A/N – Okay, so everyone's just going to have to be patient with me in the next few weeks. I just got a new job (yay me!)… and it's 300-some miles away from where I currently reside. I have to be where I need to be come March 1st… so things are going to get crazy. Updates will probably be few and far between in that time. I'll try to write as much as I can, but Internet access will be veeeeerrrry touch and go from here on out. So, this is an apology, in advance… Savvy?? :P
A/N2: So, I just locked myself out of my own database(that I've been working on for almost a month and am two steps shy of finishing it) that I'm creating for my current employers. I'm absolutely frustrated with myself and my moment of stupidity. I can't figure out how to get back into it and I'm ready to scream. Stupid toolbars! So, I decided to take a LONG needed break from it and do some writing. So, please be nice and review. It'll make me feel 110 better than I do right now… :)
Ana slowly entered the cabin that had been her home for the past few days. The table that sat off to the side was set for two with a fairly lavish spread across the small table. A frown crossed her face when she realized that this was something that she was unaccustomed to. Or at least it seemed that way. Nor, did it seem, was she accustomed to the company. Ana's eyes raked over the captain's finery, her eyes resting on the hilt of his sword. A hand fisted in the heavy, coarse material of the dress… her hand longing to reach out and take the weapon. Damien caught her movement and misunderstood.
"I'm sorry we couldn't find you anything more… appealing for you to wear," he said, his eyes roaming over the shapeless dress that hung loosely on her slim frame. Ana's chin went up.
"It's not the dress' fit, captain… I believe it's the fact that it is a dress," she said, her other hand fisted another handful of the unsatisfactory cloth. Damien inclined his head to one side slightly as his clear blue eyes met hers.
"Perhaps you'd like to explain what you mean by that," he suggested, a slight smile forming on his face. Ana shrugged her shoulders.
"No offense meant, but I think I'd be more comfortable in those… and with one of those," she said, pointing to his breeches and then to his sword. The smirk that crossed the captain's face was almost contemptuous and it infuriated her.
"And what, perhaps, would you do with such things?" he asked, as if amused. Ana wisely kept her face expressionless even though her own contempt was rising with every word the man spoke.
"I'd use them, o' course…" she said. Damien let out a little laugh, causing Ana to frown again.
"I've suspected as much," he replied. This time, Ana looked at him in confusion.
"What do you mean?" she asked. Damien shook his head.
"You are more than what you seemed to be Miss…" he started, stopping when he realized that he had yet to learn her name. But of course, Ana was equally as clueless. She shook her head sadly at his prompting.
"I'm sorry… I… I don't remember…" she said, frustration growing in her chest. The captain reached forward and grasped her hand, causing her to look up at him.
"It's alright. Don't press yourself. It'll come, in time. All the while, we shall call you Marie… after my mother… She was such a lovely woman, just as you are," he said, bringing her hand to his lips. Ana watched his flaxen head bow over her hand and was one part flattered at his attention and one part disgusted. She rolled the new name around her head for a moment as she neatly withdrew her hand from his. Marie… it fit like a new shoe. The size felt right, but it still wasn't comfortable.
"Aye," she commented. "Marie'll do… for now…" Damien smiled at her acceptance.
"Wonderful," he commented as he went to the table and pulled out the chair for her to sit in. Ana lifted her chin and went to the other chair, pulled it out for herself, and sat. As Damien watched, she reached forward and took a piece of bread from the plate it sat on. Ana eyed it carefully for a second before taking a large bite from it. Recovered from the slight, Damien sat himself in the chair he had pulled out.
"It's nice to see you returning to what must be past form," he said with an edge to it. Ana's eyes held a curiosity that didn't ring quite true.
"Is this how I was then?" she asked after swallowing her mouthful. Damien poured her a glass of wine before his blue eyes locked onto hers.
"I have no idea what you were like before we found you. But after observing you for the past few days, I'd have to say you must have been an enigma to all," he said. Ana sat back in her chair and observed him.
"I'll take that as a compliment," she said finally with a small, almost indistinguishable smile. Damien's hand reached for his glass and he took a calculated sip of the rich liquid.
"Rest assured that I never meant it to be anything else," he said, a smile warming his features considerably.
"Fine," Ana answered, more interested in the food in front of her than in listening to him prattle on. The disgust she felt towards all social niceties such as making conversation told her that the good captain's assessment of her person was quite probably true. Her hands itched to take the helm. She wanted to feel the comfort of metal hanging at her waist and to feel the burn of rigging rope slip over her callused hands. It took everything in her to not correct the crew as they went about their work. Ana was no mere maiden… and that, sadly, was the only sure thing she could be certain of. That, and the fact that her situation came at the hands of someone she was not sure of. Someone had given her the injuries she carried. Someone had hurt her badly… so badly that she couldn't ascertain her own name. It was something that didn't sit well with her as she sat on this ship of strangers. She wished she had a person to call a friend… or a task to take her mind off the helplessness of the damnable situation. It was that wistful look that Damien contemplated for a moment before he came to an acceptable solution… one that he'd been pondering for the past few days. He cleared his throat slightly as he shifted in his chair.
"I have a proposition for you, lass," he said, catching Ana's attention. She didn't look up, but she inclined her head enough to tell him that she was listening.
"I'd like you to stay aboard the Zephyr and become a member of my crew," he said. At this, Ana's head shot up, a look of hopefulness in her eyes as her fingers clenched the dining cloth she held in her hands.
"Do… do ye mean it?" she asked, her voice almost raspy in its anticipation. Damien put a palm over his heart and bowed his head.
"It would be my honor," he said. "Besides… an honorable group such as us, for a clear conscience, couldn't possibly leave a lovely young woman in a situation such as yours all by herself in a world she doesn't recognize, now could we?" Ana shook her head as she furrowed her brow to keep the extra emotion that followed her gratitude at bay. Damien smiled as he held out for her.
"Are we agreed then? You will stay aboard?" he asked. She gingerly took his hand, but after a second, she gave it a hearty shake.
"Aye… we have an accord," she said. Damien stood up.
"Excellent… I'll go inform the quartermaster of our new acquisition. Give me a moment," he said as he excused himself from the cabin. Ana watched the door close behind him with unseeing eyes as words rang through her head. We have an accord… accord… accord… The smooth timbered male voice in her head struck Ana like a ton of bricks. The words… not hers. The voice… whose was it? She'd used the words herself, but they were locked deep in her memory with only a slight taste of familiarity. There was a life out there that was hers, but she couldn't claim and it frustrated her to no end. Ana threw the cloth in her hand as far as she could with an angry growl as she stood up. And then, she paced.
Just outside…
"What say the girl?" Jonesy asked as the two men stood a few feet from the captain's cabin.
"She's agreed to join the crew," Damien answered the stocky man. Jonesy nodded.
"It'll make me job easier," he commented. Damien smiled as he turned to look out at the impossibly blue ocean.
"Yes, Jonesy, I believe it will. This is only step one and we've more to take. But this step is a giant one," the captain told his crewmate. Suddenly, there was a giant crash from inside the cabin causing both men to rush inside. Everything that had once been on the table was now not. The girl sat on her knees on the floor, her face in her hands and her shoulders shaking in silent sobs. Damien rushed to her side, carefully avoiding the broken dinnerware and the spattering of food.
"Marie," he said softly while taking her shoulders in his hands. At his voice, she shrugged out of his grip. He reached for her again, quickly taking the arm that was forming a fist and holding it.
"That's not my name!" she all but screamed. "Leave me alone!" She tried valiantly to get away from him, but Damien pulled her into an embrace. Her struggle was to no avail, and she soon gave up, resting her forehead dejectedly against the captain's shoulder. Damien's eyes met Jonesy's from over the girl's dark head. With a nod and a slight smirk, the cook took himself off, closing the door quietly behind him.
Rum
Cay, Bahamas…Will Turner walked around the docks with a slightly befuddled look on his face. Jack was nowhere to be found on the sparse spit of land that the pirate captain had made out to be a bustling port of activity. It was anything but. Yet the fact that the young blacksmith hadn't seen hide nor hair of the man didn't mean much. Jack had a way of evading anything and everything when he wanted. Suddenly, a hand clapped onto Will's shoulder causing the young man to almost yelp in surprise. Or when he didn't want…
"Where ye be headin' young lad?" an obviously disguised, gravelly sounding voice asked from behind him. With a shake of his head, Will glared over his shoulder at the man.
"You'll give a man an attack if you keep that up, Jack," he told the pirate. Will eyed the large feathered hat atop Jack's head and the heavily brocaded coat he wore curiously. "What's with all the trappings?" Jack's eyes went up as if he just became aware of the flouncy hat. He swiped it off his head with a grin and slapped it against Will's chest, the feather blowing annoyingly into the blacksmith's face.
"I believe that's more to your liking, mate…" Jack said with a grin as he peeled the heavy jacket off and let it flop to the ground. "As for the trappings, as it were… let's just say I know a lad…" Will rolled his eyes.
"You always know a lad, Jack. Where did you disappear off to in that crazy getup?" he asked. Jack wrapped an arm companionably around Will's shoulder as they walked to where the Pearl was docked.
"Did I ever tell you 'bout the time I impersonated a cleric of the Church of England?" Jack asked, his mischievous grin still on his face. Will looked at the pirate out of the corner of his eye. He remembered hearing it read at the pirate's abandoned hanging…
"No, actually. You didn't," Will commented, interested in hearing the tale. Jack just chuckled.
"Wicked tale, that. Tell ye all 'bout it when we have more time… but I will tell you, I did frighten me a number of parishners something goofy," he laughed again, wiggling his fingers in front of Will's face to emphasize his point. The pirate gave himself a moment, staring off into the fair blue sky in memory before snapping back to attention and then leaving the young man behind on the docks as he boarded the Pearl. Will, caught in his awe of the pirate, scrambled after him to where he stood at the helm next to his quartermaster.
"Who did you see on the island?" Will asked. Jack grinned at Gibbs with a wink.
"I saw me a lad named Lefty," he said. Gibbs thought for a second before he let out a chuckle.
"Lefty?" Will asked, aware that he'd probably opened a whole 'nother barrel of craziness where Jack and his tales were concerned. Jack nodded once as he leaned on the wheel.
"Aye, Lefty… The lad had the misfortune of being washed overboard during a nasty gale a few years back. He was but a few miles off shore… yet the poor cut up lad was bleedin' out enough to call the oldest, slowest shark with the worst sense of smell to him from half-way cross the world. Before he knew it, a pair of 'em had taken off with his right leg and his right arm…" Jack relayed, using his hands to indicate right above his knee and right below his shoulder.
"Aye," Gibbs agreed, getting into the story. "The laddie were lucky enough – if ye see it so – to float himself ashore and into the care of a couple o' fishermen… he be Lefty ever since…" Will looked at the two with a confused frown.
"That doesn't enlighten as to why you happened to be dressed like such a clown," he commented, causing Jack to smirk.
"We're not done with the story, mate. Hadn't gotten the chance to tell you that the encounter with the Reaper had left the ol' boy a bit loony, savvy?" Jack asked, making a crazy motion with his hand. Gibbs just smirked with a good-natured roll of his eyes.
"That he be… he holds court in a shanty near a mile north o' the port," the quartermaster finished.
"'Holds court'?" Will asked. Jack let out a little laugh.
"Aye… believes he's the bleedin' King o' England, he does," Gibbs explained.
"Crown an' all… and those that request an audience with so fine a man must play their part… there being your favorite hat…" Jack finished with a slight bow. Will gave the pirate a look before looking out at the deck as he mumbled incoherent things about sea turtles and human back hair.
"Did he have any useful information?" he asked after a moment or two. Jack was silent, causing Will to look back at him. The captain's eyes were focused intently on the main mast. All joking and jesting were gone when he looked at the two men in front of him.
"No," he said softly. "All he knows is that there was no ship such as the Zephyr to drop anchor at this port or in any of the surrounding waters. Nor where there any notable female… companions… of any sort." Will gave Jack a cautious look.
"Is such information from a loon reliable?" he asked. Jack looked over at Will with a disappointed look.
"Don't impugn without just cause, me boy. Just 'cause he's a bit mad doesn't mean that he doesn't know things. He knows this island better'n the back of his one hand… and seeing that it's his only hand, he knows it quite well. Lefty knows the ins and outs of this port like no one else could. His word, I'll be trusting," Jack said. There was a cry from the lookout, calling all three men's attention to him.
"Royal sails ho!" the man cried. Jack turned, snatched the spyglass from Gibbs and held it to his eye. And there it was. The Intrepid. With a sigh, Jack watched it sail closer.
"There be our dear friend, the Commodore… what would he be sailing after us for? In his prize ship, no less?" Jack asked. Gibbs let out an audible gulp.
"Do ye think he's after the price on our heads?" he asked. Jack brought the spyglass down with a gold-tipped grin after he spotted an object on the Intrepid's deck.
"I doubt that very much, mate, seein' he's had our heads at a few opportune moments already. But I do believe young William will know the purpose of the good Commodore's visit," Jack said, handing the spyglass to the young man. This time, it was Will who let out an audible gulp. He, too, believed he knew the Commodore's reason. After taking a deep breath, Will brought the spyglass up to his eye as well. After a moment of searching, the glass focused at the fore of the ship. There, with her hair and dress billowing in the wind and her hands planted firmly on her slim hips, stood Elizabeth. And she did not look happy. Jack grinned as he gave his friend a hearty thump on the back.
"The executioner's drums are playing a tune for you this time, boy," the pirate said good-naturedly, causing Gibbs to chuckle. "This should be verrrrry interesting…"
Author's thanks:
I appreciate all the reviews of the last post. I do hope you enjoyed this part… I certainly had a time of it writing it. I had a few laughs of me own… Please let me know what you thought!!