And sorry for confusing anyone with the timeframe of the story. It actually takes place about two years after CotBP. Yes, that means i tweaked the ages a little bit, but please, i think you can forgive me for that, right?
Isn't Johnny Depp just yummy? Bon appetit!
"Oh, come on, just knock on the door, your pathetic little twit!" Maribelle muttered to herself. "Once you at least knock, then you can run away from here with the knowledge that you at least tried."
Maribelle had her fist held up, just about an inch away from the door, and her breath was somehow curdling in her chest. She couldn't breath, and it wasn't just because of the corset she was wearing. On the contrary, she had grown accustomed to the corset after having worn one for so long.
In exasperation, she just knocked quickly on the door, then shot her hands back to her side, looking mortified. She inhaled deeply, and intentionally made herself slouch a bit when she saw the door move.
Jack had changed. Of course, he was obviously taller, but it didn't end there. He was a real pirate, just as he had promised. He had a look about him that could only be caused by years at sea, and countless adventures that Maribelle could only imagine.
"I told Gibbs not to send any visitors," he groaned disdainfully. Maribelle furrowed her eyebrows at him as he started to close the door on her. She put her hand in the doorway.
"No one sent me," she said matter-of-factly.
"Came up all on your own, then?" Jack groaned sarcastically, walking away from the door. "Haven't seen ye around Tortuga before. New to the business, eh?"
"Depends what business you're talking about," Maribelle said distastefully.
"Ye know what, it doesn't matter," Jack snapped. "Try again tomorrow, because today is honestly a very bad day for me."
"Obviously." Maribelle retorted. "What's biting you, Sparrow? Some girl rub you the wrong way?"
"Ye wouldn't understand," he hissed back. "Sorry, love, but all ye whores are the same. Ye want a piece of the famous Jack Sparrow, then ye are content with walking away a few shillings richer the next morning."
"First, you shouldn't assume that every woman on Tortuga is here to cater to every whim of the drunk bastards in the pub," she said, crossing her arms. "Second, why are you acting so funny?"
"If ye must know," he said resentfully, snapping at the strange woman who had just walked into his room. "I've just been thinking."
"It's that difficult for you?" Maribelle said back, shifting her weight and trying to hold back a smile.
"Who the hell are ye anyhow?" Jack snapped in annoyance, reaching for an empty rum bottle on the bed stand. He put it up to his mouth and expected to have a drink, only to find that nothing came out.
"Ah, I knew you wouldn't remember me at all," Maribelle said back, huffing slightly.
But she was wrong. Something about this odd, quite eccentric girl was familiar. Maybe he had slept with her at some point. Something was familiar about her crisp accent, and the way her voice would glide over every word she said.
"Oh, forget it," he said, standing up and walking over to her and grabbing her hand. He pulled her into the room and pulled her face roughly to his, kissing her deeply. Maribelle's eyes went wide as she pushed him away.
"What the hell?" she yelled back.
"Are you crazy?" Jack snapped at her. "What kind of- -" But he was cut off by the sound of this girl laughing hysterically. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Fourteen years of practice, and that's all you've got?" she said back. "I thought you said you'd be better at kissing than I was."
"Maribelle?" he said in slightly more than a whisper. "What the hell are ye doing here?"
"Funny you should mention that," she said, standing with her hands on her hips. "I don't really know the answer to that one myself."
"Ye don't look the same," he stated, crossing his arms. "At all. Is that a corset I see under your dress? You're wearing a corset? The Maribelle I knew would never wear one of those...whore-girdles."
Maribelle's jaw dropped and she looked extremely affronted. "The Jack I knew wouldn't be looking. But of course, you're nothing at all like the Jack I know."
"I want ye to get out," he said. Maribelle looked even more shocked. "Get out of here," he snapped.
"What?" Maribelle said back. "Jack, what are you- -"
"Ye know what ye did." He said simply, not looking at her. "You're nothin' but a lying, money-hording- -"
"All right!" She snapped back. "You know, I think I've been insulted enough." She turned on her heel and stormed back to her own room, feeling angrier than she had in her entire life, but not knowing why.
Jack, on the other hand, picked the empty rum bottle and hurled it across the room, where it shattered against the wall.
Of course he couldn't have said that she was what he had been thinking about, what had given him such a severe headache, that she was the only one who could ebb his interest in having women in bed. Of course she wouldn't remember that this was the anniversary of the day she had practically left him stranded him at that hellhole of an orphanage, which had been just as harsh as being marooned on that island...Of course he couldn't tell her any of that.
Because he was Jack Sparrow...Jack Sparrow didn't actually have any emotional connection to any of his women. They were just there for the occasional romp, and to her him ramble about the glories of his adventures. No one had ever dared to question his far-fetched stories. Not since Maribelle.
Most of all, he was offended that she had become what she had. She had promised to become a pirate and they'd basically terrorize the entire ocean together, and be the scourge of the Seven Seas. She had sworn on pain of death that this would be their future, and she dared become the kind of woman she claimed to hate?
That was why she was a liar. She had given up on everything she had been. She was lying to everyone. She was lying to herself. She had taught Jack everything about being free, only to go off and live in a world where society was her prison. It was just wrong.
Even Maribelle realized this, sitting in her room and looking through her sack of things. She had brought very little, except for a set of her father's old clothes, and the old trinkets she had once been so proud to wear in her hair.
The Callums had insisted that she remove them the minute they arrived in Port Royal. The adventure they had promised her really didn't exist. She lived in a world of etiquette and discipline. For young girls, there was no such thing as the north wind, or the fresh sea air. She had forgotten.
Suddenly, there was the sound of crashing downstairs. Maribelle ran to her window and peered out, making sure not to be seen.
She saw a gaggle of soldiers from the Royal Navy flooding into the pub, lead by a voice that she would have given her life never to hear again.
"We are here to make an arrest," said Commodore Norrington, quite regally. "A reward to anyone who gives us Jack Sparrow."
Maribelle yelped loudly, then clapped her hand over her mouth. She heard people running up the stairs, and knew that Jack, in his current state, wouldn't be quick enough to get away. She stood up and ran to the door, only to be met by Norrington.
"Your parent have been searching frantically for you," he said, "Obviously, I'm obliged to bring you back to your home as well."
"Over my dead body," Maribelle snapped. "I'm never going back there, not even if you- -" she was cut off as Norrington gestured for one of his guards. The last thing she felt was the collision of something hard against the back of her head, and everything went black before she felt herself hit the floor.
Maribelle came back to her senses, only to find herself in a familiar bedroom, lined with lace and satin. She looked around and groaned. She was back in Port Royal.
"Good to see you're well," said Norrington, who was standing in her doorway. "Mr. And Mrs. Callum, and the governor are still out looking for you. We'll send word to them immediately that you've returned."
"Yes, how fortunate," she snapped back, rubbing the sore spot on the back of her head. "I'll be sure to commend you to them for your unnecessary brutality in handling me." Norrington flinched slightly, but the hearty smile never left his face. "Why were you in Tortuga anyhow fancying a tryst with a new girl, eh? I hear Elizabeth hasn't shown any interest in speaking to you since she married Will Turner last year."
"If you must pry," Norrington said through gritted teeth, "I was there looking for Jack Sparrow, the pirate who made an appearance or two here in Port Royal about two years ago." He turned around to leave, having no desire for this girl to ask him any more impertinent questions. "I caught him though, you'll be relieved to hear," he said as he left.
Maribelle gaped, knowing quite well what happened to pirates in Port Royal.
"What the bloody hell am I going to do now?" she muttered.