A/N: Alright, peoples- this is my first Fanfic, and it might be good, but it might be awful. I don't know. I need you to tell me, honestly. Flames are accepted, but reviews are welcomed. Please, be nice, but if you're not I won't be offended. So thanks, and I know people hate reading those little responses to reviews in a chapter, but I only think it's fair to take the time to respond when you are kind enough to take time to review.
Summery: Well, basically a Jack/Anna Maria romance… don't see to many of those anymore, and I think that they're made for each other in a mismatched way… so here's my theory on how a woman got on the Pearl. And for future reference, not only is this before the movie, but the movie never happens… I mean with stealing her boat and stuff with Will and Liz- too confusing. :)
Alrighty, now for the greatly anticipated disclaimer! I own The Pearl, Captain Sparrow, and… oh wait that's my little fantasy world. I take everything back. I only own my computer that I'm typing this fic on. And the DVD… and various other PotC paraphernalia. That's all.
Chapter One
Saved by a Sparrow
I shivered. It was a cold night on the deck of the abandoned ship, 'The Tempest'. At least, that's what a drunken sailor painted on her side years before, when her real name had been washed away by years of salt. No one remembered the Tempest's original name. I had 'discovered' it after running away from that dreaded place. One day I was on my way to Port Royal, the next, captured by filthy pirates, and sold to a… a brothel.
It was awful- I was locked in a room with more of an undergarment than a dress and only a small amount of stale food slipped through the door. I stayed in that room, no; cell, for three days until the first came. I recall telling the owner of the brothel that I couldn't stay here; I was a maiden- a virgin. A brothel is no place for a young lady like me. He laughed and I had a feeling that I would probably go to the highest bidder. And I did. The fist man smelled very strongly of alcohol, but he seemed and acted sober. His hair was greasy blonde and about shoulder length. I remember he tore my clothes, and beat me if I spoke. His teeth were a grimy blackish brown, and I only saw them when he smiled as he hit me. I knew yelling for help would be useless. People must be used to hearing screams of help here. The man was strong, and seemed stronger for my body was weak from the small, stale portions of food. Then he did what I thought would never happen to me… only whores and unrespectable women had this happen to them… he opened my legs and raped me.
And he was only the first.
Four more came, one per night. The rest were so drunk they could barely stand, but none the less they were all violent. The night after the last violent man came, my opportunity came for escape. A man came in with dark eyes, long dreadlocks, and a handsome face. I knew better than to hope that the handsome ones would help me by then. But this man was different. His eyes- I cant explain, they seemed sober, and… kind. The fist kind eyes since I arrived in Tortuga. And he did something none of the others had done: he smiled. Not a cruel smile like the violent men, but a true, genuine, kind smile. And I remember his voice. It was deep, but it had ups and downs in pitch, almost as if he were singing.
"'Ello, love!" He grinned, showing several gold teeth, winking at me with the pale moonlight from the small barred window. Then the fascinating man frowned. I'm sure he saw me shaking. When he spoke the next time, it was soft and comforting; how you would talk to a caged animal.
I was caged.
"Easy, love. 'S'all right. I'm not gonna hurcha' an' I'm not gonna rape yer either. I don't sleep with the women here. I'm going to help you." I relaxed and realized in instinct I had backed myself in the corner. "What's yer name, lass?" he said, eyes softening with each passing moment.
"Anna Maria."
I tensed, not knowing what would come next. I stayed where I was, crouched on the corner of my cot, still pressed in the corner draped with spider webs. I tensed again as he took another step forward, then another. He was approaching my cot. He touched me on a bruised shoulder. I winced. His hands were strong, and rough like sandpaper.
But he was gentle.
He drew back his hand as I winced, and looked at my face. His eyes seemed to ask my permission to touch me agian. I nodded timidly, and he gently pulled the shoulder off of what was left of my gown and hissed with a sharp intake of breath and tutted in pity at my battered body. He began to pull off the rest of my silk scrap of fabric they gave me for clothing, and I drew back from his gentle hands, and I looked into his eyes. I saw no lust as I had with the others. I saw only concern and kindness. I had made up my mind. I wouldn't resist to this man, even if he tried to rape me now. He showed me something none of the others had: concern, gentleness, and respect.
He was different.
Okay. I know it's short, but it's a trial thing. If I get one review, I'll update as soon as I can… but no reviews, no updates. Please review, even if it is to tell me that it's all crap- its fine. I am not offended. Please review!
Ta,
Sparrow's Someone
