Author's Note: Well, I'd just quickly like to thank my reviewers: Maya Bebop, Rose, Padme, Tink, Jopie, Tk, and everyone else. My, oh, my, methinks my twentieth reviewer will roll along here pretty quickly...who shall it be?
In Case You've Forgotton...: The twentieth reviewer shall recieve a role in the final two chapters of this story, which are presently being very roughly planned out.
Disclaimer: I own everyone! Ahaha, just kidding. No, if I did own anything, the world would truly be coming to a tragic end.
THE VIOLINIST
Chapter Four - The Prize
"Locke!"
"Aye, Captain?"
Jack Sparrow tipped his hat back so that it barely was on his head at all, and it was probably due to the filth of his hair that the tri-corner trademark stayed on. He darkly eyed the shipmate who was standing before his desk.
The desk was something Jack had acquired in the Caribbean. He knew that, and he took pleasure in the thing. It was a dark wood, polished and beautiful despite its pirating surroundings. Jack leaned backwards in his chair as his dark eyes scanned the man.
Lockewas not much of a pirate. He was a tubby lard of a man, with bushy eyebrows and spectacles he claimed could help him see, but the other men of the crew highly doubted it. He had come to the Pearl in search of a way to flee his past. For you see, Locke, like most men, had been in love once.
His interest was beautiful, but she was also quite vain. She had scoffed at him, for he was in such a lower class and such a beast to a beauty like herself.Locke had fled from the cruel reality of it all and had, unfortunately, stumbled across Captain Jack Sparrow.
That event would plague him for the rest of his days.
The Captain ran his tongue over his front teeth and sensed it was time to find something with which to brush them. "Locke, what have you got?"
It was early morning, and they were already far departed from the port of the isle. They were headed towards their last island of the month, a bit northeast.
Jack had made a habit of taking inventory after each raid to make sure none of the crew hoarded things of value. Not that he needed to worry--the crewmen were so terrified of the consequences, their mannerisms had grown so timid that they wouldn't dare keep anything to themselves.
"Have a look here, Captain,"Locke said, allowing a smile to creep across his chubby face.
Jack nodded and the fat man waddled forward, dumping a sack onto Jack's desk. Out spilled several pots, some gold, and crimson fabrics. Jack rubbed the gold in between his fingers asLocke grinned, positively delighted with himself.
"How do you think, Captain?"Locke asked excitedly. "Quite valuable, I'd wager."
Jack blinked and dropped the gold, picking up the fabric and running it between his fingers. "What is this?" Jack asked in complete monotone.
"Silk, sir. Quite valuable in the West, I hear."
"From whom do you hear, Locke?" Jack said, glancing up.Locke faltered a bit.
"I…I don't quite follow you, Captain," he said honestly.
Jack cocked his head at him, a frown leaping to his face as he laid his pistol upon the table.Locke steadied himself, already shaking in fear. He scolded himself for being so cowardly. "Don't you, now?" Jack snarled. "Can you sew, Locke?"
The tubby man blinked. "Er…no, Captain."
"And if you cannot sew, can you make a garment?"
"No, Captain."
Jack let his chair fall back into place and he folded his hands under his chin. "Now, Locke," he said slowly. "Considering that factual information, do you think that most pirates can sew?"
Lockesmiled nervously. "Why, no, Captain. I suppose not."
Jack nodded. "Very good, Locke."
It was at this point that Locke made a mistake that nearly cost him his life. Had he been on the ship a bit longer, he would have seen that defying the captain would cause his single thread of sanity to snap.
"Captain, I simply thought--"
"You WHAT?" Jack shouted, pushing out of his chair so quickly it slid back and teetered a bit before toppling over.Locke gasped a little as the captain's cool demeanor began to chance. His face was contorted into rage, and one could forget how lovely a face he really had. Jack gripped his pistol and took a few giant strides forward. "You don't think, Locke!" he yelled. "You're a bloody pirate! It's not your job to think. That's why we have a captain, savvy?"
"Yes, captain, of course!" Locke squealed. "I shan't think again!"
"Jack!"
The captain of the Black Pearl looked up as Baby Fischer came worriedly into the captain's quarters, his face a mask of emotional suffering in pity of the man who stood just a few yards away with a pistol aimed at another man's chest. Baby pushedLocke away and the fat pirate gave him a look of gratitude before waddling off. Jack glared at the younger man.
"That was not your place, Baby Fischer," he snarled. Baby's eyes narrowed.
"You were going to kill a man who has no reason to die," Baby said coolly. "If it is not my place to stop his senseless death, than I don't know what is."
Jack lunged forward and grabbed Baby by the collar, slamming him against the wall of the ship. The entire room seemed to creak as Baby let out a little groan. Jack's breathing was heavy and it actually looked as if there were a fire blazing in his twin brown eyes.
"Don't you ever, EVER talk to me like that, Baby," he hissed, his face so close to the other man's their noses nearly touched. "I'll kill you. I swear to whatever God there may be, I will kill you on the spot if you ever use that tone with me again."
Baby's rage, which had seconds earlier felt like a blazing forest fire, died almost instantly after that. He managed to squirm out of Jack's grip and brushed himself off as he let himself lean against the wall.
"I'm sorry, Jack," he said, his blue eyes seeming to grow a little lighter. "It shan't happen again."
"You had better pray it shan't happen again," Jack warned, walking back to his desk. He bent down and picked up his chair, setting it back steady before collapsing into it. "So, Master Fischer," Jack said, securing his hat back onto his head. "What have you and Venice got for me? You know I expect my best booty from you."
Baby nodded solemnly. "I know, sir," he said quickly. He peered out the door and called out. "Venice! Bring down what we acquired so Jack can see it."
"Right away, Baby," Venice's voice called.
Jack suddenly became rather confused. Now, one would never expect Jack to be rather clever or observant. For he had once acted like a lunatic and now like a madman. But in truth, he really was a rather brilliant man, and very observant. What bothered Jack so is that he head two pairs of footsteps coming down the rickety wooden steps to his quarters, not just the one set of Venice's.
And quickly he saw why.
She was pushed into the room so that she nearly fell to her knees, her head bent low and her scraggly hair a mop over her head. Baby shot Venice a dirty look as the teenager came into the quarters.
"What?" Venice demanded.
"Don't be rude," Baby scolded.
"I didn't mean to shove her, alright?" the teenage pirate said. Baby crossed his arms across his chest and strode over to the girl. He helped her to her feet and turned about to face Venice.
"Apologize to her," Baby insisted. Venice faltered.
"I beg your pardon?" he hissed, obviously feeling self-conscious.
All the while, Jack had been staring at the girl standing in his quarters. He could not see her face, for she refused to look up. His eyes scoured her every curve and he almost smirked. She had quite the figure. His eyes went down to her hands, and he noticed she had a violin grasped in one and a bow in the other.
When Jack snapped back to reality, Venice and Baby were still going at it as Baby kept his hand wrapped around the girl's thin forearm.
"You, heard me, Venice," Baby growled. "You apologize. This is a lady--"
"Stop," Jack said loudly. The two bickering friends looked up and a rosy tint sprinkled across Venice's nose and cheeks.
"Begging your pardon, Captain," he said, rubbing the back of his head.
"Don't beg for anything, Venice," Jack ordered. "It makes you lower than a peasant."
Venice looked down in shame and Baby inwardly sighed. Jack pointed at the girl with a dirty finger. "What is that?" he asked, clearly not amused.
"'Tis a lady, Sir," Baby responded. Jack rolled his dark brown eyes mockingly.
"Yes, I can see it's a lady, Baby Fischer," he said. "What the bloody hell is she doing on my ship, in my living quarters? Surely you weren't stupid enough to capture only one whore?"
Baby shook his head. "No, Captain, not at all," he protested. "She is a violinist. An amazing musician--Venice and I heard her ourselves. Her song…it is…" He paused, searching for the right words.
"Beautiful," Venice sighed from the corner, still looking at his feet. Baby nodded.
"Aye," he agreed. "Beautiful indeed."
At this, the girl's heart seemed to melt a bit. She looked up, her eyes meeting Baby's, and a smile spread across the pirate's face. At his desk, Jack's jaw nearly dropped. That girl…she looked so much like…
"Where did you find this woman?" Jack demanded breathily. The girl's eyes immediately resumed their downcast position. Baby looked over at Venice.
"In a barn, Captain," Venice answered. "She was living in a barn with her father."
"You did not take the man, I trust?" Jack said quietly, subconsciously standing up and taking a few strides forward.
"No, Sir," Baby replied.
Jack caught himself staring at the girl's bent head and shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He had begun to wander off, and when he wandered off, he lost the grip over the crewmen he held. He lifted the girl's chin and she reluctantly looked up.
Her eyes were a deep brown, with flecks of gold. Her skin was considerably tanned, and on her cheekbones the tint was darker. Jack frowned at her and released her chin. The girl still looked up, her eyes burning into his. A deep heat filled his belly, and he recognized it as a dull rage.
"What is your name, my mysterious lady?" Jack asked sweetly, slurring the words a bit--not from the drink, which he had scarcely touched over the past seventeen years, but from mere habit.
The girl blinked and Venice cleared his throat. "Her name is Mariana, Captain," he answered and Jack immediately tore from the girl's burning gaze and took a menacing step towards Venice.
"I do believe she should answer for herself, insolent youth," the pirate captain snarled and Venice looked back down at his shoes in shame.
"Captain," Baby interrupted, despite the fear of the consequences which might come as a result of it. "She truly cannot answer for herself."
Jack glared at the younger man. "Oh, really?" he growled. "And why would that be, Baby?"
"Sir, she's mute."
Jack paused, his words of rebuttal catching in his throat. He blinked and did nothing but stare at the girl's face for what seemed to be an age. And then, Jack Sparrow did something he hadn't done in a very, very long time.
He laughed.
Of course, it wasn't a good-natured laugh--Jack hadn't uttered one of those in more than seventeen years. This was a cruel laugh, a mocking laugh, one that burned the soul in shame.
"Are you boys completely DAFT?" Jack asked between snickers. "You got a mute whore? A mute whore? What on God's green earth would you get a mute whore for?"
"Captain--"
"She can't very well scream your name when you're making love, can she?" Jack laughed loudly. Baby shifted uncomfortably and the girl shot him a dirty look. He glanced at her apologetically and cleared his throat once more.
"She's not a whore, Jack," he said quietly.
Jack immediately stopped laughing and looked at his fellow pirate. "Oh?" he replied. "Than what is she? Hopefully a seamstress so we can make something out of Locke's ridiculous cloth-obsession."
Baby shook his head. "No, Jack, not a seamstress," he answered. "Mariana is a violinist."
Jack blinked. "She's a what?" he repeated.
"A violinist, Jack," Baby answered. "A musician."
Jack paused, eyebrows lifted in consideration. "Don't insult my intelligence, boy," he ordered, his voice somehow lacking its normal harshness. "I know full well what a violinist is."
Baby nodded. "Apologies, Captain. I simply wanted to clarify."
Jack blinked again, unmoving. Any sign of laughter had been washed away from his face in the blink of an eye. "Why the bloody hell did you fetch a musician?" he demanded finally.
"It would calm the men, Captain," Baby argued. "You know as well as I that they live in fear. Perhaps having a source of music on board would comfort them."
Jack twiddled the braids in his beard thoughtfully. "Well…" he pondered, sighing to himself. "I suppose she can't do any harm…" He snapped his fingers at the girl and she started. "Play something for me, my lady," he ordered. "Let us see if my dear young crewmates are telling me the truth."
Mariana shot a look at Baby, who nodded. She stared at him for a very long time before slowly shaking her head 'no.' Baby's face turned white and Venice looked like he were about to be sick.
"Wonderful, she's feisty," he groaned sarcastically as he turned to face the wall.
Jack's face, had it not have been so tan from working in the sun, would have turned a pasty pale color, and then a deep crimson. However, his cheeks only lessened their coloring a little as his eyes flashed with a dull rage. "I gave you an order, missy," he snarled. "It'd be in your best interests to follow it."
Before Baby could interject, Mariana switched her violin into her other hand so one was free and with it slapped the pirate captain across the face.
Now, Jack Sparrow had been slapped many a time before. He was with five women at a time, usually, most of them from Tortuga. And the women in Tortuga, the women who associated with Jack Sparrow, were quite hot-tempered.
But it had been years since he had been slapped. In those years, he may have taken in light-heartedly, making a sly remark about how he may not have deserved that. But now, with his humor gone and only his anger to feed upon, he did not take her slap as a joke. Jack grabbed her wrist and twisted it until she winced and her eyes began to water.
"Captain--" Baby began.
"Don't you DARE say a word," Jack hissed and Baby promptly shut his mouth. Jack locked eyes with Mariana and put his other hand around her slender neck. His thumb rested on her protruding collarbone as his fingers played with the earring that dangled from her ear. "Now, you listen to me, missy," he said icily, his hot breath making her eyes water. "I am the captain of this ship. I can throw you over the rail and doom you to Davy Jones' locker whenever I please. I will kill you if you ever strike me again, be you a lady or not. You have my word on that."
Mariana's eyes glazed over and she jerked away from his grip. Jack turned around so that he was staring out his window. The sun was beginning to set, sending its pink and orange early goodbyes across the horizon and into the room. To most, the sight was beauty. But to Jack Sparrow, it was horrible. It meant the coming of the night, when he was be truly alone.
"Take her to the guest cabin," Jack ordered, still facing out the window. "Get her blankets for her bed. I do believe there are still some of Anamaria's old clothes in that closet."
The words didn't register with Baby at first. He was letting her stay? After she had been so bold as to strike him? He looked down at Mariana in wonderment, but her gazed was fixed on the nothingness that loomed ahead of her.
"Er…Captain--" Baby began, confused by the whole manner. Jack turned about violently.
"Don't you question my orders," he snarled. "You have your demands. Now be off and see that they're fulfilled."
Baby nodded dutifully. "Aye, aye, Captain," he agreed. He nodded at Venice and they clamored down the stairs to the lower decks with Mariana.
The instant the door to the room was shut, Jack collapsed onto the bed, his shoulders jerking violently. "How could it…How could she be…" Jack mumbled incoherently.
She is not the one you are thinking of, his Shadow Man answered in his head.
"How do you know?" Jack whispered, burying his face into his pillow.
I know because I am you, the Shadow Man responded. And so, I knew her. And that little wench is not her.
Jack bolted to his feet. "You're right," he agreed. "Absolutely right. It's not her. There is no way in all the regions of hell that it could be her."
His Shadow Man chuckled inside his mind. That's a good boy, it cooed, and Jack plopped down into his bed as the sun continued to sink in the sky.
"I'm sorry for all that," Baby apologized as he made Mariana's bed. The girl had her back to him, and was staring out the window. The blazing glow filled the room, casting glorious shadows over her face. Baby sighed as he fluffed her pillow for what must have been the fifth time. "He's not always like that, you know," he said.
Mariana looked over her shoulder at him, her eyebrow arced. Baby grimaced.
"Well, he is now," the youth admitted. "But he wasn't always." Mariana looked back out to the sad. "I knew him when I was just a lad," Baby reminisced. "I was an orphan, and Jack took me in. He was like a father to me--taught me how to shoot before I could talk." A warm smile came over his face.
"He lost someone," he said, the smile turning sad. Mariana turned round quietly, suddenly interested. "Someone dear to him. I think he loved her--and I think she loved him, too, though neither of them would ever admit it. She was beautiful, you know." Baby sighed. "She was killed when I was just a boy--just seven or eight years old, I think. Murdered in a fight."
Mariana looked at him, somewhat sorrowfully. Baby looked up at her and she was surprised to see that his eyes were sparkling with tears he refused to shed. "He lost the only love of his life," he continued. "And I suppose if you take that from a man he becomes nothing."
He smiled and rubbed his eyes free of the salty pools that were drowning them. "Mariana," he said and she blinked at him. "I hate to be a bother, but I was wondering if you wouldn't play your violin for me?"
She stared at him in awe. At first, she had taken him to be just another scallywag. He had the look--he was dirty and his back teeth were gold. That single golden hoop earring was a dead giveaway. But now--and she hated to think it--she assumed he might be something much different. Slowly, she nodded and that childish grin sprang to his face.
"Thank you," he said. "Your music is…entrancing."
She blushed a little in reply, noticing for the first time how handsome he was.
"Do you write it?" Baby asked excitedly. "That is, I mean, do you make it up yourself?"
She nodded with a smile. Baby smiled right back, and had she a voice, she might have laughed at a pirate sitting like a little boy grinning the grin of a child. Mariana picked up her bow and violin and settled the instrument against her neck and chin. She took a deep sigh and began to play.
Baby Fischer sat there, his head against the wall, breathing deeply as if he were inhaling the music. With each note his heart rose higher as if it had sprouted wings. The music was beautiful…just like her.
He closed his eyes and sighed as the song reached its end. Mariana put down her violin on the splintered desk that was propped against the wall. Baby lifted his head and got to his feet, walking over to her. He took her hand and brought it to his lips.
"Thank you," he said softly and pecked the top of her hand.
Mariana just stood there, her eyes vacant with confusion.
Baby gave her a smile and sighed. "You are a magnificent creature," he said and strode out of the room.
He pushed his heart back down into his chest as he left, but it didn't want to obey. It wanted to be with the music.
It wanted to be with her.
Closing Notes: The fluff! THE FLUFF! Gah! It was so fluffy, but I felt a certain amount of fluff was needed.
Now, who could Mariana remind Jack of? Hmmm...JEOPARDY!
Review, duckies, like the wonderful people you are.