting her up off of the ground. She wanted to scream, or shriek or shout, but no sound came out of her mouth; her throat was so dry she couldn't make a single sound.

"Ah, a fine piece o' nature she is…wonder how much she could fetch us if we were to drop 'er off at Tortuga? After we're done wi' 'er, tha' is!" the other pirates had crowded around them now and they were cheering at Barbossa's words. Lorraine was panic-stricken. Why did she let herself be pushed about in this way? How could she escape? Was there even a humanely possible way to escape anyway? Probably not.

Barbossa walked over to the mast, still holding Lorraine up in the air, set her down and then violently pushed her up against it. Her heart was throbbing in her chest, her legs were weak and her mouth had gone dry. Her feet were quite a distance from the ground so she couldn't touch the floor; Barbossa's dry, rough hands held her firmly by the arms against the mast. What was happening? Were they going to tie her up on the wooden pole and leave her there? Cut her open for their own sick pleasure?

Barbossa took a step forward so that he was up close to Lorraine and smiled hideously at her. He looked once into her deep brown eyes and grinned again. It was only when she saw into his dark, bottom-less eyes that she understood what was happening. What was going to happen. What he was going to do to her.

Her head swam and everything seemed to be a dim blur, she could hear the chanting of the pirates circled all around her, their rank stench reaching her nose. It almost seemed like a satanic ritual.

She could feel her skirts being ruffled and gradually pushed up. This couldn't be happening to her. The pirates were jeering and shouting, she wanted to scream. She wanted to be sick. Her stomach felt as if it was being tied up in knots, stretched apart, tied up again, and then shaken and kneaded. Everything seemed to slowly fade away; she could neither see nor hear anything clearly any longer. It was too much of a struggle to stay awake, too difficult a battle, she couldn't keep it up any longer.

Lorraine's body became limp and her head drooped on her shoulder, her struggling ceased and her tense arms relaxed, her fists unclenched. The cheering and shouting stopped as the crew looked on in confusion. Barbossa snarled at the girl before letting her fall to the floor.

"No poin' if she can't feel it." He mumbled angrily before he knelt down beside her. He shook her head hastily and her eyes opened slightly.

"If ye say a single word to Sparrow abou' this, I'll slice yer throat. Ye understand?" he said in a low voice. Lorraine looked at him blankly, only half-conscious.

"Do ye understand, ye wench?!" he repeated more threateningly. Lorraine sluggishly nodded and he let go, letting her head fall.

*****

After a good half hour, Lorraine began to regain her senses. Her hearing was the first sense to come back, soon followed by dim sight which gradually improved as the slow minutes passed. She sat up and her head swam with the sudden movement so she sat still with her hand to her head for a few moments. She looked around herself and saw the sun blazing high in the sky above her, and the entire deck was active with noise and movement. Lorraine tried to get up, but simply tumbled over onto her side. She tried again, clinging to the mast for support this time and eventually got to her feet, leaning against the tall, wooden pole just in case she couldn't stand properly by herself.

"Ye had too much to drink, love?" Sparrow innocently joked as he saw her struggling to stand.

Lorraine's legs weakened again and they gave way. 

"Whoops! Don't worry, I've got yer." He caught her just before she hit the ground and she desperately held onto his arms for support. "Don't be gettin' all clingy now, love!" he chuckled as her fingernails gripped tightly onto his arms. He put his hands on Lorraine's shoulders and gently pushed her back so that he could see her face. "You alright, darlin'?"

Of course I'm not alright… "Yes, I-I'm fine. Didn't get enough sleep last night, that's all. Just a bad headache…" she lied, rubbing her forehead.

"Ye sure? Is yer room alright?"

Lorraine bit her lip. Her room didn't have a lock, what if Barbossa came in? But there were loads of rooms in the ship, what were the chances of him finding her?

"It's fine, thank you."

Sparrow nodded in thanks and then went to stand at the front of the ship, gazing out to the horizon just as Lorraine had done only an hour earlier. He was such an unusual man. His appearance was rather exquisite; he didn't look like anyone Lorraine had ever seen before. Where she lived, there were the stately, upper-class men who wore grand, expensive clothes and behaved with the uttermost propriety. The middle-class men who behaved in a very similar way, although their range vocabulary was not quite as distinguished as those of the upper-classes; their clothes were also of fine material, but not quite as splendid. Then there were the lower classes, the peasants, who dressed in rags and hastily sewn together pieces of dirty cloth; they often had no respectable manners whatsoever when it came to eating at the table or having a sophisticated conversation.

But this man, Jack Sparrow, he was something else. He seemed so exotic and different; he belonged outside in the air at sea. He was not one to have a four course dinner with guests during a party at a grand house on the edge of town, he was adventurous and exciting; he was a traveller, an explorer, a man always searching for something new. Evidence of his travels hung all around him: the bright, colourful beads in his hair were definitely not from this area, although the natives might use such intense colours like yellow, red and blue. The braids and one or two dreadlocks he had in his hair could possibly have been of African origin and the black kohl smudged around his brown eyes Lorraine had no idea about. His skin was tanned from the many hours he had spent in the sun; usually the sign of a peasant or farmer who normally spent their entire day labouring outside. He smelt of the air on a hot summer's day, mixed with probably what was an entire crate of rum.

"D'ye ever wonder if fish have a Royal Navy?" he asked absentmindedly as Lorraine wandered up behind him.

"What?" she giggled, trying to hold back a laugh.

"A Royal Navy. 'cause ye know they always swim together in groups? Well they always know which direction to go in, an' they always move exactly in time with each other, like some milit'ry tactic or somethin'…" he went on to explain, turning to face Lorraine as he lifted both index fingers up in the air, wavering forwards and backwards as he spoke.

Lorraine couldn't help but laugh at him; he was acting so serious, yet she could see the grin he was trying to withhold.

"To tell the truth, I really don't know Captain. I'm not too interested in matters concerning the Navy or their methods of defence!" She told him after her laughter had died down enough for her to speak clearly.

The captain furrowed his brow as if pondering how the fish managed to dodge large objects so accurately without being trained the ways of the navy. It almost hurt to see him thinking so hard, but he soon gave up with this unanswerable question.

"I think I'll 'ave some rum…" he muttered, as if the substance would ease the pain that had been caused by his intense thinking.

"What is it with you and rum?!" Lorraine exclaimed as she attempted to block his way.

"Rum is what makes the world go round, love."

"What makes the world go down, more like!"

"Then you've clearly never tasted the sweet, blissful beverage, I'll wager?"

"Well, no, but-"

"Ah hah! That's settled then," he smiled proudly and crossed his arms. "Now go on an' make yerself useful!" he grabbed her shoulders and turned her around, lightly pushing her in the direction of the stairs below deck.

Lorraine grinned as she walked down the steps, feeling much better now because of the fresh air. The mere cheerfulness of the captain raised her spirits; he was so full of energy that it almost seemed as if it were contagious, for she couldn't help feeling light and merry herself.

She strolled down the corridors and first went to her room to tidy it up a bit. There wasn't much to do here at all because she had barely touched anything in the room besides the bed, which she had made earlier. Nevertheless, she grabbed an old piece of cloth that was hanging out of a drawer and wiped down the dusty mirror, which was quite an effort. It took all of a quarter of an hour to get the thing clean and clear.

Lorraine then went on to wipe the small window just above the left side of the wooden desk she now clambered upon, and after that she polished a few of the ornaments.

*****

She hadn't spent long at all down here by the time she had finished, so she left the room, swinging the cloth in her hand, and went up to Captain Sparrow's room.

Lorraine quickly got to work; cleaning the windows, folding pieces of material and storing them away in the drawers, putting little trinkets and such into a small wooden box she had found next to the window sill, clearing the floor of glass bottles (which were probably once filled with rum before Jack got his hands on them) and doing various other small chores.

She climbed onto the bed to rearrange the sheets, but as she stood on it she peered at the elaborate patterns that swirled around the wood of the four-poster. The bed was soft beneath her feet, and she couldn't resist the urge to jump up and see how high she would bounce back up when she fell. So that's what she did. She bent her knees and sprang up, soon hitting the soft bed before she was in the air again. Lorraine grinned; she knew it looked stupid and childish, but it was such fun! She was in a cheerful mood, so who could blame her?

"What the bloody-" the voice came as she hit the bed a second time. Lorraine turned around and felt her cheeks redden as she saw the captain standing at the doorway, looking completely bewildered.

"Captain, I was just-" Actually, she didn't really know what she was doing…making a complete fool out of herself, possibly?

"Didn't know ye were that eager…" he grinned mischievously as Lorraine sat in the middle of the bed, her hair tousled. She stuck her tongue in her cheek and rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms.

"Oh, honestly…"

"Well, what are ye doin' then?"

"I was just making your bed."

"Really now…" he said, still smirking.

"Yes, really!" she replied defiantly, barely able to hide her own grin.

"Mhhh-hmm. Of course."

"I was!" and with that, she grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He caught it and held onto it for the moment.

"Anyway, whatever ye were doin'," his grin crept back onto his face before fading away again, "I was goin' to ask ye if ye wanted some lunch. You almost finished?"

"I've just got the bed to make." She said, peering around the room to make sure she had not forgotten anything else.

"I'll be on deck with yer food, alrigh'?"

Lorraine nodded and the captain left after throwing the pillow back to her. She stood up once again on the bed and pulled the sheets up to air them, still smiling from her recent 'argument' with Sparrow. He was so comical and friendly; she'd love to introduce Rebecca to him. Lorraine lowered the sheets back on to the bed, straightening them out before fluffing the many pillows that were bunched together at the head of the bed. She jumped off the bed and a pile of messily stacked papers caught her eye, so she quickly rearranged them into a neater pile. She was rushing now because she was so hungry, and cursed as she dropped a map. Lorraine glanced at the various symbols and lines on the paper, beginning to grow curious. There were numbers and letters next to one of the points on the map, a small island which she had never heard of, even though it seemed to be within the Caribbean. The numbers and letters seemed to be bearings, which she didn't understand how to use at all. She hastily folded the paper and added it to the pile of other maps and notes before practically running up on deck.

"Steady on, love! 'ere ye go."

Lorraine greedily grabbed the apple and bit into it hungrily while Captain Sparrow watched her, an eyebrow raised as he then turned to glance at the apple he held in his own hand.

"Mad as a fish, she is…" he muttered quietly, gazing in awe at the girl.