Disclaimer: I do not own Jack, Port Royal, the Smithy, or Will. However, I do own Cindy, Dèsirèè, the situation, the dialogue, the words, THE WORLD! BWHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Author's Note:
It has been awhile hasn't folks? But, I assure you, it's all worth while. I have sweated and slaved to produce this chappie for you. Months in the making, I have poured my blood and tears into this chapter.
…
Alright, so it sucks. But read it anyway, and TELL ME how much it sucks. Enjoy!
Write m/ On
T.F.
P.S. My darling soul mate (heterosexual) wrote the totally awesome description of Will Turner. Read her stuff, its as fantastic as her description!
As they made their way down the darkened streets of Port Royal, Dèsirèè had somehow managed to take the lead, even though she had no idea where they were going. She supposed it was the captain in her.
In all actuality, Jack had fallen back to converse with Cee, and was now desperately attempting to get the courtesan to reveal some of the secrets he was sure Dèsirèè had.
"Well, where does she come from?" asked Jack.
"St. Marie, same as me."
"Is that why she speaks French?"
Cindy stopped to look at him. "No. The monkeys taught her."
Jack considered this for a moment, before glaring at her. They had come to a corner, and Dèsirèè had stopped to glance around. "Which way?" she whispered.
"Starboard," pointed Jack. Upon giving the vital direction, he fell back with Cindy again. "Can ye at least tell me how ye met her?"
Cindy thought back to that night in St. Marie.
She was barely 18 and had already been whoring for three years. She found the men that she met all rather boring. They all did the same things, they all talked the same way, and they all were horribly inadequate in everyway imaginable. That's why she had started taking the sacrilegious cases; women.
The sea breeze had been a little too much for her so she had decided to walk the streets a little bit, stretch her legs before she had to go back to work. She looked at the unusually black horizon, wondering if a bit of rainfall was coming. At that precise moment, a shoe fell down and hit her squarely on top of the head. She picked up the lonely piece of apparel, rubbing her head with wonderment. Another shoe fell just to the left of her.
This was turning out to be a strange type of storm.
However, the real moment of amazement came when a person fell directly on top of her, knocking her down and giving her a headache that, little did she know, was going to last for a good eight years. She pushed herself up and took a good look at the person sprawled across her, so she could remember exactly who she was murdering.
The girl was tall and gangly at first glance, her long arms and legs sprawled out from her trim body. Her hair was about shoulder length and was flopped in front of her face, obscuring the rest of her features. She was also currently impairing Cindy's leg movement, as she was sitting directly on them.
"Are you alright?" inquired Cee politely.
With a moan, the girl sat up, brushing the dark brown locks away to reveal an altogether small face. Her nose was petite, her lips on the thin side and her eyes, though a brilliant crystal blue, were not very large. She had a child's face; an innocent's face.
"Yeah," she replied, twisting her neck this way and that, "I think so."
"Good," retorted Cee before slapping the young lady hard upside the head, pushing her off, and standing up.
"That," insisted the girl angrily, standing up and rubbing her head, "Was entirely uncalled for."
Cee stopped fixing her hair to stare at the girl. "You just fell-"
"I didn't fall," interrupted the girl.
"Alright then," she pressed on, "You were pushed-"
"I wasn't pushed either."
There was a span of uncomfortable silence.
"You jumped?"
"Yeah, I jumped."
Cindy looked at the full height of the building. It was about three stories high. "You could've picked a taller building you know. If you really wanted it to work." The young lady joined her in her perusal of the edifice.
"Yes, I suppose I should've. Oh well," she said, turning to Cee with a smile, bordering on an insane grin, "better luck next time."
Cee looked her up and down. "How old are you? 12? 13?"
"Just turned 15."
"Why don't you come with me?"
"Why on earth should I?"
"'Cause you just landed on me from a three story drop and I have a right to care about your welfare. Now come on. I'll buy us some drinks."
The girl stared at her suspiciously before shrugging and following her down the street to the Captain's Pub. "I'm Dèsirèè Moore by the way. Future pirate."
"I'm Cindy Rowan. Current courtesan."
"Fantastic to meet you."
Cee never did realize that she would be buying drinks for the strange girl her whole life.
"I guess you could say…we bumped into one another one night and…went for drinks," explained Cee.
They were currently across the street from a small, aged smithy, the lights from the bellow long extinguished, the façade dark and uninviting. A sign hung outside the large double doors, practically unreadable in the dim light, squeaking ominously with the passing breeze.
"We going in there?" asked Cee.
"I do believe we are," asserted Dèsirèè.
"…Are you sure we have too?"
Jack joined them at the corner, peering at the building and then scoffing at the obviously reluctant women.
"What a pair of old biddies," he sneered, just loud enough for Dèsirèè and Cindy to hear. They both glanced up at him, eyebrows raised, before looking at each other, straightening up and stomping towards the building, with a very pleased Jack trailing behind them.
Dèsirèè peered around the street warily as she made quick work of the lock. Once she had heard the all too familiar click, she slid the door open slowly, craning her head inside. The embers in the forge still glowed with a hard days work. The moonlight coming in from a small window glinted off of the large collection of perfectly molded steel.
"A smithy?" questioned Dèsirèè, glancing back at Jack. "Why are we-" However, now was not the time to ask such questions as a small group of soldiers were coming down the street. Jack pushed both Dèsirèè and Cindy into the building forcefully, causing the two women to fall into each other and sprawl out onto the hard dirt floor. Jack stepped in quickly behind them and shut the door, leaning back against it, hardly daring to breathe until he heard the last of the men march past. He allowed himself a small sigh of relief that promptly caught in his throat as he caught the death glares being shot at him by the two disgruntled females lounging on the floor.
"Sorry, luv," apologized Jack leaning down to help Dèsirèè up. When Jack uttered the horrid pet name, Dèsirèè's glare increased tenfold and Cindy's brightened to one of obvious amusement. Dèsirèè pushed his proffered hand aside and pushed herself up, while bending down to pull Cindy up a little more forcefully than she should of.
"Just what, pray tell, are we doing in a smithy?" inquired Dèsirèè politely, attempting to keep the biting cynicism out of her voice and undeniably failing.
"We are here," explained Jack slowly, "Because we need to be."
There was a moment of silence as the two women stared at him. Cee was the first to speak.
"Well, that's certainly good enough for me! I suppose I'll go keep watch, yeah?" Without waiting for confirmation she strolled outside, shut the door behind her, leaned back and began thinking furiously about how she was going to tell Dèsirèè about her key when she was in this kind of mood.
"I'm going to try and find someone," asserted Jack vaguely, stepping towards a backroom and stopping to pick up Dèsirèè's hat which had been knocked off in their hasty entry into the building.
"Oh yeah? And what the 'ell am I supposed to do, oh captain my captain?" hissed Dèsirèè, her hands placed on her hips in question.
"Just…stay here," Jack called over his shoulder, disappearing into a back room. He reappeared momentarily to toss Dèsirèè her hat, which she just managed to catch. "And don't touch anything."
Dèsirèè slammed the hat angrily onto her head and stalked around the smithy for several minutes, more restless than she had been in a long while. Finally, mutiny got the best of her and she decided that she would find something of value in this dump and put her hands all over it, just to spite Jack.
She ran her fingers along the row of hilts, listening to the soft lullaby of chime-like clings that followed. Her warm hand wrapped around an icy sword and gently pulled it away from its sleeping brothers.
She gave the weapon an experimental swoop through the air, attempting a few half-hearted parries and thrusts. To Dèsirèè's enormous surprise and delight, a high pitched whine followed the path of the folded steel as it cut through the balmy night air.
Any true swordsman will tell you that in order to be truly gifted at the art, in order to get that bit of infamy that all sword masters crave in their heart of hearts, one's equipment is as important as one's skill. The sword that Dèsirèè was currently holding appraisingly up to a sliver of moonlight was a masterpiece of craftsmanship.
A cold, metal point tickled the base of Dèsirèè's neck, bringing her unpleasantly out of her reverie.
"Who are you?" interrogated a voice from behind her. It was sharp now, but still held an undertone of honey, the tones warm and delightfully sticky to the mind.
"Liam Innis," replied Dèsirèè, keeping calm but now curious, "Who might you be?"
"Liam Innis? The Pirate?" She could feel the man tense behind her.
"No, no, I'm the other Liam Innis," she replied, hoping that the obvious sarcasm would curb the boy's insatiable curiosity.
"Turn around."
"Why?"
"Because I want to see your face, pirate."
"… Why?"
He pressed the tip deeper into her skin, very close to drawing that first bead of scarlet tears.
"Turn."
Dèsirèè made a quick assessment of her situation:
A man was threatening her
She was in an exceptionally pissy mood and needed an outlet
She did NOT like being ordered about
This man could be Jack's friend.
Her decision: disarm her captor, but try not to hurt the poor boy too terribly.
"Alright, alright. I surrender." Dèsirèè began to slowly turn around. Several things now happened very quickly.
First, the only way that Dèsirèè could turn around meant that the man behind her was forced to lower his blade somewhat.
Secondly, as Dèsirèè turned, she unsheathed her sword and made to knock her opponent's out of his hands.
Unfortunately, Dèsirèè had not counted on the boy being quite as fast as he was. As soon as he heard her draw her sword he attempted to raise his back up. The tip grazed the back of Dèsirèè's neck and just missed her head before she was able to knock it down.
Thankfully, she was quick enough so that she placed her blade just under her chin. She took this opportunity to examine her opponent.
The 'boy' was really only a few years younger than herself, and extremely good looking. Long chestnut hair was swept into a messy pony tail, and shorter pieces framed his beautiful masculine face. Large, currently defiant and curious brown eyes stared at the gawking pirate in front of him under arched brows, his face set off by a straight nose and thin lips, with a stubborn, strong chin. He was shirtless, obviously just finishing up closing the smith, and his sweat left the tan muscles gleaming. Narrow hips were attached to long, strong legs covered in good, leather boots. He continued staring at Dèsirèè until something just behind her caught his attention.
It took a moment to realize what the boy was looking at, before it let itself be heard. Loudly.
"Mon dieu, fille! Je sorte for one minute, and already you're getting into trouble!"
"I'm not in trouble!" protested Dèsirèè, never letting her eyes off the man, a smirk gracing her lips, "I'm just having a bit of fun."
"Yeah, well, your fun has knocked your hat off again." Cindy came up beside her, floppy hat in hand.
Dèsirèè started and realized why he had been looking at her so strangely. She shook out her hair and took the hat with her other hand.
"Damn thing. It used to work so well." She examined it as closely as she could with one hand. "Probably needs re-blocking or something." A cheeky snort answered her and she turned back with surprise to her attacker, reexamining him. Dèsirèè would probably never admit it, but she found him very 'comforting' to look at (the word 'comforting' here being used in the context of 'so incredibly good looking she was reconsidering her rule of mixing business with pleasure').
"Dessy," sang Cee softly, attempting to get a better look at her comrade's face, "Heeeellllooooooo….."
Dèsirèè shook herself out of her daze, before rubbing her eyes and muttering, "I am going to kill Jack." Her challenger immediately relaxed, or as much relaxing as one can do with a sword placed at his throat.
"You're friends of Jack?" he asked, his dark brown eyes questioning. Dèsirèè nodded and replaced her blade in her sheath. Cindy moved closer to the pair and was about to try and tell Dèsirèè something rather important when she finally got a good look at their previous prisoner, and whistled low.
"Well," she said, her eyebrows raised, "You are just about enough to have a woman reconsider her decisions."
Dèsirèè turned to her old friend, an eyebrow raised in humor when, at that exact moment, Jack burst into the room, and looked about wildy.
"Wha' did I miss?"
Dèsirèè stared at him.
"Have I mentioned your timing is impeccable?"
Jack grinned and ambled over to the group. "Many women have luv. Many women have." The man and Cindy rolled their eyes simultaneously. Jack glanced over at a now entirely befuddled man and his grin widened.
"Oi, William! Please, put on some clothes, there are ladies present, mate."
Will noticed his lack of apparel for the first time and his face immediately turned a charming shade of cherry.
"No, no, no," assured Cindy frantically, "Please, you are not offending us at all. Rather the opposite really." Dèsirèè looked back at her, an expression of astonishment on her face. "What! You were thinking the same thing, don't deny it."
"Yeah, well at least I didn't say it. I mean, I have more dignity than that."
"Please! Remember that time in San Luig when you-"
Dèsirèè quickly clamped a hand over Cindy's smug mouth. "We are never to discuss what happened in San Luig."
"What happened in San-?" inquired Jack off-handedly.
"NOTHING. Nothing happened. I was never there."
"But," Will started, pulling a dirty shirt over his head, "She just said-"
Dèsirèè stepped towards him, seriously invading his personal space. "I. 'Ave never been. To San Luig. Don't even know where the 'ell it is." Upon asserting this, she stepped back calmly, cleared her throat, and proffered her hand. "I don't believe we've been introduced."
"Will Turner."
"Dèsirèè Moore. Also known as Liam Innis, but I haven't been called that for years."
Author's Note: THERE! I have finally introduced the most beloved Will Turner. What did you think? Hm? Sexah enough for you?
Read, Review, Enjoy. The three steps to happiness.
Your Obedient,
T.F.