Chapter four: Rendevous
Elvira slowly picked her way through the ragged streets, leading to the place she knew taverns, drunks, and whores frequented. It was no Tourtuga Town, but it was close enough.
Her dress...no, gown...was slightly torn at the shoulder, and the slippers she had abandoned for bare feet that did not smart on the cobble stones as most women's would, but it was a consolation to be out of those heals. She took out the pins in her red brazen hair, letting it fall to her back in the way it used to back in Tortuga. She was relaxing, coming down off of tenterhooks as she slowly made her way to the bar, the worst looking one.
A fight was taking place outside of the entrance, Elvira looked down in slight bemusement and stepped over the brawling men, and into the dark seclusion of Krakens Hideaway. It made her instantly wish for home, for this was not exactly like the bars there. It was a tad more clean, and a slight better smelling. She sat down at a table, and acquainted herself with her surroundings.
"Was' a pretty lady like you doin' here?" Elvira glanced up to see a dark man standing over her. His greasy wavy hair fell past his shoulders, and if it was just the light, to Elvira it looked like it was dripping grease. His face had a hawk like appearance, and his eyes, steel grey, were piercing and observant. Without her leave, he sat down backwards on the chair opposite her and placed his chin on long fingered hands. He wore all black; breeches, tunic, vest, boots, and traveling cloak. He was lean, and she would bet her life that he was stronger then most.
"Whats it to you?" She instantly replied, though knowing it wasn't one to fool with. He let out a laugh that sounded more like a piece of metal being mauled by wood.
"Nothing, sweeting, just wonderin. You look like you belong up in the Town," Elvira let out a snort, and crossed her legs under the heavy dress.
"Not likely. Well then, stranger, what's your name?" The man chuckled again, and sat up straighter.
"Jerome. And you, lovely?" She was used to those comments. Used to the things men would call her. She didn't care, she was looking for a bit of money, but she knew she couldn't needle this man too much.
"Elvira." No need for last names, there never were.
"Interesting. That still doesn't answer why you are here, in this heap, when you look like a princess." His way of talking, articulate and slurred at the same time. As if you were reading them and the lines were fuzzy, but still clear.
"I don't belong here, in Port Royal. I live in Tourtuga Town. In fact, Im gunna remidy that real quick like. Real quick like indeed." The man named Jerome reached out to touch her torn sleeve, but a hand came down fast on his shoulder. Surprised, Elvira looked up, and let out a gasp.
Obviously, Sparrow didn't recognize her, as his grip tightened on the mans shoulder. He was feeling an odd sort of mixture. He had witnessed this woman slowly saunter into the bar and sit down. She knew what she was doing, but she didn't belong there. Sparrow knew this man, knew him too well for his liking. A brute who beat women and if he was drunk, would go so far as to kill them in blind rage. This woman didn't know what she was getting herself into.
Jerome turned his head and looked at the hand clasped on his shoulder. It was an ugly scene that followed. First, he jumped up, and twisted Sparrow's arm. However, Sparrow easily slipped out of his grip and threw a punch. The men exchanged a few throws, until finally, Sparrow pulled out a pistol, and pointed it straight at the mans forehead.
Jerome threw up his hands, panting slightly, and gave a sneer, his top lip curling as he spat, "Sparrow. Indeed, you are a pirate. Here, take the wench, she's not worth it." He walked out of the bar, his reputation hurt worse then his nose.
Only then, did Sparrow turn to look at Elvira. Registration of who she was dawned on him, and before she could get out of the chair, he grabbed her out of it himself, and hauled her up onto his left shoulder. After saluting jauntily to the barman with his pistol, Sparrow all but strutted out of the run down part of the Town, through Port Royal's many alleyways, and to the docks. Trying hard not to drop his struggling cargo and keep her quite, they finally managed to a rowboat tied to a pier, and after almost tipping over twice and having to grab hold of the woman to keep her from jumping, did they get to his large ship the Black Pearl.
When it was in sight, Elvira's eyes went wide and she was still as she gazed in awe of the vessel before her. It was truly beautiful, and Sparrow took advantage of her silence and heaved her over the railing, she landing none to pleasantly on the hard wood decks. Sparrow easily followed, and after landing on deck as graceful as a cat, he sraightened, up, heaving an agitated Elvira with him.
"Sam?" He called, his voice rough with authority. A large and burly man came out of a group of crew members, his face clearly reading interest.
"Aye..." Sam said slowly, crossing two massive arms over his chest.
"Take Ms. Vira to a locked cabin, savvy? Make sure you deliver the key to only me, and no one else. Its for your safety," He added in an undertone to Elvira who had just hissed in protest. Sam took the woman from Jack's hands and tossed her on his shoulder like a sack of sugar. She screamed out profanities that would make a sailor blush, but set the crew to laughing and jeering.
"Sir?" Jack glanced around and saw Kian, who was smiling slightly.
"What is it?" Jack asked wearily, rubbing his temples.
"Is that the whore?"
"Aye..that be the whore."