Blind Fate
Chapter Three
By: Carina
A/N: the line "plays his cards close to his chest" is from POC…Enjoy!
Jack sat in his Captains quarters deep in concentration. His eyes were focused out the window at the rising moon, his booted feet resting upon the table which was covered in various parchments and nautical devices; his shirt was left open to allow the cool night air to caress his warm body. Coming out of his thoughts he swirled the bit of brandy he had left around in his glass and downed it in a smooth swallow.
Rum was his usual drink but he felt the need for brandy tonight. Brandy was a stiff drink that always gave a sound trollop to the system. Jack needed the trollop tonight. He exhaled a long breath as he brought his arms behind his head and leaned back in his chair. He needed to decide what to do with this Anne, and fast.
He was in a pickle, he was. If he'd had Anna Maria on board the situation might have been better, but alas she was out on her own side venture somewhere near Central America. Perhaps he shouldn't have followed the snippet of tale he'd heard about treasure on the shores of Northern Ireland.
Nah.. Jack thought with a smile. The journey had been well worth it. Jack had a knack for coming across great treasure of mythical proportions. He had the craziest ideas that always seemed to pan out for better or worse. This journey had been a bit for the worst but he'd still come out of it with a hoard of jade items.
He'd been in an obscure tavern off the coast of Beijing having finished up some business with the scourges of the Asian sea coast when he overheard a trinket of conversation about a lost China seaman who had been chartered to carry a load of rare jade to the king of England. His ship was blown off course and he was lost at sea, only the remains of his ship and a few personal belongings washing ashore a long stretch of lonely beach in a land called "Ire-Land". So Jack had finagled himself a map of the Chinaman's journey and had managed to talk his widow out of the man's private sea journal that had been returned to her along with a scrap of boat.
He gathered himself a crew of twenty men plus his usuals and had just rounded the African Horn when his crew mates talked him into raiding a merchant vessel just launched from an African port. Jack had been bored with the lack of adventure so he had agreed.
Jack had rules that he made certain were followed without ever having to use brute force to make sure his crew stayed in line. He didn't allow senseless killing when pilfering another ship and he didn't allow rape of women on raids. Jack wasn't out to make people's lives miserable…well not intentionally by brutal attacks. He was out for the adventure of life, the chase of treasure, and the hunt of the mythical.
So the crew had raided and pilfered the ship which turned out to be the British Royal Navy disguised as a merchant ship that was trying to capture pirates. Jack got the best of them with a few casualties and as his crewmates were locking the navymen in the ship's hold one of the sailors fell to his knees and begged Jack to take him aboard. Jack, knowing the hardships sailors suffered under Navy Captains and being short a crew mate, agreed.
Brutus Fleshing was an ogre of a man both in personality and looks. Jack had made extra certain that Gibbs, Cotton, and Tyke kept an eye on him. The first sign that queued Jack on to Fleshing's character was the lecherous glances he cast upon Anna Maria. This was one reason that when Anna Maria mentioned a side trip she wanted to make with a pirate crew off the coast of Africa to Central America that Jack had readily encouraged her. He was used to the crew giving his female appointments looks after having been to sea for many months without the comfort of a woman but none dared to try anything or even cast glances for long. Not with Jack around. Fleshing was different. He would be cunning (or perhaps stupid) enough to try something with Anna Maria and Jack simply didn't have the time or trustworthy man power to keep an eye on her.
Jack hoped he could reach Tortuga before Fleshing became more of a bother. The man was always trying to jolly up to Jack and take Gibbs' place as first mate. Jack trusted no one, even Gibbs, as he was prone to bouts of drunken sleep when he was on watch in the crow's nest. Ever since Barbossa's mutiny Jack played his cards close to his chest. Mutiny had been an awful experience and wasn't one he cared to repeat. He would never admit it but in his sleep dark dreams came in which he was trapped on the familiar godforsaken island watching the Pearl sail away. Only this time….this time it was a barren hostile environment with no cache of rum, with no signs that life having ever walked the hot sands, and with no pistol.
Mutiny was another reason Jack feared…no feared wasn't the right word...it was more like he spent needless energy on, Brutus than he should have. Jack was certain that if there were to be stirrings of a mutiny Brutus would be at the head of the pack. He was just the sort of slimy under bellied turncoat that would do such a thing.
Brutus was also the ruffian who'd started the whole mess in the store room with Anne. Jack knew sooner or later he'd have a situation on his hands with Brutus demanding Anne's usage as a servant amongst the ship, which Jack knew would end badly for the girl. He also knew if he didn't get rid of her a mutiny would be at hand because Brutus could cause trouble by spreading rumors that Jack wanted the girl for himself.
The problem was Jack couldn't get rid of the girl. The red eyes had triggered a memory that danced just out of his grasp. He knew the tingle of the memory though, it was the tingle of adventure, of mystery, of myths. And this is what led Jack to his current state of contemplation with the glass of brandy. He needed to find a way to make this memory surface. Trouble was Jack couldn't remember for the life of him where he would be able to find this particular trinket of information that would jog his brilliant mind. It could be in any of the numerous Captains' logs or sailors' journals he always took when raiding ships. Or it could be trapped in the many fairy tales, ghost stories, or rumors he had read or heard about. No matter what Jack had to keep the girl at all costs; fore great things might come from her usage.
Jack's contemplation was interrupted by an insistent thundering on his door. Swinging to his feet he stepped to the door and pulled it open taking in the sight before him.
"Cooksie…? I know you love food but honestly, there's no need to wear it," Jack quipped.
Before him stood a tall thin reed of a man, straight as a rail, with an eye patch and a carved mahogany peg leg. He was dressed in a dark red velveteen overcoat with dark black slacks and a riding boot. He also appeared to be wearing this evening's stew.
Cooksie used to be a Royal Taste Tester and part time cook before he was cast out onto the streets because a duke choked on a fig. The story made not much sense, but then again the actions of nobles rarely did, but either way Jack hired him to be the Pearl's cook. A fine ship deserved a fine cook; and, Cooksie was a fine cook indeed. Usually one to inhabit the dry British humor Cookisie seemed to be on the brink of blowing his top off; meaning he was especially stiff straight tonight and his normally pursed lips were overly puckered.
"Captain Sparrow, that girl in the brig is like having a bull in a potterman's shop. If you want her to eat I gladly offer you the task of finding a man to give the prisoner daily rations."
And with that Cooksie turned on his peg leg and marched off.
No one other than Cooksie (or perhaps Elizabeth and Will when they visited) would dare speak to Jack like that. Cooksie was of a different cloth though. The same cloth that Cooksie was made of was the one Jack was cut from; the cloth of proper upbringing but of second class citizenship which often went hand in hand with Fate's cruel unfair dealings.
Jack had himself a good chuckle as he set his brandy glass aside and hummed a bit on his way down to the brig. As he approached the prison hold he quieted his steps and ceased his humming wishing to have the element of surprise on his captured bird.
Jack leaned against the doorjamb of the hold and watched the girl as she lay upon the bench. He stayed that way for a few minutes, just observing the creature before him. He was startled when the silence was broken by her impatient sighing.
"Really, if you want to sneak up on a body you shouldn't come a-stomping about like an elephant. Now speak up and reveal yourself!" Anne spoke raising herself to a sitting position.
Jack was a bit annoyed that he hadn't the element of surprise, but he brushed the annoyance off as he applauded his prisoner, taking slow, deliberate steps towards the holding cell.
"Well played, Lass. Very well played," he said.
"If it isn't Captain Sparrow," she spat back like a curse, swiftly getting to her feet and gliding to the front of the cell stopping mere inches from the bars, gazing at the direction of his voice unwaveringly.
He was unnerved by the girl's gaze. For a moment he wondered if she were really blind as those blood red eyes bore into his. A slow smile crept across his lips as he realized her game.
She's a smart one, he thought.
He laughed, patronizing her when he spoke.
"Lass…you can not intimidate me…I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. I am ashamed to say that my crewmen might have found your game threatening," he stepped closer to the cell, leaning his hands on it and bringing his face near to the bars so that he knew she could feel his warm breath, "but I like to fancy myself smarter than them. You can't scare me with your funny, little, devil eyes," he finished with a soft chuckle.
Anne gave him a frustrated cry and struck the bars with her fists, "You're a horrid, horrid, wretched excuse for a human being! I demand you take me back! You let me go!"
Jack waited patiently for Anne to finish her tantrum.
"Lass, I don't take orders well, especially from guests aboard the Pearl," he goaded her with a humorous smirk that was well evident in his tone.
"Guest?!!" she shrieked, "I am no guest! I was taken here against my will! If that doesn't qualify as a prisoner then I'd hate to see what your prisoners have to endure!"
Again he chuckled. The girl really was quite amusing. He reached through the bars and tapped her nose with his finger, "We don't take live prisoners, Lass."
Anne recoiled at his touch as if she'd been bitten by a viper.
"Get away from me you treacherous snake! I refuse to be in the presence of you or your vile crew!" she shrieked.
"And who are you to be demanding me about.? Are you a queen? A princess perhaps? Or mayhap a whore?" Jack asked cheekily, "Tell me Lass, what is your powerful name that should make me bend to your will?"
Anne let out a huff as she snapped, "Anne Catherine Bonnie!"
A small silence followed before Jack grinned and said cheekily, "Why thank you Lass. That shall be all. My crew and I shall leave you to your own accord."
Chuckling he turned and walked out, leaving a raging Anne shrieking in the hold.
A/N: I hope you liked it! I shall try to get another one out soon.
