Hey, I'm sorry if this took a little while to post! I had a lot going on, and I still do, but after this week, I should be posting more regularly. Just been a bit swamped with school right now. Oi!
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"They threw themselves overboard? Well, at least you got a ship, right?" a whore by the name of Katrina purred with mock surprise as she hung onto Jack's arm. He took another swig of his drink and sighed deeply. She stroked back his hair and fiddled with one of his strands of beads. Jack looked into her big, dark brown eyes and gave her a lopsided smile, but it faded fast.
"Jumped," he repeated. "Aye, they di'. Don' knows why." She sat up, her mouth in a little oh.
"Well, that's strange," she responded. She glanced around nervously suddenly and leaned it towards him. "What's the name of the ship again?" He reached over a put an arm around her, and she delicately purred in response.
"Fleetin'...Fleetin'...Dream, that's it," Jack slurred. "Like Will." His drunken expression faded to one that was almost sober. Somewhere in the recesses of his intoxicated mind he thought of Will and found himself almost disgusted that he had this whore in his arms when it should be Will beside him, drinking, laughing, loving, not this mysterious woman named Katrina. Still, Katrina was running her finger up and down his arm that made those thoughts leave him. He finished off his pint of rum and slammed it down on the table. He tipped to one side and rolled to the floor.
"Will?" she asked in a soft and enticing voice. "He one of your crewmates, captain?" Jack felt a twinge of offense at that remark. A crewmate? Oh, so much more, you twisted whore. But she had her chin resting on her shoulder, looking straight into his eyes at batting her eyelashes.
"Love of mine," Jack replied slowly. "Good lad, bit o' a stick, but goo' all the same. Always caring, never really wanted to leave my side. Shouldn't have, you know." Katrina thought for a moment and contemplated calling for another drink for him. He still had no intention of actually taking advantage of her services, instead claiming he needed a few drinks. Obviously, it was still not enough; it was never a good sign when the clientele had their lover in mind. It wasn't uncommon, just never good for business.
"What happened to him?" Katrina asked, hoping it would get him off the subject, assuming that in fact Will was gone from him now, whoever Will was.
"'E..." Jack stopped, "'e fell overboard. Never could save him. No' even th' crew of Fleetin' Dream could tell me anything! Killed 'emselves first when I brought up the subject!" Katrina felt a smirk crossing her face, but she subdued, instead reaching over Jack and grabbing a bottle of rum from the nearest passerby's hand. He looked over to Katrina, grinned at her, and sauntered away, later falling to the floor in a dead faint. Katrina handed the bottle to Jack, and he ran a hand along her cheek a little shakily.
"A'tually," Jack began again, "think e's still alive." Katrina sighed and gently tilted the rum bottle towards his face. He took a long swig of it. "But I don' know. Five years...long time...but they died when I brought him up...means...e's wherever they were, innit he?" Katrina sighed and gently stroked back his hair, tucking some behind his ear.
"Don't bother with it. There's other things to do now than contemplate your lover. Come on." She got up, holding out her little hand. He looked at her as she stood there in all of her stunning beauty, or at least stunning to him at this point in time. His sober mind would have said it was nothing truly. She didn't have dark amber eyes and shoulder length brown hair, usually pulled back, though sometimes it was windblown and free, or a sharp mouth set to a frown, soft skin, tasteful lips, a strong muscled body. She also wasn't a he.
Still, he grinned, and followed her out of the tavern to the nearest room, wherever that might be for this night.
***
Katrina stared at the unconscious form beside her. He had made it to the bed before collapsing in a faint. Pity. She smirked to herself and quickly raided the man's pockets of any money he might have, or anything that would be worth selling. It wasn't much, being he had already spent most of what he had carried in with him. She winked at him and blew him a kiss, sneaking out the room and down to the streets of Tortuga.
Outside, the crowds were dispersing, for the first hints of sunlight peeked out from the clouds. Of course, now it was not that people did not stroll through the streets but instead leaned on buildings in sleep or drunken stupor. Katrina stepped delicately over a body sprawled in front of the doorway and ran across the muddy street towards a shack of a place. She glanced around outside of it before knocking three times on the door. She heard hasty movement and throwing on of clothing while a male voice called out.
"Be there...momentarily!" Katrina crossed her arms and impatiently tapped her foot. Around her, dawn was approaching fast, and did not feel inclined to stay out the day here once more.
Finally, a man poked his head out of the door. Upon seeing her, he smiled a warm smile and threw open the rotting door. It creaked dangerously on its hinges and threatened to snap, but he stopped it with his foot and gently whispered a few words.
"Katrina!" he welcomed her warmly. "So good to see you. I did think you had left by now for Miana. I know you don't take kindly to this city..." Katrina strode inside and cut him short. She looked around the small room and settled on sitting on one of the less molded couches. The cushion sagged beneath her, and she settled on the edge of it as best she could. The man sat down next to him.
"Why, you are in a sour mood, aren't you? What does bring you here at this hour? Well, would you like something to drink? Fine rum, if you desire it, or maybe something better..." He clapped his hands, and two women poked their heads into the room hesitantly. When he beckoned them in, they entered, bearing a tray with two glasses on it. One was empty. The man took the full one and sipped it. He smiled and motioned for the two women to sit beside him. They did, and he wrapped an arm around both.
"Tell me James, how many were there earlier?" Katrina asked in disgust as she studied the women's upturned faces. They looked a little pale. James rose and crossed to her, sitting on the cushion beside her and extending a hand towards her. A glare from her though stopped the hand in mid-air, and it fell to the cushion, sending up a cloud of dust. He glanced at the two women, who bowed to him and left the room.
"Five," he said. "But none are as fair as you, my—"
"No kind words you can speak will ever change me, James," she warned him, "and I would not advise sweet talking to me." James shut his mouth, and Katrina leaned back in the chair, now more comfortable since the whores were gone. She put her hands behind her head.
"That is not very becoming," James scolded. Katrina glowered at him and let out an exasperated sigh.
"Oh, let's get to it. I don't have much time, you see. The Fleeting Dream's gone." This startled James. He looked at her and almost rose to his feet, but Katrina held out her pale hand to stop him. "Yes, James, gone. A man informed me of this, oh, I think is name was...Jack...something...Sparrow, yes, that's it, a pirate, you know. He attacked the ship."
"But how'd he get it? You know just as well as I that the..."
"He asked." James stopped and nodded very slowly. Katrina raised her eyebrows in agreement, and in one fluid movement moved to the grungy window. She rubbed a bit of the dirt off and peeked outside at the city. Around it, twilight faded slowly, and she felt the coming of the sun like a tingling beneath her skin. She shivered and rubbed her arms.
"The sun's coming," she said. "I need to deliver a message, preferably before sunrise. It must get to Miana. I don't care how it gets there!" Katrina shouted. James looked away from her glowing eyes and coughed nervously.
"You know just as well as I that they will kill me if I set..."
"Then give them word that I have granted you messenger status and allowed you passage into the city!" she whispered harshly. "I don't care even if you don't get it there! Just get the message to Miana. Tell the nearest elder you find that "swifter than the sparrow flies the day is quickly approaching. Rumor grows, sunlight flows, and night pushes itself away. Flow through the rivers and down to the seas to keep the mist abroad." James cocked his head and made his way over to Katrina.
"I shall deliver your message, my sweet, even if I myself do not understand it," he said, leaning down and kissing her cheek. She growled a low growl and he took a step back, hands raised.
"You should not comprehend it," she said shortly. "Now, be off. I don't want to see any more of you until your task is done." She crossed her arms and glared at him, but he did not move, a sneer on his face.
"And if I do happen to return..." Katrina gave him a warning stare.
"I only play the part of a whore."
"Of course, which is why you should find no offense in my one request." But, when she uncrossed her arms and casually leaned on the wall, James felt a strong urge to drop the subject. Instead, he crossed to the door. He looked back once, smiled at her, and left, running through the streets of Tortuga. Katrina watched him go before closing her eyes wearily and disappearing into the night.
***
Jack lounged in the chair and put his feet up on the desk. The young man on the other side wrinkled his nose, but to him, Jack appeared a rich man, and he loved rich men. Even with his ragged appearance, he had the look in his eyes that promised he had pockets full of gold. He lifted up a hand and examined his nails briefly before folding his legs back up and leaning forward.
"You willing to do a good favor for me?" Jack asked. The man looked at him skeptically, and gave a short cough at the onslaught of breath heavily tinted with rum and other undistinguished substances. He pulled out some papers.
"What favor would this be, sir?" he responded politely. Jack studied him. He was young, clean-shaven, a wonderful gentleman in the making. He sat in a quaint study. Books lined the walls, and the man had a sturdy and beautiful desk. Every surface was clean and dusted.
"You are young, owning a large enterprise like you have. Lots of ships, I suppose," Jack hinted. He grinned and glanced at the room. "Good seamen, your crews?" The man's brow furrowed, a soft brow, smooth, no doubt. He almost reminded Jack of Will, other than the fact that the face was rounded, his cheeks larger, and his blue eyes dark and senseless.
"Yes, I do in fact," he said. "They are all merchant vessels though. This is just a sugar plantation, you understand..."
"Yes, yes, of course," Jack cut in. "But I'm not interested in your produce. Listen, I need a ship." The man tried to keep a straight face, but it twitched at the side, and he gave a short little nervous laugh.
"Sir, did I hear you right?" he questioned. Jack's smile faded, and he reached down to a pouch at his side. It was located quite near to where his pistol was, and the laugh left the man as Jack's hand neared the inlayed handle. But, instead, with a smirk, he pulled out the pouch. It jingled as he raised it up and set it down on the desk. The man's hand twitched.
"Let's say there's more where that came from," Jack whispered, leaning in close to the man. "Lad, you're no fool. You know promise when you see it." Jack picked up the pouch as the man reached for it. "If you give me one of your ships and their crew..."
"Now, wait," he said. "I won't sell over my crew to you, not one of ships either. What would they do? Would they consent?"
"Do your slaves consent?" The man opened his mouth once, giving out a little sound, before shutting it. Jack nodded and smiled approvingly. "Now, where were we? No, you don't see. I would merely...lease out the ship, per say. They would have all their crew, their captain, everything, but you see, I am short a ship. There's an island, also. I need a ship and a crew, the best you can give, to sail to the island. As an exploration mission." The man thought, but Jack leaned even closer. The young man blushed and tried to look the other way. Jack gave a little nod with his head. Like that, are you? He was inches away, standing now to get across the space of the desk.
"Why wouldn't you sail into the island yourself...?" Jack put on his best face, the face he used whenever he needed something from Will, but added a stinger on it, something sharper in his eyes that told the man if he refused, there would be dire consequences.
"Son, I only need your ship for this. I have a small ship myself, not much at all, if you must know. I've tried sailing there, but I can't maneuver it." The man's eyes met Jack's, and he softened his gaze. He burned and twisted inside and this betrayal, but he shoved those emotions down. Not now, no, he had to. Bile filled his mouth, but he gulped that down. The man blushed even more as Jack gave one of his persuasive smiles, showing his teeth.
"I can think about it..." Jack stood up now, sending his chair flying back. The man started and leaned back.
"That won't do," Jack said quietly and slowly. "This request has two answers. Not a maybe. Not a let's think about this. A yes or a no, it isn't that hard. Savvy?" The man's heart skipped a beat as Jack reached for the pistol.
"Please, sir, who are you? Why can't you get someone else to do this for you?" Jack put on a hurt expression and fakly tried to smother it. He leaned close and took both of the man's hands. He gulped nervously and turned his head, but something about Jack's face made him turn around again. Jack looked almost hurt, and the man wished he would just stop that. Having a pistol at his head would be easier than this. His stomach lurched and spun around as he stared at the dark eyes.
"All I need is a ship," he almost begged. "What ships do you have here for me to have now?"
"There...there are three ships in the port," the man responded. Jack smiled and released his hands. There was a sagging in the man's shoulders. Jack stretched out his body and grinned.
"Good to hear. Tell me, what's your name? I don't think I ever caught it?"
"Thomas...Thomas Jones," he responded. Jack stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"Well, Thomas, then let me restate our agreement. I need one ship. It shall go an exploration to an island. After that is done, I shall give you the ship back. Do we have an accord?" Thomas glanced at the hand, then down at his paper.
"Should we not make a formal agreement to this?" he asked. Jack sighed and rolled his eyes, emphatically waving his hand.
"Just agree with me. I am a man of my word! Come on. I will give you the ship back." Thomas looked at Jack who smiled hopefully, then to the pouch of money at his belt, then to the pistol, then to the hand. Thoughts rolled through his head, but his arm was already moving. Their hands met, and Jack shook his vigorously.
"You're a good man," he said happily. Thomas walked with him to the door of the study as Jack sauntered away. "I do hope we can talk again; spend some more time together, maybe, not just talking about these business affairs." Jack's mind screamed at him as he spoke the words. Thomas smiled though, and Jack's head groaned at that smile, forcing images of Will to the front of the pirate's eyes. He banished them.
"Yes, we should talk, when you return the ship," he said. "I can have it to you by the morning, once I talk to the crew. They should be more than happy to sail other routes, not the normal trade patters they sail."
"I understand that," Jack said. Thomas nodded.
"Oh, a seaman yourself?" He opened the door to the study and led Jack out to the hall. They walked down a flight of stairs while talking.
"Yes, in fact I am. A captain, you know," he added with pride. Thomas opened his mouth in understanding. Of course, it dawned on him where this conversation could go. He quickened his pace as they made their way down the splendid entrance hall to the mansion.
"What do you do?" the man asked. Jack shrugged his shoulders.
"Oh, quite a lot...here and there, you know," he responded. As the man opened his mouth, Jack raised a hand. "Well, I wish we could talk, but I really must be going now." He glanced outside at the setting sun. "You're a good man, Thomas," he said. He made a half-bow, half salute with his hand, giving a little flourish at the end, and making his way to the door in the straightest line he could muster. He paused in the doorway and grinned back. "I shall have my ship by morning." With that, he disappeared outside into the fading light, leaving a bewildered and confused Thomas Jones behind.
Jack wasn't confused. No, Jack was quite clear on what he thought, and at the present moment, he was kicking himself for all of his tricks he used on the lad. He did those to Will, not to this other man. Oh, what had he done? Having a night with a whore was one thing. They were...well...different. He had treated Thomas like there was actual interest in him. What a fool he was for doing that!
Not that he would likely see Thomas again. Not only did Jack not know the name of the port where he docked to find this plantation, but also he had a strange feeling that there would not be much of a ship to return. He would get more crew out of it, if the men could survive long enough to get back to the Pearl.
It was a simple plan. He would take this ship to the island and get them to sail through the fog, for all accounts of said island mentioned the fog surrounding it. It would sail in, and try to find a way through. If it did, it would show Jack. If it did not, well, he could only hope that the crew would make it back to the Pearl, right outside of the fog. He would get the crew to tell him everything they could, then either a) take them to the nearest port or b) make them go on the account.
Jack stopped in front of "his" horse, tethered outside of the mansion. The beast regarded him with fascination only akin to that of a sadist. It tossed up its large head, and dirt freed itself from its mane. It snorted at him and pawed the ground with its stubby legs. Jack put out his hand nervously; he had never been one with animals.
"Easy now," he said, gently taking the reins and throwing them over the horse's head. It regarded him with a look even more menacing than Anamaria's glare, and he gave a short laugh. "Truce, alright?" he pleaded, grabbing hold of the saddle. The horse lurched and threatened to take a step forward. Jack started. The horse turned back to him with a triumphant smirk on his face. Jack tried his best to return the stare, but he felt awkward glaring at a horse, which was better at it than him.
Instead, he hoisted himself into the saddle. The horse whinnied at the sudden weight and jumped away, Jack frantically grabbing of its mane to remain balanced. The horse cantered off down the road, and Jack grabbed for the reins to steer it out of the way of any oncoming people or other obstacles. He slipped steadily over to one side and let out a yelp as he righted himself. The horse started then, veering sharply to the right. Jack shouted and tried his best to pull it away. There came a sudden shift beneath Jack, and he felt himself lose his grip as the horse bucked. With a crash he landed in a bush.
There was a reason Jack never liked horses.
***
The port buzzed with morning activity. Men bustled about, hauling crates to boats that would then lead them to the ships docked out from the harbor. The sun shone down bright on the cerulean water and fell on the wooden planks of the docks. In the bay were many ships; the port was a profitable one, quite large, on one of the richer islands. Of course, those had no intention of leaving on this day. There was one though that men hurried towards, loading up boats of supplies. She was a beautiful ship call Fortune, sleek, a good vessel, a merchant ship of the highest quality. On her deck, the men made ready to embark.
Beside her though was another ship that far dwarfed it for size. Large, not as well groomed, but sturdy in her own right. She was built for speed though, even with her large size. Of course, upon her deck the men worked just as tirelessly, though they moved slightly slower and were not so coordinated. But they could be excused. It was not every nigh the crew of the Black Pearl was able to sample the finer sides of alcoholic beverages in such a nice town as the one they stopped in.
Jack, though, for once in his life, was quite sober and almost fretting as he paced in his cabin. Energy threatened to explode inside him. He had just completed a meeting with the captain of the merchant ship, a nice fellow by the name of Larun Hadderman. Strange name, Jack mused. But what was he to say?
Still, he was that much closer, that much nearer to Will. Only a week now until he could find out for sure if Will was alive or...well...somewhere else. Dead wasn't a fitting word for Will. Jack glanced out the small window of his cabin at the sea and sighed deeply.
"Luv, I'm coming here soon," he whispered.
"Cap'n?" a voice asked from outside the cabin. Jack started and glanced up. "The Fortune's ready." He rummaged around the cluttered desk in front of him and found the small stone of Will's.
"Get me luck," he muttered, tucking it in his coat pocket before stepping out on the deck. Around him, the crew waited for his command. He grinned, barked a few orders, and made his way to the wheel. It was time. He had found the Fleeting Dream, lost the crew and any information. So, if he could not force the knowledge, he would find it for himself, by whatever means necessary. His crew had miraculously consented. And, he promised them, if did not give any more leads, then they would leave Will behind.
His heart stung at the thought, but Jack shook his head to clear it. There would be no hope if this was a dead end, that was for sure. Once and for all, he would have the truth.
"Just wait for me Will. I am on my way," Jack vowed.
And wait Will would.
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Hope you liked that chapter! Please review! ^_^