What's in a Name?
A/N: Well, this is a bit of a long chapter.consider it a
Christmas/Hanukah/Kwanza/Boxing Day/or any other holiday present from me to
you. Sorry it took me a while longer than I had anticipated to update but
my grandparents don't have a computer so its kinda hard to update. I hope
everyone survived the barrages of family.I narrowly escaped. Anywho, big
thanks to all my 9 reviewers! Yay! Oh yeah, Ipzy, Jack will not be a
creep the entire fic...he gets better after this chapter.I promise.
Disclaimer: I only own characters not in PoTC.ie, Christina, Colin, Tomas, Francois, and Jean (all of whom, except Christina, are introduced in this chapter)
Last time:
Sparrow moved closer and said, lips brushing my ear, "Come on, love, you'll warm up to me."
I snorted and tried to ignore the warm weight on my stomach. Shivering slightly from the cold, I closed my eyes. It was a long time before I fell asleep.
What's in a Name
Chapter 3: La Femme
When I woke, the sun was warming the room slightly. For a moment, I thought that I was still on my boat . . . still making the crossing from England with mum and still with one family member alive. But realization coursed through me like a jolt and I realized that this was indeed not the cabin that I had been living in for three months . . . but this was a pirate's cabin that the sun was illuminating, allowing me to see the cabin and its inhabitants in better light.
For some reason, I no longer felt as cold as I did when I went to sleep. I looked down and noticed a coat, an old one, draped across my body. Where did it come from? Then it came to me, Sparrow . . . he must have given it to me. But why? Didn't pirates take pleasure from their victims' suffering? All the stories I had ever heard had lead me to believe so . . . why was this one different?
The smell of the ocean and rum wafted up to my nose, his smell . . . Trying to be as quiet as possible, I moved the coat down on my body. I pressed my face into the pillow and tried to muffle the tears that seeped out my eyes. They slid down my face as the images of those that I had loved and lost flashed before me . . . my family . . . my friends . . . I buried my face further into the pillow and made a silent vow not to cry until this was over, one way or another. Resolutely, I wiped my eyes and sat up. Quickly, I located Sparrow, he was sitting at the desk pouring over some map or another.
At the sound of my movement, he looked up and said, "Finally awake love? I thought that maybe you broke into my rum during you little sojourn around me cabin and was sleeping off your drunkenness."
I glared at him and muttered, "I don't drink, sir."
"Might do you some good," Sparrow muttered back.
I stood and stretched feeling stiff and sore. "Do you have any clothes for me, or am I to wear this wretched thing all day?" I walked over to the window and stared out at the endless expanse of ocean glinting brightly out the window.
Before Sparrow could answer, Mr. Gibbs walked into the room. His kind eyes took in the situation, my state of dishabille and Sparrow's position at his desk. "Cap'n, you're needed on deck."
Without a word to me, Sparrow left.
Frustrated, I stood and made my way over to the door. But before I was half way there, I heard a key click noisily in the lock. The bloody idiot locked me in! Screaming in frustration, I kicked the door and pulled hard on the handle.
I had nothing to do now but wait. I paced around the cabin, periodically stopping to look at a map or trinket of some sorts before continuing. All the while, cursing Sparrow to the deepest depths of Hell. Every so often, I pulled on the door again, but all my pulling got me nothing, only a sore toe from kicking it in frustration.
Bored, I began looking around for something to do. I walked over to the desk and stared at the map spread out there. Of course, it did me little good, Father only taught me to read certain maps that would come in handy in future. I only knew what he had taught me and even then, I wasn't very skilled at reading maps, I never paid a great deal of attention to his lectures.
To my surprise, the door opened again and revealed Mr. Gibbs. The feeling of powerlessness washed over me again as he strode further into the cabin, so I did the only thing that I could do, I backed away.
Chuckling at my terror, he said, "Relax, lass. I mean ye no harm. Jes thinking ye might want some food, tis all."
At the mention of food, my stomach growled noisily, reminding me of exactly how long it had been since I had eaten. I nodded and said, "Food would be nice . . . but I'd be more grateful if you'd just let me go."
Mr. Gibbs smiled softly at me, like my grandfather use to look at me when I wanted something but couldn't possibly have my way and replied, "Sorry, lass, I can't do that . . . food, then?"
I nodded. I had been expecting this answer but my heart sank when I heard it.
He strode out and returned quickly, setting a plate of food on the desk.
"Thank you," I mumbled.
"Not a problem, lass," Mr. Gibbs said before he sat down in a chair fairly far away from me.
"Not meaning to be rude, but who are you?" I asked as I began eating the two pieces of bread and the apple.
"Gibbs, lass, Joshamee Gibbs. I be first mate on the Pearl."
"How did you come to be on the Pearl, Mr. Gibbs," I asked.
Smiling slightly, he replied, "Oh, I helped Jack on a little quest about a year ago to get the Pearl back. He had lost it to a bloke by the name of Barbossa, his former first mate, ten years before and swore to take revenge on him." For the next half an hour, I listened as Mr. Gibbs told me of how Jack . . . Sparrow, more rather, had been marooned on an island and the ordeal that followed ten years later.
"That's quite a story," I said. "But how did you meet Captain Sparrow?"
Mr. Gibbs laughed a little and said, "Well, I was in a pub in Tortuga and in walks Jack. The 'ole place got real quiet like and everyone stared at him. I suppose he was quite a sight. This was after he got off that island and well, he didn't look like he did now. But anyway, he had no money for a drink and I recognized him.anyone should recognize the famous Captain Jack Sparrow, and I go and buy him a drink. And we start a-talking and he brings up Barbossa. So I help him on a venture or two of his and a couple of years after we went our separate ways, he comes and wakes me up when I be sleeping, bad luck, that, and has me come help him get the Pearl back and here I am."
I nodded, not really knowing what to say. "Is Captain Sparrow going to kill me?" I asked.
Gibbs looked at me with that kind expression and said, "Don't worry yer pretty little head, lass, Cap'n Jack's a good man. He'll not do any harm to ye. It'll work out fine, you'll see."
I nodded again and asked, "But what is he going to do with me?" I persisted.
Gibbs didn't answer my question, he just stood and said, "I best be going, lass. There be some clothes in that chest over there, ye might want to change into something more . . . suitable for a young lady such as yerself," before leaving.
I sat motionless as he left and heard the lock click noisily back into place after he had left. Finally deciding to move, I made my way over to the chest. Upon opening it, all I found was pants, boots and some bandanas . . . well, this was interesting. I rummaged down to the bottom and still I only found pants. Didn't this man have anything other than men's clothing? Surely he had a dress stuffed away somewhere.but apparently not. So, gritting my teeth, I quickly donned the pants and shirt. A white shirt . . . best not get wet, I thought. I walked over to a mirror that Sparrow had and stared at my own reflection. Never before had I worn pants but . . . it was oddly comfortable. But the big question was what to do about shoes. I didn't have any and I imagined that Sparrow's would be several sizes too large for me. I walked back to the chest and searched again, nothing. Sighing, I grabbed my nightgown and tore off a strip of the hemline to tie back my hair. But now what? I wondered.
I stared around the cabin again, frustrated at the lack of things to do. What was I supposed to do? I had no clue. But I did notice that Sparrow was a very messy person. So, for lack of anything else to do, I began cleaning his cabin.
The bloody man had so many rum bottles, I just piled them up in a corner as I went. How much rum did one person need? Seriously? You could float a ship on all that he had.
By the time Sparrow returned around noon, I had his cabin completely cleaned and was sitting in the windowsill reading one of his numerous books.
"Wow, love, I must say," Sparrow commented after walking in. "I wasn't exactly expecting this!"
I quirked an eyebrow and asked, in an innocent voice, "And what exactly were you expecting, Captain?"
Sparrow walked further into the cabin . . . "Not this," he said. "Definitely not this." Finally he noticed the emptiness of his cabinet that I had 'accidentally' left open. Slowly he turned and asked in a voice of forced calm, "Love, where's the rum?"
I stared evenly back at him and replied, "Why, Captain Sparrow, it seemed that you had a bit too much of it. I just tossed it all out the window. I'm sure you have another stash of it somewhere."
Smothering a laugh, I watched as Captain Sparrow struggled to comprehend this sentence. His facial expressions switched from misunderstanding to comprehension to fury and finally to grief. "The rum is gone?" he muttered. "Why's the rum gone?"
My sides fit to burst, I started laughing and eventually, pointed to under the bed.
Sparrow looked from me to the bed with a longing in those dark eyes of his. Obviously trying to appear unconcerned, he made his way over to the bed and looked under it. I heard him breathe a sigh of relief upon realizing that all 23 bottles of rum were still in tact and in fine condition. After carefully removing all the bottles and replacing them in the cabin, Sparrow turned to me and said, "Don't touch the rum," in an almost hurt voice.
"Give me something to do and I won't have to," I retorted. "Its your own fault, leaving me locked in this bloody cabin all day. Only so much one can do."
"You're the one who turned down the idea of any fun," Sparrow said, waving his hands in the air to emphasis the word fun.
I glared back at him but didn't bother to comment. The man just wouldn't take a hint. But, when I heard the cry of "Land ho!," I looked at him and asked, "Where are we?"
"Just off of St. Croix," Sparrow said, not looking at me.
"But that's a French port," I persisted.
"Aye, 'tis."
Realization sunk through me like a leaden weight. "What's going to happen to me?" I asked quietly.
Sparrow still didn't look at me, he was shuffling papers on his desk, searching for something, I didn't know what.
"What's going to happen to me?" I asked louder.
Still my question merited no reply and Sparrow left the room without a word edgewise. I followed him to the door but he shut it quickly and I heard the lock click noisily into place. "What's going to happen to me?" I screamed.
Dejected, I sat on the floor by the door and listened as his footsteps retreated. Now I was completely out of luck, I thought. But there had to be some way that I could make myself useful so that I didn't end up who- knows-where. For all I know, he could want to sell me . . . at that thought, I shivered. Eventually, I mastered myself enough to stand and walk over to the window. I could not see much except some of the port city and a ship a little ways away from ours. La Femme.odd name for a ship but more oddly familiar. I had heard of that ship before.realization dawned on me as I saw a row boat being lowered with several men in it but instead of going ashore, they began rowing towards the Pearl.
It was a long time before anyone came to the cabin. Finally, I heard scuffling footsteps approaching and the door unlocked. I stood and was greeted by Mr. Gibbs.
"Mr. Gibbs," I said. "What's going on?"
"We've reached St. Croix, lass. And we're going ashore," he explained. Then he reached out for my arm. "Come on, lass, don't make this any harder."
"Mr. Gibbs," I asked in a shrill voice. "What is going to happen to me?" I questioned as I retreated into the room further.
Mr. Gibbs looked ashamed but said, "Captain's gonna sell ye along with some of the swag."
"He WHAT?" I yelled.
Gibbs didn't respond but grabbed my arm and led me onto the deck.
The bright sunlight blinded me and it took a moment to adjust to the light. Finally I saw Captain Sparrow staring down at me from the helm, but there was another man at his side, a man speaking in rapid French to his comrades. From the looks of it, Sparrow didn't speak French, or at least not enough of it to make his intentions clear. As Gibbs pulled me up to the helm, I saw Sparrow gesture to me. The Frenchmen nodded and gave Sparrow a small sack. Feeling desperate, I threw caution to the winds, again, and called out, "Hé, Monsieur ! Ne négociez pas avec lui ! Il vous volera juste. C'est son plan ! L'idiot ne parle pas français, il projette seulement sur vous voler. Ne lui faites pas confiance. Il m'a enlevé, ne lui font pas confiance. Il est un pirate. (Hey, Mister! Do not negotiate with him! He will steal from you. Its a plan! The idiot does not speak French, he will only trick you. Do not trust him. He kidnapped me, do not trust him. He is a pirate)
The man beside Sparrow looked at me questioningly. Then he asked, "Qui a la fille? " (Who is the girl)
As Gibbs continued to pull me closer, I called out again, "Mon nom est Christiana Smit. Mon père était un marin marchand français qui a tourné le pirate. Cet homme a assassiné ma mère et mon équipage. Il reviendra sur ses limites et vous trahira. Ne lui faites pas confiance." (My name is Christina Smit. My father was a French merchant sailor who turned pirate. This man killed my mother and my crew. He will go back on your bargain and betray you. Do not trust him.)
Sparrow looked at me with anger flashing in his eyes. Well, if he thought that I was going to go willingly, he was wrong.
Again, the first one addressed me, looking confused about why it mattered. "Et pourquoi devrions-nous croire ce que vous dites, fille ? Comment savons- nous que ce n'est pas une partie de son plan?" (And why should we believe what you say, girl? How we know that this not a part of his plan?)
I steeled myself for a moment and after taking one deep shuddering breath, I said, "Vous pas . Mais vous devez me faire confiance. Je. . . c'est mon seulement espoir. Ne m'achetez pas de lui. Ne faites pas ceci, s'il vous plait. Vous ne serez pas en ligne meilleur sans moi. S'il vous plait, juste laissez-moi seul." (You don't. But you must trust me. I. . its my only hope. Do not buy him to me. Do not do this, please You will be better off without me. Please leave me.)
I could hear disbelief etched in the voices of the first's companions. The second man asked me, a bit derisively, "Comment vous croyons-nous?" (How do we believe you?)
"Vous devez. Achetez les articles qu'ils ont pris de mon bateau. Je lui ferai l'élasticité vous un bon prix. Dans un des coffres est une lettre expliquant la situation qui ma mère et moi étaient dedans avant que nous ayons quitté l'Angleterre. Elle explique comment mon père et frère sont morts dans un accident de canotage. Mais au-dessous de celle dans la lettre est une liste de bateaux français sur lesquels mon père a navigué. Vôtre est l'un d'entre eux. Nous avons changé notre nom pour couvrir ses voies parce que mon père est devenu un pirate. J'ai seulement découvert ceci après qu'il soit mort. Mais avant, le nom de mon père était Pierre Delcot." (You must. Buy the articles that they took of my boat. I will get him to give you a good price. In one of the trunks is a letter explaining the situation in which my mother and I in before we left England. It explains how my father and brother died in a boating accident. But below that in the letter is a list of French boats on which my father sailed. Yours is one of them. We changed our name to cover his ways because my father became a pirate. I discovered only this after he died. But truly, the name of my father was Pierre Delcot.) 'Well, my secret was out,' I thought. 'So much for taking it to the grave and honoring my mother's wishes'
Finally I had caught their interest. I shrugged off Gibb's grip and walked closer to the French men and Sparrow. As soon as I was within reach, however, Sparrow grabbed my arm and tried to cover my mouth but the idea was already hatching in the French men's minds.
The third and final one turned to me said, "Est-il ce vrai? Vous êtes la fille de Pierre Delcot? Vraiment? Nous vérifierons le tronc, fille. Si c'est la vérité, alors nous vous laisserons sur ce bateau. Si c'est un mensonge, vous mourrez. Comprenez?" (Is this true? You are the daughter of Pierre Delcot? Truly? We will check the trunk, girl. If it is true, then we will leave you on this boat. If it is not, you will die. Understand?)
I raised my gaze to look into his blue eyes and said, "Oui, je comprends. Merci. Vous verrez que je dis la vérité, je jurez sur la tombe de mon père." (Yes, I understand. Thank you. You will see that I am telling the truth, I swear on my father's grave.)
"Nous verrons." (We will see) he said before addressing Sparrow. "Well, Captain Sparrow, we do not want ze girl, just le trunks."
Sparrow looked at me questioningly. He tightened the grip on my arm as a silent warning to keep quiet. "Gents, if you'll excuse me, the lass and I are going to have a wee little chat. Isn't that right, love?" The grip on my arm tightened so much that I gasped and nodded feebly. Sparrow pulled me down to his cabin and pushed me roughly inside before closing the door. "What the bloody hell did you just do?" he growled through clenched teeth.
I stared up at him innocently and replied, "I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about, Captain."
Anger flashed through Sparrow's eyes and he raised his arm to slap me but thought better of it. "What did you do?" he asked again.
"I just told those fine men not to trust you, not to buy me from you but instead buy the trunks that you stole from me and look inside of them," I said.
"And why should they look inside?"
"Because, in one of them is a little piece of paper that will, without doubt, come in very useful for them."
Sparrow gritted his teeth but asked in a voice of forced calm, "And that would be?"
"Information about my father," I stated.
"Why in the blazes would they care about your father?" Sparrow ground out.
"The same reason you should," I chirped, lithely stepping out of his loosened grip.
Slowly, as though every word was difficult, Sparrow asked, "Which would be?"
Finally I stopped my little game. If I kept it up much longer, I would likely get myself smacked. "Alright, my father was Pierre Delcot. As a young boy, he ran away to be a cabin boy on a French merchant vessel. When he was twelve, pirates attacked their ship. His captain told him to hide and he managed to sneak onto the pirate ship and hide below deck. So Papa was found three days later and was only allowed to stay because the captain took a liking to him. Time passed and eventually, he had his own ship and wealth to boot. Papa met Mum when he was raiding her ship and they eventually fell in love. Mum flatly refused to marry outside the Church of England. So Papa hid his treasure on an island, leaving clues and instructions for those who could read it, changed his name and settled down in England under the name of James Smit."
Sparrow's eyebrows had long since vanished into his bandana and he stared at me mouthing wordlessly like a fish out of water. Finally, he found his tongue and muttered, "You're father.Pierre Delcot..Delcot's lost treasure."
I looked up at him and nodded, "Yes, that's right."
Sparrow looked at me, apparently he had forgotten that I was there. "Lass, is this the truth?"
I sighed, "Yes, it is, you idiot."
"It's the truth?" he asked again.
"Yes!"
Sparrow smiled widely, showing off his gold teeth. "You're going to make me very, very rich, love," he said before grabbing my hands and dancing me around his cabin.
Flustered, I tried to keep up with him. "Captain Sparrow, do me a favour and let me go," and though I meant let my hands go, I think he thought I meant let me go go.
"Oh no, lass. You aren't going anywhere. You're going to make me one rich old pirate! You ain't going nowhere!" Sparrow said in a giddy voice.
I pulled away from him and said, "You'll only be a rich pirate if I help you find the treasure."
Sparrow stopped muttering to himself. His hands danced in the air on their own accord as he said, "You'll help me find the bloody treasure, lass. Let's not forget who's got the power in this situation. Besides there are ways to persuade young ladies such as yourself into doing things. Do I make myself clear or do you need a demonstration?"
I raised an eyebrow but asked, "What's in it for me?"
Sparrow glared at me and said, "What do you want?"
"When this is over, I want a share of the treasure, enough to support me for the rest of my life and I want to be let go. No more pirates in my life. I don't want to see hide or hair of you after this is done, Sparrow, I mean it," to add effect to my seriousness, I put my hands on my hips in a way that my mother would always do when she was mad . . . a pang of grief went through me but I stuffed it back down, I could mourn after this was over.
"Aye, love, I believe we have an accord," Sparrow said, sticking his hand out. I took it but instead of shaking my hand, Sparrow pulled me into a kiss.
Sputtering, I pulled back and said, "What the hell was that for?"
Sparrow shrugged, led me out of the cabin back on deck and up to the three French men.
They were muttering to each other in rapid French as we approached but quickly stopped, looking curious.
"Well, gents, I hate to say it, but the deal's off. So just scurry off the ship and be gone with ye, savvy?" Sparrow said.
The first man looked fit to burst. He glanced from Sparrow to me and back to Sparrow. "No, no, Meester Sparrow. We want a share in ze treasure too. We already bought ze trunks. Don't make us take ze girl by force."
Sparrow looked down at me and said, "Oh, her, you don't want her. Right little devil she is. Won't listen to anybody. Only trouble. You'd have to keep her tied up all day. She won't listen, the stupid chit."
I growled under my breath in protest to being called that but kept queit.
"We can break her in, Sparrow, just hand her over," the Frenchmen said. "It won't be a problem."
Sighing in frustration, Sparrow said, "How bouts this, mate, we sail side by side and when we get to the treasure, we split it 70-30."
"70-30?!" the Frenchmen cried. "Vhat kind of a deal is zhat?"
"The kind that I've got the girl, I've got the clues, and I've got the maps. So you can take it or leave it, savvy?"
A smattering of French was exchanged between the three and I listened as they debated whether or not to agree. "Fine, you win, zhis time, Sparrow."
Sparrow clapped his hands together and inclined his head slightly. "Alright, then. We set sail tomorrow for . . . for . . . Where are we going, lass?"
Smirking, I said, "Well, we need to get to Madagascar. There is something that my father left that I have to get before we can pinpoint the island but I know the general location. I don't even know what I'm looking for in Madagascar, I am just supposed to go to a man named Black-Eyed Pete and he's supposed to point me in the right direction. My father wrote about the man in his memoirs that my mum gave me after he died."
Sparrow said, "So, that's settled, then, we set sail for Madagascar tomorrow morning. In the mean time," and heaving in a great breath, he bellowed, "Shore leave till dawn!"
The crew cheered and made their way off the ship.
"Who are you?" I asked the others.
"Je suis Tomas Potier, mon ami Francois Monet, et mon frere Jean Potier. It is a pleasure to meet you Mademoiselle Delcot." (I am Tomas Potier, my friend Francois Monet and my brother Jean Potier. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Delcot.)
I curtseyed and smiled faintly.
"Are we quite finished with formalities or are we all going to have tea and crumpets in me cabin?" Sparrow asked from beside me. Tomas nodded and Sparrow added, "Well, then, come along lass, we have some unfinished business to attend to in me cabin. In the morning, gentlemen."
Sparrow grabbed my arm and pulled me towards his cabin. Once we were inside, he asked, "Now would you care to enlighten me as to what exactly you are getting us into or is that something that you have conveniently forgotten too?"
"I don't know. Papa never said anything about it. It was Mum who told me about him and gave me his memoirs. I never knew why he had us learn the things we did," I answered honestly.
"Mmmhmmm.I'm sure. But lets start with what you do know, shall we?" Sparrow persisted.
"I already told you all that I bloody know, okay? I don't know what else you want!" I cried, exasperated and with that, I started to pace around the cabin. I stopped in front of the window and stared out at the glittering lights of St. Croix in front of me. An arm snaked around my waist pulling me into a warm body and I started.
"Easy, there, love. I ain't gonna hurt you," Sparrow said in my ear.
I stepped out of his grasp and turned so I could see him. "Yeah, you aren't going to hurt me. You are a pirate! You were going to sell me to those men before I told you about the treasure! But, no, you're not going to hurt me. Tell it to someone who believes it, Sparrow. Don't waste your breath on me."
Sparrow walked over to the desk, accepting defeat and pulled out a map from the drawer. "Do you know where the island is?" he asked.
I walked over and stood behind him, "It should be right around there," I said pointing to Madagascar. "But I don't know the exact coordinates. Papa never told us, in case something like this were to happen," I added.
"Your papa was a smart man," Sparrow said. "Well, love, I'll be off then. Stay here until I get back. You aren't to leave the cabin," Sparrow instructed as he started to leave the cabin.
"Wait a moment!" I called after him. "What am I supposed to do now?"
Sparrow shrugged and shut the door in my face. I listened as the key turned in the lock before I sat down at the desk. I stared at the map of Madagascar.where did Papa leave the treasure? And what exactly was waiting for us there? I knew that it had to be dangerous.that was why he never told us exactly what was the treasure was.
Disclaimer: I only own characters not in PoTC.ie, Christina, Colin, Tomas, Francois, and Jean (all of whom, except Christina, are introduced in this chapter)
Last time:
Sparrow moved closer and said, lips brushing my ear, "Come on, love, you'll warm up to me."
I snorted and tried to ignore the warm weight on my stomach. Shivering slightly from the cold, I closed my eyes. It was a long time before I fell asleep.
What's in a Name
Chapter 3: La Femme
When I woke, the sun was warming the room slightly. For a moment, I thought that I was still on my boat . . . still making the crossing from England with mum and still with one family member alive. But realization coursed through me like a jolt and I realized that this was indeed not the cabin that I had been living in for three months . . . but this was a pirate's cabin that the sun was illuminating, allowing me to see the cabin and its inhabitants in better light.
For some reason, I no longer felt as cold as I did when I went to sleep. I looked down and noticed a coat, an old one, draped across my body. Where did it come from? Then it came to me, Sparrow . . . he must have given it to me. But why? Didn't pirates take pleasure from their victims' suffering? All the stories I had ever heard had lead me to believe so . . . why was this one different?
The smell of the ocean and rum wafted up to my nose, his smell . . . Trying to be as quiet as possible, I moved the coat down on my body. I pressed my face into the pillow and tried to muffle the tears that seeped out my eyes. They slid down my face as the images of those that I had loved and lost flashed before me . . . my family . . . my friends . . . I buried my face further into the pillow and made a silent vow not to cry until this was over, one way or another. Resolutely, I wiped my eyes and sat up. Quickly, I located Sparrow, he was sitting at the desk pouring over some map or another.
At the sound of my movement, he looked up and said, "Finally awake love? I thought that maybe you broke into my rum during you little sojourn around me cabin and was sleeping off your drunkenness."
I glared at him and muttered, "I don't drink, sir."
"Might do you some good," Sparrow muttered back.
I stood and stretched feeling stiff and sore. "Do you have any clothes for me, or am I to wear this wretched thing all day?" I walked over to the window and stared out at the endless expanse of ocean glinting brightly out the window.
Before Sparrow could answer, Mr. Gibbs walked into the room. His kind eyes took in the situation, my state of dishabille and Sparrow's position at his desk. "Cap'n, you're needed on deck."
Without a word to me, Sparrow left.
Frustrated, I stood and made my way over to the door. But before I was half way there, I heard a key click noisily in the lock. The bloody idiot locked me in! Screaming in frustration, I kicked the door and pulled hard on the handle.
I had nothing to do now but wait. I paced around the cabin, periodically stopping to look at a map or trinket of some sorts before continuing. All the while, cursing Sparrow to the deepest depths of Hell. Every so often, I pulled on the door again, but all my pulling got me nothing, only a sore toe from kicking it in frustration.
Bored, I began looking around for something to do. I walked over to the desk and stared at the map spread out there. Of course, it did me little good, Father only taught me to read certain maps that would come in handy in future. I only knew what he had taught me and even then, I wasn't very skilled at reading maps, I never paid a great deal of attention to his lectures.
To my surprise, the door opened again and revealed Mr. Gibbs. The feeling of powerlessness washed over me again as he strode further into the cabin, so I did the only thing that I could do, I backed away.
Chuckling at my terror, he said, "Relax, lass. I mean ye no harm. Jes thinking ye might want some food, tis all."
At the mention of food, my stomach growled noisily, reminding me of exactly how long it had been since I had eaten. I nodded and said, "Food would be nice . . . but I'd be more grateful if you'd just let me go."
Mr. Gibbs smiled softly at me, like my grandfather use to look at me when I wanted something but couldn't possibly have my way and replied, "Sorry, lass, I can't do that . . . food, then?"
I nodded. I had been expecting this answer but my heart sank when I heard it.
He strode out and returned quickly, setting a plate of food on the desk.
"Thank you," I mumbled.
"Not a problem, lass," Mr. Gibbs said before he sat down in a chair fairly far away from me.
"Not meaning to be rude, but who are you?" I asked as I began eating the two pieces of bread and the apple.
"Gibbs, lass, Joshamee Gibbs. I be first mate on the Pearl."
"How did you come to be on the Pearl, Mr. Gibbs," I asked.
Smiling slightly, he replied, "Oh, I helped Jack on a little quest about a year ago to get the Pearl back. He had lost it to a bloke by the name of Barbossa, his former first mate, ten years before and swore to take revenge on him." For the next half an hour, I listened as Mr. Gibbs told me of how Jack . . . Sparrow, more rather, had been marooned on an island and the ordeal that followed ten years later.
"That's quite a story," I said. "But how did you meet Captain Sparrow?"
Mr. Gibbs laughed a little and said, "Well, I was in a pub in Tortuga and in walks Jack. The 'ole place got real quiet like and everyone stared at him. I suppose he was quite a sight. This was after he got off that island and well, he didn't look like he did now. But anyway, he had no money for a drink and I recognized him.anyone should recognize the famous Captain Jack Sparrow, and I go and buy him a drink. And we start a-talking and he brings up Barbossa. So I help him on a venture or two of his and a couple of years after we went our separate ways, he comes and wakes me up when I be sleeping, bad luck, that, and has me come help him get the Pearl back and here I am."
I nodded, not really knowing what to say. "Is Captain Sparrow going to kill me?" I asked.
Gibbs looked at me with that kind expression and said, "Don't worry yer pretty little head, lass, Cap'n Jack's a good man. He'll not do any harm to ye. It'll work out fine, you'll see."
I nodded again and asked, "But what is he going to do with me?" I persisted.
Gibbs didn't answer my question, he just stood and said, "I best be going, lass. There be some clothes in that chest over there, ye might want to change into something more . . . suitable for a young lady such as yerself," before leaving.
I sat motionless as he left and heard the lock click noisily back into place after he had left. Finally deciding to move, I made my way over to the chest. Upon opening it, all I found was pants, boots and some bandanas . . . well, this was interesting. I rummaged down to the bottom and still I only found pants. Didn't this man have anything other than men's clothing? Surely he had a dress stuffed away somewhere.but apparently not. So, gritting my teeth, I quickly donned the pants and shirt. A white shirt . . . best not get wet, I thought. I walked over to a mirror that Sparrow had and stared at my own reflection. Never before had I worn pants but . . . it was oddly comfortable. But the big question was what to do about shoes. I didn't have any and I imagined that Sparrow's would be several sizes too large for me. I walked back to the chest and searched again, nothing. Sighing, I grabbed my nightgown and tore off a strip of the hemline to tie back my hair. But now what? I wondered.
I stared around the cabin again, frustrated at the lack of things to do. What was I supposed to do? I had no clue. But I did notice that Sparrow was a very messy person. So, for lack of anything else to do, I began cleaning his cabin.
The bloody man had so many rum bottles, I just piled them up in a corner as I went. How much rum did one person need? Seriously? You could float a ship on all that he had.
By the time Sparrow returned around noon, I had his cabin completely cleaned and was sitting in the windowsill reading one of his numerous books.
"Wow, love, I must say," Sparrow commented after walking in. "I wasn't exactly expecting this!"
I quirked an eyebrow and asked, in an innocent voice, "And what exactly were you expecting, Captain?"
Sparrow walked further into the cabin . . . "Not this," he said. "Definitely not this." Finally he noticed the emptiness of his cabinet that I had 'accidentally' left open. Slowly he turned and asked in a voice of forced calm, "Love, where's the rum?"
I stared evenly back at him and replied, "Why, Captain Sparrow, it seemed that you had a bit too much of it. I just tossed it all out the window. I'm sure you have another stash of it somewhere."
Smothering a laugh, I watched as Captain Sparrow struggled to comprehend this sentence. His facial expressions switched from misunderstanding to comprehension to fury and finally to grief. "The rum is gone?" he muttered. "Why's the rum gone?"
My sides fit to burst, I started laughing and eventually, pointed to under the bed.
Sparrow looked from me to the bed with a longing in those dark eyes of his. Obviously trying to appear unconcerned, he made his way over to the bed and looked under it. I heard him breathe a sigh of relief upon realizing that all 23 bottles of rum were still in tact and in fine condition. After carefully removing all the bottles and replacing them in the cabin, Sparrow turned to me and said, "Don't touch the rum," in an almost hurt voice.
"Give me something to do and I won't have to," I retorted. "Its your own fault, leaving me locked in this bloody cabin all day. Only so much one can do."
"You're the one who turned down the idea of any fun," Sparrow said, waving his hands in the air to emphasis the word fun.
I glared back at him but didn't bother to comment. The man just wouldn't take a hint. But, when I heard the cry of "Land ho!," I looked at him and asked, "Where are we?"
"Just off of St. Croix," Sparrow said, not looking at me.
"But that's a French port," I persisted.
"Aye, 'tis."
Realization sunk through me like a leaden weight. "What's going to happen to me?" I asked quietly.
Sparrow still didn't look at me, he was shuffling papers on his desk, searching for something, I didn't know what.
"What's going to happen to me?" I asked louder.
Still my question merited no reply and Sparrow left the room without a word edgewise. I followed him to the door but he shut it quickly and I heard the lock click noisily into place. "What's going to happen to me?" I screamed.
Dejected, I sat on the floor by the door and listened as his footsteps retreated. Now I was completely out of luck, I thought. But there had to be some way that I could make myself useful so that I didn't end up who- knows-where. For all I know, he could want to sell me . . . at that thought, I shivered. Eventually, I mastered myself enough to stand and walk over to the window. I could not see much except some of the port city and a ship a little ways away from ours. La Femme.odd name for a ship but more oddly familiar. I had heard of that ship before.realization dawned on me as I saw a row boat being lowered with several men in it but instead of going ashore, they began rowing towards the Pearl.
It was a long time before anyone came to the cabin. Finally, I heard scuffling footsteps approaching and the door unlocked. I stood and was greeted by Mr. Gibbs.
"Mr. Gibbs," I said. "What's going on?"
"We've reached St. Croix, lass. And we're going ashore," he explained. Then he reached out for my arm. "Come on, lass, don't make this any harder."
"Mr. Gibbs," I asked in a shrill voice. "What is going to happen to me?" I questioned as I retreated into the room further.
Mr. Gibbs looked ashamed but said, "Captain's gonna sell ye along with some of the swag."
"He WHAT?" I yelled.
Gibbs didn't respond but grabbed my arm and led me onto the deck.
The bright sunlight blinded me and it took a moment to adjust to the light. Finally I saw Captain Sparrow staring down at me from the helm, but there was another man at his side, a man speaking in rapid French to his comrades. From the looks of it, Sparrow didn't speak French, or at least not enough of it to make his intentions clear. As Gibbs pulled me up to the helm, I saw Sparrow gesture to me. The Frenchmen nodded and gave Sparrow a small sack. Feeling desperate, I threw caution to the winds, again, and called out, "Hé, Monsieur ! Ne négociez pas avec lui ! Il vous volera juste. C'est son plan ! L'idiot ne parle pas français, il projette seulement sur vous voler. Ne lui faites pas confiance. Il m'a enlevé, ne lui font pas confiance. Il est un pirate. (Hey, Mister! Do not negotiate with him! He will steal from you. Its a plan! The idiot does not speak French, he will only trick you. Do not trust him. He kidnapped me, do not trust him. He is a pirate)
The man beside Sparrow looked at me questioningly. Then he asked, "Qui a la fille? " (Who is the girl)
As Gibbs continued to pull me closer, I called out again, "Mon nom est Christiana Smit. Mon père était un marin marchand français qui a tourné le pirate. Cet homme a assassiné ma mère et mon équipage. Il reviendra sur ses limites et vous trahira. Ne lui faites pas confiance." (My name is Christina Smit. My father was a French merchant sailor who turned pirate. This man killed my mother and my crew. He will go back on your bargain and betray you. Do not trust him.)
Sparrow looked at me with anger flashing in his eyes. Well, if he thought that I was going to go willingly, he was wrong.
Again, the first one addressed me, looking confused about why it mattered. "Et pourquoi devrions-nous croire ce que vous dites, fille ? Comment savons- nous que ce n'est pas une partie de son plan?" (And why should we believe what you say, girl? How we know that this not a part of his plan?)
I steeled myself for a moment and after taking one deep shuddering breath, I said, "Vous pas . Mais vous devez me faire confiance. Je. . . c'est mon seulement espoir. Ne m'achetez pas de lui. Ne faites pas ceci, s'il vous plait. Vous ne serez pas en ligne meilleur sans moi. S'il vous plait, juste laissez-moi seul." (You don't. But you must trust me. I. . its my only hope. Do not buy him to me. Do not do this, please You will be better off without me. Please leave me.)
I could hear disbelief etched in the voices of the first's companions. The second man asked me, a bit derisively, "Comment vous croyons-nous?" (How do we believe you?)
"Vous devez. Achetez les articles qu'ils ont pris de mon bateau. Je lui ferai l'élasticité vous un bon prix. Dans un des coffres est une lettre expliquant la situation qui ma mère et moi étaient dedans avant que nous ayons quitté l'Angleterre. Elle explique comment mon père et frère sont morts dans un accident de canotage. Mais au-dessous de celle dans la lettre est une liste de bateaux français sur lesquels mon père a navigué. Vôtre est l'un d'entre eux. Nous avons changé notre nom pour couvrir ses voies parce que mon père est devenu un pirate. J'ai seulement découvert ceci après qu'il soit mort. Mais avant, le nom de mon père était Pierre Delcot." (You must. Buy the articles that they took of my boat. I will get him to give you a good price. In one of the trunks is a letter explaining the situation in which my mother and I in before we left England. It explains how my father and brother died in a boating accident. But below that in the letter is a list of French boats on which my father sailed. Yours is one of them. We changed our name to cover his ways because my father became a pirate. I discovered only this after he died. But truly, the name of my father was Pierre Delcot.) 'Well, my secret was out,' I thought. 'So much for taking it to the grave and honoring my mother's wishes'
Finally I had caught their interest. I shrugged off Gibb's grip and walked closer to the French men and Sparrow. As soon as I was within reach, however, Sparrow grabbed my arm and tried to cover my mouth but the idea was already hatching in the French men's minds.
The third and final one turned to me said, "Est-il ce vrai? Vous êtes la fille de Pierre Delcot? Vraiment? Nous vérifierons le tronc, fille. Si c'est la vérité, alors nous vous laisserons sur ce bateau. Si c'est un mensonge, vous mourrez. Comprenez?" (Is this true? You are the daughter of Pierre Delcot? Truly? We will check the trunk, girl. If it is true, then we will leave you on this boat. If it is not, you will die. Understand?)
I raised my gaze to look into his blue eyes and said, "Oui, je comprends. Merci. Vous verrez que je dis la vérité, je jurez sur la tombe de mon père." (Yes, I understand. Thank you. You will see that I am telling the truth, I swear on my father's grave.)
"Nous verrons." (We will see) he said before addressing Sparrow. "Well, Captain Sparrow, we do not want ze girl, just le trunks."
Sparrow looked at me questioningly. He tightened the grip on my arm as a silent warning to keep quiet. "Gents, if you'll excuse me, the lass and I are going to have a wee little chat. Isn't that right, love?" The grip on my arm tightened so much that I gasped and nodded feebly. Sparrow pulled me down to his cabin and pushed me roughly inside before closing the door. "What the bloody hell did you just do?" he growled through clenched teeth.
I stared up at him innocently and replied, "I haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about, Captain."
Anger flashed through Sparrow's eyes and he raised his arm to slap me but thought better of it. "What did you do?" he asked again.
"I just told those fine men not to trust you, not to buy me from you but instead buy the trunks that you stole from me and look inside of them," I said.
"And why should they look inside?"
"Because, in one of them is a little piece of paper that will, without doubt, come in very useful for them."
Sparrow gritted his teeth but asked in a voice of forced calm, "And that would be?"
"Information about my father," I stated.
"Why in the blazes would they care about your father?" Sparrow ground out.
"The same reason you should," I chirped, lithely stepping out of his loosened grip.
Slowly, as though every word was difficult, Sparrow asked, "Which would be?"
Finally I stopped my little game. If I kept it up much longer, I would likely get myself smacked. "Alright, my father was Pierre Delcot. As a young boy, he ran away to be a cabin boy on a French merchant vessel. When he was twelve, pirates attacked their ship. His captain told him to hide and he managed to sneak onto the pirate ship and hide below deck. So Papa was found three days later and was only allowed to stay because the captain took a liking to him. Time passed and eventually, he had his own ship and wealth to boot. Papa met Mum when he was raiding her ship and they eventually fell in love. Mum flatly refused to marry outside the Church of England. So Papa hid his treasure on an island, leaving clues and instructions for those who could read it, changed his name and settled down in England under the name of James Smit."
Sparrow's eyebrows had long since vanished into his bandana and he stared at me mouthing wordlessly like a fish out of water. Finally, he found his tongue and muttered, "You're father.Pierre Delcot..Delcot's lost treasure."
I looked up at him and nodded, "Yes, that's right."
Sparrow looked at me, apparently he had forgotten that I was there. "Lass, is this the truth?"
I sighed, "Yes, it is, you idiot."
"It's the truth?" he asked again.
"Yes!"
Sparrow smiled widely, showing off his gold teeth. "You're going to make me very, very rich, love," he said before grabbing my hands and dancing me around his cabin.
Flustered, I tried to keep up with him. "Captain Sparrow, do me a favour and let me go," and though I meant let my hands go, I think he thought I meant let me go go.
"Oh no, lass. You aren't going anywhere. You're going to make me one rich old pirate! You ain't going nowhere!" Sparrow said in a giddy voice.
I pulled away from him and said, "You'll only be a rich pirate if I help you find the treasure."
Sparrow stopped muttering to himself. His hands danced in the air on their own accord as he said, "You'll help me find the bloody treasure, lass. Let's not forget who's got the power in this situation. Besides there are ways to persuade young ladies such as yourself into doing things. Do I make myself clear or do you need a demonstration?"
I raised an eyebrow but asked, "What's in it for me?"
Sparrow glared at me and said, "What do you want?"
"When this is over, I want a share of the treasure, enough to support me for the rest of my life and I want to be let go. No more pirates in my life. I don't want to see hide or hair of you after this is done, Sparrow, I mean it," to add effect to my seriousness, I put my hands on my hips in a way that my mother would always do when she was mad . . . a pang of grief went through me but I stuffed it back down, I could mourn after this was over.
"Aye, love, I believe we have an accord," Sparrow said, sticking his hand out. I took it but instead of shaking my hand, Sparrow pulled me into a kiss.
Sputtering, I pulled back and said, "What the hell was that for?"
Sparrow shrugged, led me out of the cabin back on deck and up to the three French men.
They were muttering to each other in rapid French as we approached but quickly stopped, looking curious.
"Well, gents, I hate to say it, but the deal's off. So just scurry off the ship and be gone with ye, savvy?" Sparrow said.
The first man looked fit to burst. He glanced from Sparrow to me and back to Sparrow. "No, no, Meester Sparrow. We want a share in ze treasure too. We already bought ze trunks. Don't make us take ze girl by force."
Sparrow looked down at me and said, "Oh, her, you don't want her. Right little devil she is. Won't listen to anybody. Only trouble. You'd have to keep her tied up all day. She won't listen, the stupid chit."
I growled under my breath in protest to being called that but kept queit.
"We can break her in, Sparrow, just hand her over," the Frenchmen said. "It won't be a problem."
Sighing in frustration, Sparrow said, "How bouts this, mate, we sail side by side and when we get to the treasure, we split it 70-30."
"70-30?!" the Frenchmen cried. "Vhat kind of a deal is zhat?"
"The kind that I've got the girl, I've got the clues, and I've got the maps. So you can take it or leave it, savvy?"
A smattering of French was exchanged between the three and I listened as they debated whether or not to agree. "Fine, you win, zhis time, Sparrow."
Sparrow clapped his hands together and inclined his head slightly. "Alright, then. We set sail tomorrow for . . . for . . . Where are we going, lass?"
Smirking, I said, "Well, we need to get to Madagascar. There is something that my father left that I have to get before we can pinpoint the island but I know the general location. I don't even know what I'm looking for in Madagascar, I am just supposed to go to a man named Black-Eyed Pete and he's supposed to point me in the right direction. My father wrote about the man in his memoirs that my mum gave me after he died."
Sparrow said, "So, that's settled, then, we set sail for Madagascar tomorrow morning. In the mean time," and heaving in a great breath, he bellowed, "Shore leave till dawn!"
The crew cheered and made their way off the ship.
"Who are you?" I asked the others.
"Je suis Tomas Potier, mon ami Francois Monet, et mon frere Jean Potier. It is a pleasure to meet you Mademoiselle Delcot." (I am Tomas Potier, my friend Francois Monet and my brother Jean Potier. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Delcot.)
I curtseyed and smiled faintly.
"Are we quite finished with formalities or are we all going to have tea and crumpets in me cabin?" Sparrow asked from beside me. Tomas nodded and Sparrow added, "Well, then, come along lass, we have some unfinished business to attend to in me cabin. In the morning, gentlemen."
Sparrow grabbed my arm and pulled me towards his cabin. Once we were inside, he asked, "Now would you care to enlighten me as to what exactly you are getting us into or is that something that you have conveniently forgotten too?"
"I don't know. Papa never said anything about it. It was Mum who told me about him and gave me his memoirs. I never knew why he had us learn the things we did," I answered honestly.
"Mmmhmmm.I'm sure. But lets start with what you do know, shall we?" Sparrow persisted.
"I already told you all that I bloody know, okay? I don't know what else you want!" I cried, exasperated and with that, I started to pace around the cabin. I stopped in front of the window and stared out at the glittering lights of St. Croix in front of me. An arm snaked around my waist pulling me into a warm body and I started.
"Easy, there, love. I ain't gonna hurt you," Sparrow said in my ear.
I stepped out of his grasp and turned so I could see him. "Yeah, you aren't going to hurt me. You are a pirate! You were going to sell me to those men before I told you about the treasure! But, no, you're not going to hurt me. Tell it to someone who believes it, Sparrow. Don't waste your breath on me."
Sparrow walked over to the desk, accepting defeat and pulled out a map from the drawer. "Do you know where the island is?" he asked.
I walked over and stood behind him, "It should be right around there," I said pointing to Madagascar. "But I don't know the exact coordinates. Papa never told us, in case something like this were to happen," I added.
"Your papa was a smart man," Sparrow said. "Well, love, I'll be off then. Stay here until I get back. You aren't to leave the cabin," Sparrow instructed as he started to leave the cabin.
"Wait a moment!" I called after him. "What am I supposed to do now?"
Sparrow shrugged and shut the door in my face. I listened as the key turned in the lock before I sat down at the desk. I stared at the map of Madagascar.where did Papa leave the treasure? And what exactly was waiting for us there? I knew that it had to be dangerous.that was why he never told us exactly what was the treasure was.