The Oldest Story in the Book

Chapter 33

Disclaimer: I've been told I should stop saying they're not mine because they have become something more than the movie (which almost made me cry I was so happy). So I'm going to say I proudly own Pearl and Emmie and Edward Norrington. I think they'd still argue about Jack but I leave that to you.

They emerged nearly an hour later, heads still spinning a bit from the selection of clothing. The man who had volunteered to cloth them seemed to have a taste that was a bizarre mix of Aztec clothing and the influence of India (his wife had a taste for such things, or so Jack said with a smirk). The result was a combination of colors that nearly hurt the eyes, with small gold bobbles everywhere.

Jack proudly wore pants so red they pained the eyes with a green scarf tied around his waist, a vest so covered in fringe an bobbles it was amazing he remained upright, and his trademark bandana around his head.

Norrington himself had chosen as reasonably as possible. He wore pants a deep navy blue (which he approved of only because the color reminded him of the Navy coat he had to leave behind) a shirt of a fairly dark green that was heavy with embroidery and beads around the neck. Jack insisted that he cover the belt his sword hung from with a bandana, as they all apparently did. He had chosen a piece of cloth that was a yellow so deep it was almost orange which appealed to him, reminding him a bit of a sunset.

Will, with Jack's help, had complete abandoned all good sense and had finally selected a very red pare of pants that were slit half up the lower leg covered with embroidery and beads, an embroidered green shirt, and a bandana of vibrant yellow.

Ethan, much to Norrington's horror, attacked the clothing with an enthusiasm he hadn't seen the boy display on land since he was a child. He chose the brightest yellow pants he could find, covered in beads, the most vibrant red shirt, also covered in beading, and a bright green bandana for his belt. Despite the fact that his hair was hardly long enough to warrant it, he insisted on another bandana of bright yellow to wrap around his head, this one lined with tiny flat gold disks that clinked musically as he moved.

Jack led them out of the small wooden space and back toward the fire where Diamond sat. Two women were beside her, one on the log with her leg stretched out so the other could bend over it in something like deep concentration.

"What are they doing?" Will asked Jack as they approached.

"Ah, looks like your lovely wife may return to you with some interesting art on her body."
Both men turned to the women with wide eyes. It took a moment to register that indeed, this was Pearl and Elizabeth.

There was a bottle of ink next to Pearl which she continually dipped into with a long stick and returned to Elizabeth's unabashedly uncovered leg, her high-slitted yellow-orange skirt lined in gold disks thrown aside. She was laughing beneath a tight red blouse covered in embroidery, pushing the green bandana out of her face along with the escaping hair. Gold jewelry glistened everywhere on her.

"Elizabeth, what are you doing!" Will cried.

"It's paint," Elizabeth said quickly, catching the look on his face. "It will wash off."
Smiling, Pearl put the brush aside and stood.

What Will said, Norrington would never know. He was positively mesmerized by the woman standing before him.

Pearl wore what appeared to be a very short vest pulled tight, revealing her stomach and a great deal of bust, held in place by two small black catches. It was thread-of-gold, covered in red beads. Mesh also in thread-of-gold, almost lace, was attached to the straps over her shoulders in an unfinished sleeve that was open on top of her arm, pulling together only at the shoulder, elbow, and wrist. A light blue shawl left to carelessly drift into the dirt gave the illusion of propriety, and denied it at the same time. Her skirt was slit high in four places, also bright red embroidered in thread-of-gold with a rainbow of beads attached almost at random. It moved around her legs as she walked, freely revealing the white flesh while keeping up thinnest veil of propriety.

She too wore a bandana around her head, the exact same color red as her fiery hair, lined with the clinking gold beads. Long, hanging earrings clinked as she moved, as did the twenty or so slim gold bracelets around each of her ankles and wrists. A large gold necklace, heavy with sparkling rubies, encircled her neck.

Pearl stopped with a few feet still between them, dropping a low curtsy. "My Lord Commodore."

He bowed in return. "My Lady Sparrow."

Pearl laughed as she straightened. "Mind who you're calling Lady now." She moved forward, straightening the beaded collar. Her hands seemed to tarry longer than necessary, so close to the warm flesh of his throat. Their eyes met.

"Oy! I'll have none of that!" Jack cried. Suddenly he hauled Pearl back by one arm and inserted himself between them. Pearl giggled under her breath as Norrington looked at the pirate with obvious confusion. "If you two want to get all lovely-dovey you'd best get a room. It's bad enough I have to think on it. I'll not stand SEEING it."

"It's not my fault," Pearl objected. "It's the clothes. You know how I am with these beautiful things. How can I not want to play with a toy in such pretty wrapping?"

Norrington glared at her, uncertain he liked being referred to as a toy. Pearl staunchly ignored the look, turning her glare on Jack, who had narrowed his eyes suspiciously. Finally he said, "I'd best set a guard. Where's Emmie? Oy, dove, over here." Norrington looked in the direction Jack had called, realizing he hadn't yet caught sight of his daughter. When he did he wished he hadn't.

The skirt, in the brightest yellow he'd yet seen, was the most sensible of the skirts he'd seen so far. A light blue scarf held back her red hair, lined with the gold disks. It was the top she wore that made his mouth hang open. It was little more than a bright orange scarf folded in half, just wide enough to cover her breasts as she tied it over them. The double line of gold coins jingled musically as she came over to Jack, as did the gold bracelets and other jewelry she was draped in.

"Yes Jack?" Emmie asked as Norrington continued to stare. He was vaguely aware of his son next to him doing the same.

"I have a job for you," Jack said as if she stood before him in a full gown. "I want you to keep an eye on your parents. Probably the whelp as well. No kissing, no funny business, no--are you chocking, Commodore?"

All eyes turned on him. He realized he was making odd noises deep in his throat, escaping up and out of his mouth. He considered trying to behave as if it were a normal situation, but his control snapped when he turned his eyes on Pearl's confused face. "You let her dress like this!" he burst out.

Pearl glanced over at her daughter. "I suppose. The Aztec influence is really much stronger than the Indian, but I leave well enough alone. She's old enough to decide for herself."

"But, just look at her!" Emmie's grinning from ear to ear, shifting just slightly so the skirt brushed against her legs, hands clasped innocently behind her, nearly blushing with pride. "It's a miracle none of the men have attacked her yet."

"Oh, do come. Some of these men are capable of exerting self-control over themselves." Grinning like a Cheshire cat she moved closer. "I on the other hand--"

"What did I just finish saying!" Jack demanded.

Pearl shook her head, exhaling sharply in frustration. "What, I finally start getting Edward to loosen up so you decide to take his place as head tight-ass?"

"If I may intercede, it really is completely inappropriate, especially for a girl as young as--" Will paused, swallowing hard when eyes turned on him. "That is, a girl--"

"Ah, it seems you have competition for the title," Pearl said with a wave toward Will. "Anyone else care to insinuate that I'm doing a poor job caring for my daughter?"

"It's my choice of clothing they're so upset by," Emmie put in. "I believe if anyone's to be insulted here it should be me."

"Now why is it that you Sparrows can't set foot on this island more than five minutes without arguing?"

They all turned at the sound of the new voice. Pearl broke into a grin. "I've been looking for you. What took you so long to find us, Nikko?"

Norrington stared at the African woman before them. She had aged since he first met her on the ship, wrinkles sneaking up onto her face and the smallest traces fo grey painting her hair. She was dressed in outrageous colors, as were the rest of the island residents, although her bright dress was much more conservative than anything else the present company wore.

"Well, it certainly wasn't the lack of noise." Her eyes bore into Norrington with the same knowing look he remembered from before, as if she were reading his soul. "It is lovely to see you again, Edward, although I had expected we would meet before this time."

"I'm sorry to have disappointed you," he answered, unsure what the proper response was.

"It's not me has felt the sting of disappointment," she answered with a pointed glance at Pearl.

"Nikko," Pearl said, the warning clear in her voice. "Sometimes I wish you had the opportunity to meet Maggie. You're nearly as obnoxiously observant. Speaking of which, this is her son, Ethan, and the Turners."

"It is a supreme pleasure to meet you," she greeted with a curtsy. "Especially those that did such a fine job raising Emmie."

"It is an equal pleasure meeting one of Pearl's friends," Elizabeth answered. "I--"

"Yes, everyone's delighted," Pearl broke in. "It's bloody fantastic. I want to dance."

Elizabeth paused in her curtsy to glance toward Pearl. "It's a pity we couldn't teach her any manners."

"Oh, I know plenty of manners," Pearl said flippantly, "and I know how to use them when I want. But right now I want to dance. Come, Edward. You should come as well, Turners."

"I want to dance," Emmie sighed.

"Grab Ethan," Elizabeth suggested.

Pearl and Emmie shared a look, then burst out laughing. "This isn't ballroom dancing, Elizabeth. I don't believe her brother is the best choice of partner." Pearl turned to her still-giggling daughter. "I'm certain you'll be able to find several volunteers."

"Are you coming, Jack?" Emmie asked as Elizabeth took firm hold of Will's hand.

"I believe I'll chat a bit longer with this charming young thing," Jack answered, at which Diamond chuckled. "I'll join you later."

"Aye Captain," Pearl said, grabbing Edward's hand and dragging him toward the dancing group. Giggling and twirling Emmie followed as Ethan walked beside her and the Turners and Nikko followed.

It seemed every gypsy in the camp was gathered under the lights hung from the trees. Ribbons and colored paper painted the light around the people in equally diverse colors. The group nearly made the eyes hurt. Jewelry and coins on cloth clinked musically in rhythm with the musicians off to the side.

As they approached the group was forming three circles, two smaller rings of women surrounded by a larger group of men.

"It's a tribal dance," Pearl explained with a sigh. "The moves are memorized, and the responses. We'll have to wait for the next."

"You don't know the moves?" Elizabeth asked.

"Oh, I do," Pearl said. "But I'm not about to abandon you." As they watched the bride and groom, both wearing seven or eight layers of clothing, moved to the very center of the rings. The woman was draped in green from head to foot, covered in flowers and beads, her white teeth flashing in her dark face. The groom was dressed much more simply, and grinning just as broadly as he wrapped his arms around her. She attempted to bat him away, laughing as his light hands continually shifted. Norrington was struck by the scene. In Port Royal the pair would be pelted with fruit and hung from the nearest tree. Here the couple received pats on the back and snickering suggestive calls as they moved through the crowd come to bless them.

Pearl didn't seem the least bit interested in the couple. Her eyes were focused on the dancers gathering around, eyes bright. She was nearly salivating. "You should go," Norrington said to Pearl. "If we have to wait anyway we may as well watch you."

Pearl's eyes sparkled as she looked at him, eyes cutting back to the rest of the group. "You truly don't mind?"

"We insist," Will said.

Hopping a bit she looked to Nikko. "You coming?"

"I should be delighted," she answered. Linking hands Nikko laughed as Pearl ran in a flash of bare leg that nearly made Norrington blush through the circle of men to settle into the center ring.

The women quickly joined the center circle with a grin. Norrington shifted to find a place next to Emmie. "Do you not wish to dance?"

Emmie shook her head. "I don't know the moves well enough."

He gave her a confused look. "Haven't you been here often as Pearl?"

"Heavens no," Emmie laughed. "She grew up here. I'd make the wrong move for certain."

"Would that be so bad?" Elizabeth asked.

"Oh, aye," Emmie said. "This dance is a prayer. A wish for blessings from the Gods to be bestowed upon the couple. If anyone makes a mistake the Gods will be most displeased."

Norrington eyed the large group before him. "Do they really believe that?"

Emmie shrugged. "I couldn't say. But there is tradition behind it."

They fell silent as the music started. The group seemed to move as one. The women in the middle twirled, the rings moving in opposite directions as a haunting melody began. The men added their voices to it, an odd chant as the marched resolutely around the women in line with the beat.

He shivered when the women twirled suddenly, their own haunting voices rising in an answering chant. He watched as they moved as one, the words of a language he'd never heard before in his life swirled around them like the skirts of the women. They raised their arms, snapping their wrists and feet to set the gold bands around their wrists and ankles jangling in tune.

"How do they do that?"

"They fall into a trance, or so I've been told," Emmie answered. "Their body just moves, and they follow." Norrington shivered as he met Pearl's eyes, and saw the emptiness behind the orbs.

Finally the chanting voices stopped and the movements slowed. The music cut off and the crowd slowly dispersed. The bride and groom accepted blessings and offered sincere thanks as the revelers dispersed.

Pearl tripped over to them, laughing brightly in sharp contrast to the solemn dance she had just done. "Oh, the energy!" she gushed. "Do you feel it?"

He gave her an odd look. "I'm afraid I don't."

Pearl shrugged, waving one hand, setting her bracelets jangling. "You will, tomorrow, when they dance to our honor." His heart skipped a beat as she drew closer, taking his hand in hers with a light laugh.

The music suddenly swelled behind them. A cry went up as couples rushed into the glowing clearing to claim spots beneath the lanterns hung from the trees above.

"Come, Edward, I'm not through dancing yet." With a laugh she slipped her shawl around him and started dragging him toward the clearing.

"But I don't know the steps."

"There aren't steps," Pearl laughed as he ducked out of her clutches. "You just move. This is real dancing."

"I should mind Ethan," he objected.

"I will see to him," Nikko offered.

"You see? There's no better keeper in this land than Nikko."

"Your continuing to draw breath would account for that," Nikko muttered.

"Oh, bugger off," Pearl ordered. "Come." This time when she drew the cloth around him she looped one end around his arm, capturing him good and well, leading him into the light.

He sighed, realizing how ridiculous it looked when he attempted to shrug her off. He followed her into the clearing, looking nervously around him at the cavorting couples. "Please tell me you don't expect me to do that."

Pearl laughed, drawing close to remove her shawl but whispering tantalizingly in his ear, "I don't expect a thing from you, Edward. I, on the other hand, intent to blend perfectly in." With that she stepped back, raised her hands over her head to allow the shawl to drip down behind her and began to gyrate her hips in the most alluring--and atrocious, he reminded himself--way.

Suddenly the possessive being in him took over. He stepped quickly forward, exchanging one impropriety for another by putting his hands on her hips in an attempt to still her, eyes quickly checking to make sure no one else was gawking at the spectacle she was making of herself.

She laughed drawing closer, the swaying continuing beneath his hands. Suddenly there was no space between them. One arm wrapped securely around his neck to pull him close and press her hips to his. He tried to step back, but Pearl stepped with him. He made that attempt again, only to be thwarted yet again. He found himself leading a ridiculous waltz as Pearl continued to tempt him.

Finally he stopped, looking down at Pearl's laughing eyes. "Please have pity on me. I've been a year without a wife." A nasty grin crossed his face. "We've not all had our pirate lovers popping up to challenge us to duels."

Pearl grinned wickedly, completely ignoring the insinuation. "That's your own fault, Commodore. I've offered often enough."

Just as he was giving up all hope of controlling his responses Pearl spun out of his arms. Lifting her hands over her head she continued to gyrate, now offering her back end to his inspection. He groaned, so distracted he failed to notice that she had left one end of her shawl wrapped firmly around his arm. With a jerk of the hand still holding the other end of the fabric she brought him tripping toward her. Guiding him into place she wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him close and leading his steps. He groaned into her ear, dropping his head to her shoulder for a moment, hearing her chuckle. He gave into the temptation to nip at the smooth skin presented to him, earning a delighted shriek from her. She obviously hadn't been expecting that. He grinned.

"You needn't look so pleased with yourself," she informed him, spinning in his arms yet again. "Just because my tainting you is going better than I had planned."

He opened his mouth to answer but paused when a flash of red hair caught his eye over Pearl's shoulder. Emmie, he realized as he found her in the crowd. Dancing with a rather handsome pirate lad. Dancing much the same way her parents were at that moment.

His face colored. A firm hand on Pearl's shoulder stopped her movements. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he answered, moving to step around her.

She turned quickly, eyes settling on their daughter. "Oh, good. She found a partner."

"Good?" Norrington repeated. "I'm going to pound him to mush."

Pearl gave him a confused look. "Why would you do that?"

"Look how he's touching our daughter!"

Pearl glanced back at the couple. "She doesn't seem to be attempting to escape."

"She's a child," Norrington replied.

"She's fifteen. And a pirate. Hardly a child. She's perfectly capable of making her own choices."

"If she were in Port Royal she would never be allowed--"

"If she were in Port Royal you'd have her married off by now," Pearl snapped. "And I believe the list of things she would never be allowed to do is exactly the reason she chose to leave Port Royal."

"But she's my daughter!" he objected.

"She has been your daughter for fifteen years, and out from under your watchful eye for five of those years, and hardly doing so badly for herself."

"Well, no, not with a pirate and a whore's daughter to guide her." He stopped when he saw Pearl's face, her hands going to her hips and one bare foot tapping the trodden grass. "That was too far huh?"

"Just a bit," Pearl answered. "You're fortunate I'm in a good mood tonight." She smiled, a sudden coy look finding its way onto her lips which he knew from experience was never a good sign as she took his hand. "Come with me."

With no other choice he followed, stumbling a bit as she led him into the woods away from the lantern light. The moon shown brightly, illuminating limbs and logs as they followed a path of sorts. Norrington was suddenly glad he had refused to give up his boots.

Pearl laughed as she led him deeper into the dark, releasing his hand to twirl to the remaining strains of the music that followed them. She was twenty all over again, not a mother, not a woman who had spent long and hard years on the sea. She was a gay gypsy twirling through the woods like a bizarre sprite.

"Pearl, would you please tell me what you're doing?"

She turned suddenly, tugging his arm in a move that sent him careening into a tree. He grunted as his back connected with a birch, looking down on Pearl who was suddenly standing two inches from him. "We are going to Nikko's cabin. She lives back here, in this secluded little one-room place." She moved closer, somehow, despite the fact that there was no room between them. He closed his eyes, unable to look at her in that moment, tilting his head back against the tree in a failed attempt to gather his scattered wits. As if to deny him that ability her head tilting forward to brush his chin in the lightest of touches. His breath hitched at that simple contact. "She's given it to us for the night. It's the perfect place for us to be alone." He shivered at the warm puff of air against his neck. He looked down at her, and there she was, those beautiful brown eyes simple pools of white moonlight, those cheekbones, the slight scar (the nick of a knife lifetimes ago) on one cheek standing out in sharp relief. The fall of short-chopped hair held back by the bandana.

His hand found its way to the base of her neck, working the knot there and removing the bandana to allow her hair to fall free. The wind captured it immediately, sending it questing toward him like tiny fingers straining to touch him.

Her hands found their way to his chest to steady herself as she rose unsteadily onto her bare toes among the tangled roots. He hunched a bit in response, his arms steadying her with a gentle pressure at the base of her spine, heated bare skin soft as velvet under his calloused hands. She leaned forward to brush his lips with hers. Her hair swirled around them as if to hide them even from the gaze of any curious night animals. Her hands shifted up his arms and into his hair, drawing him down to meet her half-way as she pushed her lips onto his.

Electricity lanced through him so bright and full he was surprised the wood around them didn't glow with it. He pressed forward suddenly, pulling her closer, kissing her hungrily. By the time they separated they were both completely breathless.

"Sixteen years," Pearl whispered, staring at him as they both gasped for breath. "Sixteen years is far too long."

"No," he said, stepping forward to take her hand. "Another moment is far too long. Where is this cabin of Nikko's?"

Author's Note: So there it is. And off to Europe I go. See you when I get back in about a month.