So…considering I'm new to this, it' my first fic on this site, (though I've written a bandfic and a couple original stories on Quizilla) I failed to mention that it's a chapter story. But it is. And here is chapter two. Hope you enjoy . And also, read my sister's stories, there are a couple about High School Musical and also the Suite Life of Zack and Cody, one called Chat Room Mystery and I forget the name of the others and I'm too lazy to check. So ya'll can just head on over her way like some little cows and check out those darn good stories like I know yah want to. I probably just turned a bunch of people off from my story. No matter. I'll just stop talking now, and write.
"Jack, is there any civilized place we could dock within a month?" Elizabeth asked him quietly, ignoring his former question. Jack stared at her as though she was insane, tilting his head to the side and cocking an eyebrow. He let go the steering wheel and walked over to where Elizabeth was carefully perched on the low wall at the edge of the deck.
"Here lass. You need this." He handed her his bottle of rum (with about a swallow left) and patted her hand reassuringly. Then the Captain whistled for his first mate and pointed drunkenly to the wheel.
"You want me to jump overboard?" The first mate questioned, scared for his well-being.
"No, no, no, take the bloody wheel mate." Jack slurred, attempting to move his finger to point at the wheel. The crew member (let's call him…John…like a loo…hahaha.) Took the wheel and watched Jack amusedly as he stumbled down the stairs.
"That's not an answer!" Elizabeth said impatiently, tossing the bottle to the side and jumping up to follow Jack.
"Me rum!" He whimpered, running to the side to watch it plunge into the depths of the ocean. Then he turned to Elizabeth, fixing his unfocused eyes on her (more so her chest). "Dove, we're being chased by an entire fleet of naval ships. Now, we could dock in Barbados in a week or so, but the chances of leaving Barbados without chains on us are basically…" he scratched his scraggly beard, "none." He said with a note of finality, dropping his hands and turning around with a swish of his coats and staggering off towards his quarters.
"Oy! Jack!" A young man's voice called down from the crow's nest. Both Elizabeth, still in pursuit of the captain, and Jack Sparrow gazed upward to see Will waving furiously at them both. "Two naval ships! They're gaining on us! One looks like the commodore's!" Elizabeth turned furiously to Jack, who was gazing at his dirty nails and humming 'Pirates Life for Me' to himself.
"Will!" Elizabeth shouted back up to him, "Will! You come down and take over! Jack's a drunken mess!" Jack raised his head at the sound of his name and waved happily up at Will.
Disheartened, Will shook his head with exasperation and began to climb the riggings. A moment later he hopped down and landed right before the two. Taking Elizabeth's hand, Will dashed off to the wheel to give orders, already shouting, "Load the cannons!" Jack nodded and raised a finger in the air.
"Yes! Load the cannons! Hey! You lot! Load them!" He barked at any crew members standing idly.
Will stood anxiously at the helm, nervously handing out orders to crew members. They obeyed instantly, attempting to out-sail the enemy ships, but preparing for battle nonetheless. When at last he had done all he could, he turned to find Elizabeth, who was on deck, trying to help with the sails.
"Elizabeth!" He cried, racing down to her. "Elizabeth, please, arm yourself at the least. And stay low out of the range of fire." He said, eyeing her sadly, knowing any harm that came to her would be his fault. Elizabeth stepped forward and took Will's face in her hands. She peered kindly into his deep brown eyes for a moment before kissing him full on the lips. Protectively, he wrapped his arms tightly around her as the cries rose from the crew that a ship was on the horizon. Elizabeth pulled away momentarily and replaced her hands around his neck. Will lay a palm against the smooth skin of her face before kissing the top of her head and running off to assist the struggling crew, who were calling to him in desperation.
Despite the warnings from her fiancé, Elizabeth darted between the crew, which was running amuck, and ran to the keep where an array of rifles was stashed for just these occasions. She picked up the one that looked most well-kept and stayed far to the port side, where a clear view of the advancing military ships was available. The sails were arched stiffly with the early-morning wind, and the hull cut cleanly through the icy blue ocean. Had the ship not been that of the enemy, Elizabeth thought to herself as she crouched at the edge of the ship, it would have been a rather beautiful sight to behold, what with the sun rising at the stern of the speeding craft.
But there was no time to enjoy the sight, for the navy was within firing range, and well aware of it as they turned sharply, so their ship was aligned with the Black Pearl. Elizabeth, just the top of her head visible over the side of the ship, watched the deck of the other carefully, eyeing each crew member in search for a familiar face. Already, as she searched the opposing crew, cannons were at the ready on the both the Black Pearl and the enemy ship, which had in bold lettering The Crier on the hull.
Captain Jack, regaining some of his bearings, perhaps sobered by the pending battle, stood at he helm, fingering the wheel, waiting for an opportune moment. He watched the trained enemy crew load the last cannon, and knew there would be a long pause before the Captain, commodore Norrington, called for fire. Jack took advantage of the naval tactic.
"FIRE!" He cried, grasping the wheel tightly as the force of ten cannons caused his ship to shudder violently. Elizabeth, however, had not been expecting the blast so soon and was thrown off balance. She stood up quickly and crouched once again. The split second in which she had provided a view of herself, however, proved a mortal blow.
"IT'S ELIZABETH SWAN!" A member of the opposite crew screamed, audible even over the dotting of rifle fire. She knew then that they would attempt to board and "escort" capture, in her mind, Elizabeth home and turn her into the overprotective hands of her father yet again.
"Will!" She yelled to him, where he stood meters away, preparing to fire his rifle. At the sound of Elizabeth's voice, he jumped up, all concentration thrown aside and sprinted to where she was crouched, every alarm screaming to him that she had been injured.
"Elizabeth," he gasped, throwing his arms around her, "Elizabeth, have you been hit?" He nearly sobbed. "Oh, it's all my fault! I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry…"he continued to apologize, "I know I shouldn't have-"
"WILLIAM!" Elizabeth shouted, maneuvering her way from his grasp. "That's the commodore's ship! They've spotted me!"
At once Turner ceased his fawning and crouched as well next to her.
"Then they will attempt to board. We will not allow for it. Elizabeth, please stay in the Captains quarters. If they do manage to get on board, then perhaps I can keep them from you."
"Will, I'm sorry. But I will not watch this ship be taken from inside a locked room. I shall stay out here and fight. And you must remember that if I am taken, I will not be harmed. They could not harm me. And I will find my way back to you Will Turner, they can't part us with such feeble ways."
Will gazed at her tentatively, lovingly, before standing and running to bring the news to the Captain and crew. Elizabeth watched for just seconds, watching the look of panic spread from face to face as Will darted from man to man. The word seemed to somehow seep below deck, for the crew at the canons crept up from below, keeping low as not to be spotted, and grabbed rifles. Within a moment, the majority of the crew was crouched just below the enemies' line of vision on port side. William had surely formulated a plan, for all men were at the ready, but none firing. Through a knothole, Elizabeth watched as the commodore's men readied the grappling hooks. It appeared that within sparse moments they would attach the ropes and board the Black Pearl.
Captain Jack too observed this as he stood quietly at the wheel, formulating his own plan. He was already certain of William's. It was fine, but not spectacular nor dramatic, as Sparrow preferred. He thought to himself as he eyed his crew waiting tensely for the sign to let fire, and had speculated a possibility in just 30 seconds. Assured that his ship would remain safe, he happily hummed to himself as the commodore's crew came into the last seconds of stand-by status.
Will Turner was not so sure of himself. He was crouched dead center, arms shaking with the strain of keeping the rifle steady. His plan was simple. Shoot each man holding a rope, and should they not stop, wait for the hooks to catch and cut them down with a sword. Nervous, he gazed to Captain Sparrow for reassurance. Jack peered back down at him and nodded solemnly, this apparently was one of the rare occasions when Jack had the dignity to be serious. In that split second when the two men locked eyes, the enemy ship took action. The young man who had earlier yelled to Elizabeth had a rope in hand. It circled over his head…
In the second where the rope was sliding from the man's hand in the beginning of an arched throw, a rifle erupted meters from the helm. Elizabeth staggered slightly backward on her knees, but remained upright. In a moment of excitement, she stood to see the man fall backward, dropping the rope. Blood drenched his right shoulder. In a state of panic, the other ropes were taken into strong arms instantly. But the Black Pearl's crew had been waiting, they brought down all but three of the threats. With a faint thud of metal on wood, the hooks gripped the sides of the ship tightly. Will, alerted by the blast of Elizabeth's rifle and those of the men around him, leaped up, pulling his finely-crafted sword from its sheath and gracefully severing the ropes with an arched swing.
For the moment, the Crier had been defeated, but its men were already racing below deck to load the cannons once more. Once again, both William and Jack Sparrow leaped into action. As though telepathically, each knew the other's idea.
"THE STARBOARD ANCHOR!" Will cried to the crew, gesturing towards the massive iron fixture. He ran across the deck, which was being peppered by bullets, and was followed by four others. In a moment, the anchor was plunging towards the ocean's depths. In perfect synchronization, Captain Jack heaved the wheel completely to the right, and the ship heaved sharply in an almost 90 degree angle.
"Anchor up! Full speed ahead!" Sparrow cried almost gleefully, caught up in the air of the moment. The anchor was heaved back up to the deck and all sails let down. While the Crier confusedly struggled to get into motion once more, the Black Pearl began to gain distance. They were not out of firing range, but nearly in the arms of safety.
With a sudden stroke of brilliance, Will conceived a new plan, one he was almost certain could throw off the Crier.
"All of you! To the stern! Stay low!" The men, disoriented by the rapid change of events, moved quickly to the stern, all climbing the stairs of the helm and overloading it with men. Elizabeth dashed along beside them. Will was waiting, informing Jack Sparrow of his plan as he did so.
"I want you to simply take down as many men as possible. I will be at the cannons. The mast is our target from below. Should one of you be struck, I want another man to move to the front. Do not stop firing! If for any inexplicable reason they make it over here, get out your swords and fight! Now FIRE!" He yelled, retreating quickly and pulling Elizabeth with him.
Together the two raced across the abandoned deck and below to the cannons, where the hull was dotted with blows from the opposing ones.
"Are you alright?" He asked desperately as they ran, taking cannon balls to load.
"Don't fret. I wasn't hit." She said, out of breath as she heaved a deadly iron ball into the barrel.
"That shot," he said appraisingly, "just may have saved us." He smiled quickly through dripping sweat.
"Ready, love?" Elizabeth said with determination.
"Remember. The masts." He said, affixed on his target.
"Aye, aye."
With a deafening blast the cannon Elizabeth was attending let loose its fury. The ball, however was far too wide, and cut cleanly but ineffectively through the sail, taking out only a couple of crew members. Will fired immediately after and watched through the small square opening if his target had hit. For a 5 long seconds, the couple waited in silence, with only the sounds of rifles above. Then, a welcome blast of splintering wood rippled through the air. William repositioned himself just in time to see the centermost mast splitting into two massive pieces. Triumphantly, Elizabeth grabbed his sweating, dirt-streaked hand and stood quickly, heading back to the main deck.
"I'd say that was the saving shot." She smiled to him as they ascended the stairs with surprising speed.
Retrieving her rifle from where she had dropped it, Elizabeth moved to the edge, peering onto the deck of the Crier. All over men lay bloodied and dying. Terrified for the first time, she searched desperately for her father or the commodore. She did not love him, but she could not stand to kill him either. Her father however, she loved deeply. Much to her delight, neither man appeared to be among the mortally wounded.
Still attempting to put up a fight, the men of the Crier shot desperately at the horde of pirates that had diminished their numbers. They raised their heads from the fire only when a sickening crack came from the middle of the deck. They watched, horrified, as the mast crashed down upon helpless mates. Their source of unbeatable speed was destroyed. The battle was over.
Captain Jack watched gaily as the sun rose on the defeated form of the Crier. A bottle of rum would celebrate this nicely, he thought to himself. However, victory still seemed out of reach…there had been something else…
"Jack!" Will called from where he was tending the sails, "Jack! We've forgotten the second naval ship!"
His pride deflated like a balloon, Jack slumped over the wheel.
"All men on deck!" He called with annoyance and impatience, spinning the wheel to the right with irritation.
Elizabeth rushed to the port side to see the second ship sailing at breakneck speed towards the Black Pearl. She scanned anxiously for the notorious British flag, which always flew on her father's ships, but it was not present. Instead an emblem she knew well came into view on the vast sails.
Running as fast as her dress would allow, Elizabeth made her way to Jack Sparrow's side.
"Jack, that's not my father's ship!" She gasped, clutching her chest. He looked at her.
"Dove, you didn't take my advice and drink that, did you?"
"It's not my father's ship! Look at the blasted sails!" She cried, pounding her fist on the stand for the wheel. Jack pulled out his looking glass, eyeing her suspiciously.
"Oh bugger." He sighed. Will stopped short where he was preparing a gun.
"What! What's the matter?" He asked nervously.
"Bugger, bugger, bugger." Jack grunted to himself.
"That's not my father's ship," Elizabeth said through clenched teeth, "That's a pirate ship."