Title: Dragonfly

Author: Muse a.k.a. Viorith

Rating: R for sexual situations and violence

Pairing: Will/OFC & Jack/Anna Marie

Feedback: Yes

Archive: Ask first please!

Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with PoTC, I'm just playing with them. I do own Sabine. So please ask if you want to play with her.

Summary: Sabine has loved Will since she was 16, but since his eyes were for Elizabeth only, she settled for his friendship. A year after the curse is lifted, Sabine now needs him to teach her the way of the blade so she can avenge her father's death on a man that once called himself his friend.

Note: "text" is spoken in Spanish

Chapter 9

Sabine rolled over in her bed. Tears soaked her pillow, stained her face, and still blurred her vision, even as the sun greeted the isle of decadence. She had retreated to another room, clutching her clothes to her body and hurled herself onto the bed where she cried, slept, and cried again. Every time she thought she had shed her last tear, the sound of his voice proclaiming his affection for another woman would send her into darkness again. He had used her, and she had allowed herself to be used. He had deflowered her, and she had nothing to show for it but soreness and pain.

After the death of her father, she thought she had nothing left to lose. She thought nothing else could ever wound her as deep… she had been wrong. His disregard for her feeling was nothing compared to the cutting stab of Elizabeth's name from his lips. She told herself it was from the drink, but that excuse didn't ease the pain in her heart or fill the hole that ruptured in her soul. What hurt worst of all was that she couldn't bring herself to hate him. She would possibly never forgive him, but the love she held in her heart for him still burned as strong.

With great effort, Sabine pushed last night's events to the corner of her mind, and pulled it to her upcoming journey. Last night she had taken another room, one that was equipped with a cast iron tube. She ordered it filled, then steeped her aching body into the steaming waters. She washed her body thoroughly, washed her hair, then soaked in the tube until the water began to cool.

She dressed quickly, pulling one of her old dresses from the suitcase. It would only be on her as long as it took to find pants and shirt that fit. The corset was replaced with a piece of material wrapped around her breasts to keep them confined. From her suitcase she pulled a small black leather pouch, and stuffed in as many gold coins as it would hold. Removing a letter opener from her bag, she slid the dresser out of the corner, dug at the floorboards until she was able to pry one up, slip the pouch inside, and replaced it and the dresser. If it was good enough for father all these years, it will be good enough for me.

Standing back, Sabine admired her handiwork, making sure it would go undetected. If someone looked closely they might see the pry marks from the letter opener, but judging from the amount of dirt on the floor, no one had looked for years or would look for years to come. If I don't survive this, that gold will probably remain here until the hotel burns down.

Looking around the room, the woman saw one thing left to be done. She claimed the scissors on the table, went to the mirror and attacked her hair. More than a foot of the black tresses was severed. Where it once reached halfway down her back, it now dusted her shoulders. She parted it once, and braided either side tight against her scalp. Staring at her reflection, her eyes began to mist over again, and Sabine quickly bit her bottom lip to still it, willing the tears to cease. Children cried and she was no longer a child, the last of her innocence having been taken last night.

She turned from the mirror, and searched through the luggage one last time, pulling from a side compartment the only piece of jewelry that meant anything to her anymore. It was a golden dragonfly with rose quartz for wings. It hung from a gold chain that was connected to either wing and fastened around her neck. It had belonged to her mother; given to her by her father the day nature proclaimed her as a woman. Fear of losing it caused her to put the trinket up when she was a child. But staring back at her reflection, although she looked the same, she was no longer a child.

Taking a suitcase that was now much lighter without the gold, Sabine silently moved down the hall, only pausing for a moment outside the door to Will's room before continuing to the front desk.

"Excuse me?" Sabine approached the man behind the desk. It was the same man that had been there last night when she fled Will's room in favor of her own.

"Everything alright, miss?"

"Yes," she answered, then raised the suitcase to the counter top. "Could you take these for me?"

"It'll cost an extra shilling to store--"

"I don't wish to store them, I wish to leave them here. I no longer have a use for them," not giving the innkeeper a chance to reject them, Sabine placed a golden guinea on the counter next to her luggage and left.

Tortuga was as barren in the morning as it had been lively last night. Down on the pier she saw movement of sailors preparing to make way, or docking their ships. There were also signs of life at the business district of the town, a small collection of shoppes in the heart of the settlement, but with the exception to her, the store owners, and a handful of others, the streets were mostly empty.

She hadn't been a bit tempted to wake Will before she left, namely because she hadn't the slightest idea what she would say to him. There was no doubt in her mind the blacksmith would apologize for his words, possibly even his actions, although the act itself was not entirely his doing. She could have stopped him; he never would have forced himself on her had she pushed him away. The plain truth was Sabine had wanted last night to happen. She had dreamt so many times of Will kissing her, of him touching her in a way her friends would giggle about as they describe their experiences to Sabine.

The reality, however, had fallen drastically short of the dream. In her fantasy she was the one Will wanted, and he had confessed his love for her as his hands caressed her skin. The pain from their joining was brief, and the tears spilled from her eyes were kissed away by his lips. In her fantasy Will held her close, affirming his love in a whisper against her ear, as they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Again, she pushed the thoughts of last night away, telling herself that Will was just a distraction to her cause. She wasn't there to explore her feelings for him, she was there to learn what she needed to avenge her father. For a moment she thought of telling Will to return home to Port Royal, and the woman he obviously still loved. But no matter how angry she was at him, he had skills that she needed to learn. And as perverse as it now seemed, she still felt safer with him around.

Her first stop was for food. She wasn't hungry, but she remembered enough of Will's tales to know food on the open sea was not filling nor was it given in large quantities. Besides the food eaten on the Leda hadn't remained in her stomach long. Once she'd had her fill of cheese and bread she moved on to the next agenda on her list: clothing.

Shirts were easy, she picked to white linen ones similar to what she remembered Anna-Maria wearing last night. Nor was it difficult to find pants that fit her either. Three pairs of each were purchased; one that was worn from the store, the other two secured in her duffel bag. In the dressing room, she wrapped a piece of cloth around her upper thigh and tucked her half of the map securely into place.

Shoes proved harder to locate. It took a visit to three different shoppes before she located a pair of boots that fit her properly. With the boots paid for and on, she turned to gaze upon her reflection in the mirror. A black scarf was tied around her hair, with a braid resting over either shoulder. The top two buttons on her shirt remained open, showing a hint of the cloth used to secure her breasts in place, instead of the cleavage the dress had revealed. The dragonfly rest just bellow the hollow of her throat. Her pants were secured at the waist with a red scarf, the fit around her hips relaxed as it went further down her legs and covered the boots making them appear as regular shoes.

She almost smiled at her reflection, the right corner of her lips twisting slightly upwards. There was nothing left of the girl from Port Royal, in the woman that faced the mirror. She didn't quite look like a pirate, but she was well on the way. There's still one thing missing, she realized scanning her image with her eyes resting on her right hip. Stepping out into the streets once more, Sabine scanned the rows of stores looking for a shoppe with a blacksmith logo.

~~~

Consciousness was slow to return to the young blacksmith, and when it did the alcohol that numbed his brain the night before, attacked with a vengeance. He groaned loudly, and rolled away from the window and the bright sun, his face buried against the pillow next to him. It felt as if he had his own personal tiny blacksmith, pounding away with a hammer, and his throbbing temples were the anvils.

"I swear I'll never drink a drop of rum again in my life," he pledged to the empty room, lying as still as possible in hopes the hammering would abate.

He breathed in deep and caught a scent trapped in the white cotton bedding. It had the scent of flowers with a spicy fragrance, vaguely familiar and definitely feminine. He tried to recall the smell but his mind was still shrouded in the fog of the previous night's debauchery. He continued to lie there, trying to recall where the scent was from when he became very aware of something: he was alone in the room he was supposed to be sharing.

"Sabine," he called out, and sat up scanning the room. The sheet pooled in his lap with his movements and he became aware of something else: he was naked as well as alone. "Oh good Lord, what have I done?" he moaned and dropped back against the pillow, his hands pressed against his face.

He tried to take his mind back to the events of last night, but after the second mug of rum, what wasn't a blur was past recollection. He remembered a rather ample body whore making eyes at him, and Sabine muttering in Spanish. The actual events that led to the morning were forgotten, but he could guess at what happened. Quickly he jumped from the bed to search his clothes piled on the floor for his purse of coins, giving a sigh of relief when he counted out the exact amount he started off with. However another question was raised. If he still had all his coins, who paid the prostitute?

The obvious choice was Sabine. She had sponsored most of the rum consumed, but he would be willing to bet his life she hadn't bought him the whore. The first and only time Will had sex– excluding last night– had been when he turned eighteen.

His loss of virginity had been assisted by Diego, who took him to a brothel and purchased the best whore there for the young man. He would fondly remember that woman for the rest of his life. Diego had paid for her services through the night, and during which she taught Will as much as he was willing to learn. The next day, as with everything that happened in the young blacksmith's life, he relayed to Sabine his adventures. An entire month passed before she spoke to him after that.

That they weren't married didn't seem to bother Sabine, that he paid for the service did. In Sabine's eyes men were more to blame for prostitution than women, for it there weren't such a high demand it wouldn't exist. Will had called her view naïve and childish, and she had pushed him out of her house and slammed the door in his face. For her to have paid for the woman last night would be in direct violation of her previous statement.

The other option, the one he hoped for was Jack had paid for the woman's charms. Though he teased Sabine mercilessly for her naivete, it was an endearing quality. One that he didn't want to see her lose, but feared that she would if she continued down the road of piracy.

Furious with himself, Will dressed and gather his belongings as quickly as possible. His head pounded from his quick movements, but the blacksmith viewed it as a just punishment. Last night he had intended to spend with Sabine. He wanted to convince her to return to Port Royal, to let him be the tool for her revenge. Not blow her off for the company of a whore.

Once he was fully clothed-- his gentlemanly dress of Port Royal trade for the clothing of a pirate-- he opened one of the two sword boxes and strapped the blade around his waist. The second box contained a sword he had made for Sabine in the event he couldn't convince her to give up her quest. He had made it especially for her; the grip designed for her left hand, and inlaid with gold and silver.

His gun he left in the duffel bag, along with the rest of his clothing, and after a quick survey confirmed nothing had been left in the room he made his way to the front desk.

"Excuse me," he called loud enough to get the innkeeper's attention, "The young woman I checked in with last night… have you seen her?"

"Had a bit of a row, did ya?" he asked with a chuckle. "Them young fillies can be beautiful, but a right handful, if you don't know how to handle them."

A deep frown creased his brow, "Beg your pardon?"

"She came down late last night asking for her own room," he informed, "I assumed there was a… misunderstanding between the two of you."

"What room is she in."

"None, she left early this morning, about two hours ago--"

Will didn't stick around to hear what else the innkeeper had to say, he had the information he needed. She was already gone and hadn't bothered to wake him, not a good sign that. It only confirmed his suspicions that he had taken up with a woman of ill reputation, and that Sabine was more than likely, pissed.

He jogged most of the distance to the pier, his bag held in his right hand while his left kept the sword from bouncing haplessly. The docks quickly came into sight and with it The Black Pearl. It was tied to the furthest slip from the land, but the closest to the mouth of the bay. He slowed his steps, his shoes adding to those already bustling about preparing ships for departure or securing the newly arrived. The top deck of the Pearl was alive with movement, and above it all he could hear Jack bellowing out orders. The crew carried crates and rolled barrels up the gangway, as they chattered amongst themselves.

He recognized a handful of the men on the docks and the boat from the crew that sailed with Jack to help rescue Elizabeth, and gave a nod as he passed them on his way to the helm. The other watched the strange lad. Although he was dressed the part, he didn't have the look of a harden sailor, and they wondered what he was doing aboard the ship. For his part, Will wondered what the Captain had told his men, if he told them anything at all.

"Will," Jack greeted, giving the lad a golden grin. "I was starting to wonder if I had imagined last night or if it actually happened. Didn't you have a lass with you? Pretty in the face, blessed in the chest?"

"Her name's Sabine," Will corrected tersely.

"Ah yes, Sabine. Lovely girl, but I confess I'm surprised to see you with her. I thought you had already found a girl, mate," he commented, still grinning.

It was hard to tell if Jack was teasing, making idle talk, or if he was fishing for something, although Will would be willing to bet it was the latter. To some Jack may have just appeared to be a drunken pirate, or an imbecile, but the young man knew better. Rare were the deeds Jack did for no reason at all, and rarer the questions asked that weren't seeking answers.

"It's… It's a long story," Will stated simply not inclined to hash into his failed relationship with Elizabeth at that moment in time.

"And I'm sure we'll have plenty of time for tales after we've made way, so…" Jack rubbed his hands together. "Where's your new lass?"

"She's not here?" Will questioned, concern entering his words.

Jack gave an ambiguous shrug, "Last time I saw her was last night at the pub, mate."

"Bloody hell," Will groaned, and began making his way back to the gangway.

Images of Sabine lying dead in an alleyway, or in the thickets pushed to the front of his mind. If I hadn't been drunk… Will pushed the thought from his mind. He would berate himself later, now he needed to find his friend.

~~~

Sabine was pleased. She headed from the smithing shoppe to the pier ever conscious of the sword that was strapped to her right thigh. The grip had felt a little odd in her hand, as it had been designed for right-handed usage, and compared to other swords it was a plain thing, but it was hers. She felt more confident with the weapon at her side than she had earlier walking the streets. She may not have known how to use it, but the presence or the weapon went a long way in making her feel more secure.

The town was slowly pulling itself from the drunken stupor it sunk to the previous night. The streets held more residents moving back and forth, and the docks were alive with activity. Upon reaching the wharf, the young woman paused, her eyes taking in the sight of the ships before her. There's no going back from this point, she mused. Fear of the unknown rooting her feet to the cobblestone right before the wooden docks began.

"Stand aside, boy," a sailor snapped from behind, and pushed past her.

It marked the first time in her life she had been mistaken for a male. Of course it was the first time in her life she was dressed as one. Moving to the side as to not block the ebb and flow of bodies, Sabine stared ahead. At first her eyes tried to pick out which of the vast ships could be the Black Pearl. According to Will, the Pearl would stand out amongst the other ships of the port, but they all looked the same to her. Some were large, others were small, but any one of them could have been the famed ship.

She knew all she had to do was move down the dock. Sabine was not sea savvy, but she knew small things about ships, such as the name would be carved into the back of the boat, still she couldn't get her legs to move forward. The confidence she felt upon leaving the blacksmith's shoppe, was quickly being gobbled up by fear and self-doubt. It would have been so easy to enter the port agent's office and book passage back to Port Royal.

Sabine reached up with her right hand, her fingers curling around the pendant. Her eyes closing as she squeezed it tightly. "Give me strength, Papa," she whispered.

"Sabine?"

Her eyes snapped open, knowing she would see Will standing before her. All the anger she from earlier attempted to retreat at the sight of his partially bared chest, and his dark brown locks falling to his shoulders in a wave-like pattern. His chest heaved slightly, his breath returning from his run down the pier. The slight smile that threatened his lips at the relief of finding her unharmed, disappeared like fog chased by the morning sun as his eyes took in her appearance.

His heart wept at the sight, for outwardly there was almost nothing left of his Sabine. From the cruel butchery of her hair, to the loose flowing linen shirt and the dark slacks, to the hardening look in the depths of her dark eyes, and the sword that hung against her side. He reached for her hair, lifting one of the braids only to have her pull away from him. Will had always been able to read his friend; but now her eyes were completely closed to him.

"You've got a sword," he commented lamely, not sure what else to say.

"I bought it in town."

"Sabine I--"

"Jack's ship is this way, no?" she asked cutting him off and heading down the pier in the direction he had come from.

She didn't want to hear him apologize, didn't want to look at him. She was furious with him for the callous way he used her, but God help her she still loved him. She knew if he offered up an apology, if he took her into his arms and kissed her forehead tenderly while pressing her close she would crumble. So she turned away from him. Hoping that not seeing him would lessen the desire to fall back into his arms, that he didn't see the truth of her feelings hidden deep in her eyes.

"Sabine?"

Will reached out, his fingers gripped her bicep as she walked past, and turned her back to face him. He tried to catch her gaze, but her eyes looked every where but at him. She tugged away from him, widening the distance between them by taking a few steps back to ensure he couldn't reach for her again.

"Just take me to Sparrow's ship," she instructed. Her eyes darted to his face for only a brief moment before averting to the water.

A soft, barely audible sigh escaped Will's mouth. He murmured a soft, "This way," before he relented and took the lead back to the Pearl. She had to have known I would have a sword for her, why would she buy one? He didn't admit it to himself at that moment, but the one act stung more than her reaction to him.

He glanced over his shoulders. Noticing the distance she kept between them as she trailed behind, he couldn't help but to wonder if something else had happened last night, something different than the events his addle mind pieced together. She didn't act as if she was disgusted with him, as she had five years ago. Then she had no problem glaring at him as she slammed the door in his face, now it was like she couldn't bare the sight of him.

As they came to the last ship on the dock, Sabine felt her pulse speed up as her eyes tracked the length of the ship. It was smaller than the merchantman that bore them to Tortuga, but not by much. And even with the black sails tied up, it looked threatening. The supplies that littered the deck earlier were all but placed onto the ship as the pair climbed the gangway to the top deck. Jack was no longer at the helm where Will had left him. In his place stood Jack's first mate and the Pearl's Quartermaster, Anna-Maria.

She watched Will climb aboard followed by the girl, and sighed softly. All morning she had debated: should she pull the minx to a corner of the ship and explain the rules to her, or should she let her step slip and run her through at a later date? Her final decision had been to defer on action, to wait until she found out Jack's interest in her, Sabine's interest in Jack, and where Will fit into the pot. Was her story about her father true? Or was she just using Will to meet the notorious Captain?

Anna-Maria's mind told her not to trust the new comer. That she would be no different from every other female in her life; untrustworthy. Still, there was something about Sabine that wouldn't allow the pirate to dismiss her so casually. Something in Anna-Maria's gut that tried to override her natural mistrust of women. She certainly looks the part more than last night, she mused watching Gibs make his way to the pair. The old sailor was even less thrilled about taking Sabine aboard than Anna-Maria was.

"Will, Miss Sabine," the Pearl's Boatswain began stopping before Will and Sabine, "Jack be wanting your company in the ward room." He turned to lead the way, muttering about yet another woman being added to the crew, while silently Will and Sabine followed.