Author's Note: Hello and welcome to chapter four! I am sorry to say that Commodore Norrington and his children will not be joining us for this chapter. But there is tons of Jack for all you pirate fans out there. I would like to thank all my reviewers ElfLuver13, Deceptive Kindness, Charlotte Norrington and Kisskagome13. You guys are great! And I'd also like to thank my wonderful beta, Mystress of the Dark for her help with this chapter. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or its characters.
Chapter Four A Meeting at the Lioness
"And there she was, struggling' and strainin' against the sea. Oh it was a sore sight for any man's eyes with the Captain latched to the helm screamin' out all his madness."
The old tavern keeper paused in his storytelling for a moment and snatched up Jack's empty mug. Mindlessly, he filled it to the brim with amber rum.
"She gave one great lurch, I say, as if it were in her mind that she were goin' down into the black depths."
"And then?" Jack prompted lazily, grabbing back his mug.
The man smiled proudly till every one of his moldy teeth showed. "There was a great crack and her hull split open. Finally the wave had conquered her." He laughed challengingly and brushed his heavy knuckles over the wisps of white hair clinging to his head. Jack fingered the beads hanging from his beard, making them dance against the wooden counter. The Lioness was empty tonight save for two grimy patrons that glowered over a checkers game in the corner.
"King me!" one proclaimed loudly and slammed his black piece down on the board.
"What are you playin' at? Cheatin' me you stupid sod!" his opponent bellowed back.
"Aye, take it outside then," the tavern keeper cried as a minor tussle ensued. "This here is a fine establishment." He spit onto the counter and ran his greasy rag along it. Jack lifted his mug as the cloth bypassed him. The others were already halfway out the door when the sound of flesh and fist colliding echoed in the street. Jack listened to the fracas for a moment. He much preferred the taverns in Tortuga. This one happened to be too small for his liking with rough wooden chairs clustered loosely around tables. Out of sheer boredom, he pulled his chair up to the long counter and prodded the old man for sea tales. But much to his dismay the stories conjured were lackluster and he began to feel the familiar ache for some sort of excitement…anything.
"I have a better story for ye mate, much better," he said confidently.
The tavern keeper cast a watery glance towards him. "Eh?"
"Ever hear of the Black Pearl?" Jack asked.
"Heard enough," he allowed as the door creaked open. Briefly the sound of the two men scuffling in the street blared through. But the cloaked patron shut the door quickly and only the constant roar of the ocean could be heard. Jack and the old man ignored the new arrival who found a seat not too far away.
"Well I can tell you more," Jack continued. He took a long draught from his mug to build up the suspense. "I found her off of Isla de Muetra seven years back. And I fought the dreaded Captain Barbossa meself."
"Codswallop." The old man turned away, unimpressed. "Everyone's heard that tale before. Old news mate."
Jack frowned as his listener turned away to attend to the other customer. His tales were failing to catch attention these days. Perhaps the famous Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't so famous anymore. Truth be told he had only come to Port Royal to dodge some relentless debt-collectors. The Pearl had been badly banged up in a recent run-in with a merchant ship. It was all Jack could do to sail her safely around to Tortuga and get her patched up. But his funds were low and the price for repair was high. After an impromptu getaway he instructed Anamaria and Gibbs to sail his beloved ship about for a while and to drop him off in the only place the debt collectors would never search for him, Port Royal. He alerted the Turners to his arrival and had enjoyed a private Sunday dinner with them. They had offered to shelter him until his departure though he promptly declined. He wanted to return to his ship as soon as possible and if Anamaria could be counted on she would arrive in three days. So far he had managed to go along undetected and keep his head out of the noose. If only his luck would continue…
The thought of such an end made him tense. He drummed his fingertips along the rim of his mug. Money, if only he had a few pieces of gold he could fend the men off. But it would be hard to maraud and plunder without drawing attention to himself.
"Do you have any wine?" The cloaked patron had drawn up a chair and now sat to his right. Jack was surprised to hear a female voice issue from beneath the brown hood.
"Sorry ma'am I gots rum, rum and more rum," the old man said gruffly. "What'll ye be havin'?"
She sighed. "Rum, I suppose."
"Aye, a fine choice if I do say so meself," he remarked and proceeded to fill a fresh mug. Jack watched the woman closely for a moment. She sat still, hands clasped on the counter. He saw her bony knuckles, like snowy mountains protruding beneath the flesh. Her hands were otherwise well-cared for, the nails clean and even. A woman of breeding in a tavern like this?
The old man placed the mug down hard and traces of rum spilled over. "There ye are."
She nodded stiffly and wrapped her fingers around the handle. A few minutes past by and she still did not raise it to her lips. Jack fidgeted and drained his own mug. This lady, whoever she was, certainly had no taste for rum.
"Are ye goin' to drink that, lass?" he asked finally. The cloaked woman shifted and turned around till she faced him. The firelight from the candles just caught her face enough to give him a brief outline. She looked young and pale.
"No." She slid the mug along the bar towards him. "You take it."
"Thanks, love, money's tighter than anything these days." Gratefully, he gulped the drink until his insides blazed with newfound warmth.
The woman still eyed him, dissecting his every feature. "Are you a sailor, sir?"
"You could say that," he answered.
"Would you take a job if I offered it to you?" she asked. "For money."
"What sort of job then?" Jack asked somewhat suspiciously. It was not every day that a high placed woman waltzed into a seedy tavern and offered him a job.
"More like a favor…Captain Sparrow."
Jack bolted out of his chair. It wobbled violently and crashed to its side with an almighty clatter.
"Aye, take it outside then!" the old man shouted mechanically from the other side of the tavern.
"I'm sorry, sir." The woman leapt to her feet as well. Her hood fell back and revealed a thin, chalky face. "I didn't mean to upset you."
"It's not wise to bandy about a name like that," Jack warned, eyeing the lass. "Especially with people like the Commodore running about. Ye could have an innocent man put to death for no reason."
"I'm sorry." She was pleading now. "Truly, I meant no offence. I am not from around here." Skillfully, Emer let her brogue slip through. Being around pirates made her nervous and with good reason. Her husband's horrendous tales of murders and raids still chilled her to the bone. But a woman must do what a woman must.
"I can tell that," Jack replied. In his mind he began to weigh his chances. The girl didn't look like much of a threat. But then again, Elizabeth Turner appeared demure and sweet when she wasn't battling Barbossa's men.
"Mr. O'Riley then." Emer forced herself to sit though her legs shook terribly. "That's a nice name isn't it? I'll just call you Mr. O'Riley. Yes?"
Jack sighed. This could be trouble. But the thought of gold calmed him. Reluctantly he up righted his chair and plopped down upon it. After all he was known for taking risks. It had given him his one-time famous name.
"Where ye from, love?"
"County Galway," she said hurriedly, her words rushing together. "In Ireland."
"Been to Dublin meself," Jack said slowly, letting his hand rest on his thigh near his cutlass.
"Dublin's alright, I suppose." Emer frowned as she remembered the city. "But Galway is much nicer. The countryside is beautiful and on summer evenings the twilight seems to last forever."
"Aye so it does," said the pirate dreamily thinking of his own beloved Caribbean sunsets.
"See the matter is, I don't have much experience in sailing." She looked at him hopefully. "And I need a job done. I can pay you well."
"Now why would such a fine upstanding lady like yerself wander down hear and want to hire a sailor ye hardly know?" Jack questioned shrewdly. He half expected the Commodore's men to come bursting through the door. But it was either that or face his debtors, and he thought he had more of chance remaining where he was.
"I have heard of your reputation from certain people that I hold in high esteem," Emer said, studying her hands folded in front of her. "Mistress Turner told me of how you helped her escape from Captain Barbossa's hold and how you saved the men of the Dauntless."
"I don't know about saved," Jack mumbled, then shook his head quickly. "Which is not me saying that I am this certain person yer talking about. Everyone's heard that tale around these parts." Though it hadn't been mentioned recently, he thought grimly.
"I have also heard of how Mistress Turner broke her engagement to the Commodore and he pined for some time." Now she could not repress the sigh that rose up within her. It filled her lungs, threatening to burst and burn if she did not release it.
"What is it yer asking of me, missy?" Jack let his eyes dart around the tavern. No sign of the Commodore's men yet.
"I want you to sail me about in your ship," she said softly. For all her planning and dreaming, her own words now frightened her. "Pretend to kidnap me like Barbossa did to Mistress Turner. And then when the Commodore has just about caught up with you…"
"Commodore?" Here it was. Jack raised himself slightly off his chair, ready to flee.
"Let me finish," Emer replied firmly as if she were speaking to one of her children. "Commodore Norrington will chase after me once he has learned of my so-called 'capture'. And when the Dauntless is bearing down on you, I will go off in a small boat and row back to him, buying you time to get away."
Jack stared at her dumbfounded. "And why would ye want to go through all this trouble."
"Well," she said, shifting awkwardly. "I thought perhaps if the good Commodore was forced to rescue me just as he did with Mistress Turner all those years ago he might…he might look at me the same way he does her."
"Ye want to reenact the whole escapade with the Black Pearl?" Jack's dark eyebrows shot up.
"Yes more or less. Without the dead pirates and all." She smiled widely.
"Are ye daft?" But then he grinned. "Daft like me."
"What I am offering, Mr. O'Riley, is enough gold to keep you well for a long time, an easy way to enhance your reputation and a guarantee that you will not come to harm though you may have the entire Royal Navy stationed at Port Royal after you."
"No one can guarantee that darling."
"I can," Emer answered swiftly.
"How?"
"Though he doesn't like to admit it, Commodore James Norrington will do what I say. And if I am standing aboard his ship after my harrowing 'capture' begging him to spare the life of the misled pirate who conducted me with all honor off his ship and back to safety, well I doubt he would refuse."
"And what makes ye think that ye hold that much power over the ol' Commodore?"
"Simple." Emer said softly. "I am his wife."
Jack leaned back dangerously far on his chair and chuckled. "So I see, love. Well, if ye don't mind me saying Norrie's done pretty good for himself since I last saw him."
"Two children as well," she added.
"Been busy too."
"So what do you say, Mr. O'Riley? I give you my word as an Irishwoman from County Galway."
"Where the twilight last forever?"
"Yes." She nodded hopefully.
"Now what's in it for me again?"
"I've already told you, money and a new tale for you to spin. Imagine telling people how you led the Royal Navy on a wild goose chase throughout the Caribbean without coming to any harm."
"Aye," he mumbled appreciatively. "I likes the sound of that. But maybe I'm not being sensible. Common sense would suggest that I would have fled the moment ye recognized me. How did ye do that by the way?"
Emer allowed herself a low chuckle. "All the times James has described you to me. I could point you out anywhere. And I heard word that you were in town. The rest was just luck. I thought you might stop in for a drink and I was right. "
"Mmm," Jack studied his mug for a minute. "What happens in the unfortunate event that yer dear husband doesn't take the bait?"
"He will," Emer said confidently. "I know my James."
"But if he doesn't?"
"Well then, you and I will have the pleasure of returning to Port Royal with your canons pointed squarely at his stubborn self."
"I like the way ye think, mate," he said, eyes shining with mirth and a good deal of rum. "Might I ask yer name?"
"Emer," she answered and rose slowly.
"Well Emer," Jack said as he pushed back his stool and managed to find his feet. "Maybe it's because I have had more than me share of drink tonight and I'm about as soused as any good fellow, but I've always been one to take chances. Do we have an accord?" He held out his hand and Emer hesitated. Finally she smiled and shook it.
"Yes, Captain Sparrow. I believe we do."
Author's Note: I know, not like Jack to be so trusting, especially of the Commodore's wife. But just wait until Anamaria gets her hands on him. Thanks for reading! Please review.
