Chapter XVI - Sparrow
She shook uncontrollably in Cutthroats room. For once she was glad for the noises of work coming from the captain's room, because that meant the man was too busy to come into his own room. Sitting in darkness, hands clenched in her lap, her mind was frozen.
Having no idea what the passage of time was she couldn't judge when exactly there was a knock on the door. It opened slowly, like the person was afraid to enter.
"Rachelle?"
She recognised that voice. It jogged her head into working. Lifting her face up to the meagre shaft of light shining from the corridor, from the few lanterns lit out there, she saw Thomas.
"Why are you here?" she wondered, voice soft, only a slight catch to it.
"Michael said that you were very upset earlier. You even went so far as to throw things." He arched his brow. "That is not very ladylike, and it worried him."
"He . . . he was worried?"
"Well, as worried as a scallywag such as himself could get," he replied with a teasing smile. Rachelle couldn't stop herself and smiled right back, standing up.
"Why are you not coming in?"
"I wouldn't dare go inside . . . Come with me for a walk. Would that be alright?"
She nodded and went to grab a parasol.
"You won't need that," he broke in quickly, "only the moon out now."
"Oh, okay." She padded quietly over to the cabin boy and accepted his arm. He shut the door behind them, then led her to the stairs and helped her up. Once they were on deck, they had a leisurely stroll, walking about in silence because there was no need to talk. Or in Rachelle's case, she couldn't talk, jaw glued shut. Her mind, once again, had closed down. She had no idea what to make of that Cutthroat fellow.
Commodore Norrington held his saucer in his left hand, lifting his bone china cup to his lips. He sipped the fine tea, enjoying it strong, yet mellow taste. It was delicious, it was divine -
There was a lock of hair in his mug. A bird fluttered by him, and perched up in a tree. He looked around the outdoor gathering area, where many other soldiers were enjoying their tea time, then up at the bird in the tree beside him. Glancing back down in his mug, he wrinkled his nose and picked the hair out with obvious distaste. It was braided to keep from falling apart in flight he supposed. It was probably pretty hair, but it was soaked and so he couldn't quite tell.
He noticed a ribbon on it. It was red embroidered with gold. Grabbing it so he could examine it more carefully, his blood ran cold.
"Clairington." He looked up at the bird and saw more red. The sparrow made a few birdcalls then fluttered off.
Clutching the hair and ribbon in his hand, he squeezed them slowly until his hand was a fist, and his knuckles were whiter than the rest of his skin, which was quite a feat.
"Jack Sparrow," he growled. A few men turned in surprise and stared at him.
"Jack Sparrow, my lord?"
"Jack Sparrow!" he screamed, jumping up, dropping his tea and saucer. A maid rushed over and began cleaning it up, another one running off to fetch him a fresh cup. "Jack Sparrow has my fiancée!"
One brave and very stupid soul either had enough guts or not near enough brains to quip, "Again?"
"Oi! Jack!" a crewman shouted across the deck.
"Jacklyn," Michael murmured under his breath, making the men around him chuckle as loudly as they dared. Anamaria glanced up at Michael as she continued working with them, a pleased smirk on her face. She was only too happy that someone could goad the captain on without fear. The group was clearing up excess rope, which sometimes took awhile because it had to be untangled, straightened, dried and wound so it wouldn't knot up.
Jack, not hearing the slight, looked avidly at who had called his name, hands on his hips.
"Yer birdie's back!"
The sparrow, having been gone for a few days, fluttered over to Jack and perched on the wheel, between two of the spokes.
"Didja give ol' Norrington my message?" he asked. The bird cocked his head then gave off a short song. Jack took that as a yes, ignoring Gibb's red face and near apoplexy, just at the side of his vision. The captain's wide, intent eyes flew up when Monkey leapt on the wheel column and swiped at the sparrow.
He snarled and Monkey laughed and jumped onto his shoulder, stealing his hat. Jack snatched it back and put it firmly on his head, lips drawn tightly. It wasn't going to be long before the Commodore came along to fetch what was his.
This had become a dangerous game they were playing. Some of the men had become irritable and wanted to dig into Rachelle. But Michael had stopped them on every occasion. Finally, facing more than half the crew ready to beat him to a pulp, Jack heard the most astounding use of logic. His first mate was good, very good, to keep such a calm, clear head when about to be beaten in near mutiny.
"If we rape her and kill her," he said simply, "what happens when the Commodore comes? We could," he said, swaggering and gesturing much like the captain, having picked up his habits over the past twelve years, "just do the bitch and throw her over."
This got cheers and a few more steps towards him.
"But if we did," he said, bravely stepping up to them, finger raised, looking as though in thought, "then the Commodore would kill every - single - one - of us," he said slowly, pointing to the men with each word, emphasising them.
"'E'll kill us anyway!"
At that Michael rolled his eyes. "Ye bargain, halfwit! The girl is un'armed, and we'll give her to them if they keep a respectable distance and don't touch us. The second anyone makes a move, she gets raped and killed and it's on their conscience." He put his hands on his hips and smiled. "Git it?"
"So if we keep her alive," one pirate said slowly, trying to figure this out, "we 'ave a better change of facin' Norrington?"
"Precisely," the first mate said jauntily, shoving through them and back up to the deck. On the stairs he paused and added, "She is raped or dies, he pulls out 'is whole bleeding fleet. If she's safe, he'll be too happy to get her back to bother wit us."
Michael then hauled himself up on deck and went over to Jack. They looked to each other smirking.
Pirates.
Jack knew that in theory Michael's plan would work. But the Commodore and Jack had . . . a history. And Norrington would do anything to get his hands on the captain of the Black Pearl.
He would go down in history for it, for capturing the incapturable Jack Sparrow - Captain Jack Sparrow. Well, granted, he had been captured a few times, but he always escaped. Surely that countered the Commodore's record, which said man would want rectified. Also, it would be an additional benefit to get the ever-feared Cutthroat. They were both in danger.
"Oi! Jacklyn! Are you sure ye don't wanna check yer pretty birdie fer heatstroke?!"
The captain glowered around the crew, eyes falling on Michael who was trying desperately not to fall in a heap, laughing. It appeared the men around him, and Anamaria, felt the same way. He snarled down at his guffawing crew, looking quite menacing and everyone's faces fell. They went back about their business, except for Michael, who stared back, cool as could be.
A sudden, wicked idea came to Jack's mind right then, and his expression went completely evil.
"No, but if ye don't shut yer trap I'll switch yer pennyroyal with wormwood!"
Anamaria glanced up curiously, her head not moving, as Michael went deep red, looked around and continued to work in silence. After all, the captain was always allowed to put in the last jibe.
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Well, there's another hint-hint nudge-nudge say no more in here, but I doubt many people will find it . . . anyhoo, Mika is now officially MIA because I said so. *Crosses her arms and looks firm. Then starts bawling* I haven't heard from her in awhile and we haven't got together to write! Whhhaaaaa! . . . Okay, pathetic, I know. *Whistles and walks away.* Hope you enjoyed this chappie. Please show your enjoyment by reviewing :D And I just made yummy cookies. Mmm, yummy cookies . . . *Offers cookies to reviewers.*
Sukkumbus and the absent(?) Mika