Disclaimer: I own nothing. Dur.
Author's Notes: Well. Lots of Jack this time 'round. I added a wee bit of drama here and there (from the suggestion of my dear cousin Lizzy). Yes, I realize some of it's not in the movie--but Elizabeth was a girl, and William's a boy. That changes things, yes?
The Way the Wind Blows
By: MJ
Chapter Three
I Don't Need Help From the Likes of You
The sun rose on her face, the streams of light twinkling on her dirtied, porcelain-like skin. Dried blood was caked onto the edge of her hairline from the cut she suffered when she fell the night before. She seemed so peaceful when she slept, until her face scrunched up. She closed her eyes tightly, wincing from the sudden pain as she regained consciousness. "Ouch," she whispered softly, a delicate hand coming to her forehead. She gingerly touched the area were she had been cut, and winced again.
She sat up, and blinked from the sudden sunlight. It took Elizabeth Swann a moment before everything came back to her in one, nauseating wave of flashbacks. The pirates, Will, the dagger, she killed someone, everything… everything all at once was enough to make her want to vomit from the confusion, when it hit her again.
Will was gone.
She stood up quickly, gained her composure, and looked around. She saw the dagger Will had given her stuck in the ground. She ran over, pulled it from the dirt road like a carrot out of a garden, and placed it in the folds of her skirt. She went her way, her mind determined on what to do.
She found the governess under the shade of a small, opened pavilion, a bit away from the fort (which was getting reconstructed after the previous day's battle). Commodore Norrington was with her, peering over a large map, and Murtogg and Mullroy were guarding them from the sides.
She nearly ran to be in front of them, her face firm with determination and fear. "Will's gone," she said suddenly, causing both to turn and look at her. "I watched them take him away… He's gone."
"We know," Norrington said, rolling his eyes before turning back to the map.
"Aren't you going to do something?" She asked, almost hysterically.
"What's to be done, hmm? What do you suggest?" The governess shrieked right back at Elizabeth. She dabbed the bottom of her eyes with a handkerchief. "My William is gone, and the bastards didn't even leave a trace!"
"We're organizing a search party, trying to figure out a place to start, so if you please, Miss Swann, see yourself out?" Norrington said, almost with a condescending air.
"That's not good enough!" Elizabeth huffed, pushing the compass away from Norrington. She bent down low so that he was looking at her face. "By the time you find him, he'll be dead."
"What do you suggest, Miss Swann? You're not in the military, and I highly doubt you have any training at sea, now is not the time for your rash actions," Norrington sneered as he bent down to pick up his compass.
"That—that Jack Sparrow," Mullroy spoke up suddenly. Norrington arched an eyebrow. "He—he said something about the Black Pearl."
"Mentioned it, really," Murtogg defended, as Norrington turned to look at him. Elizabeth smiled.
"Ask him! Ask him where it docks—"
"No, no… The jail was raided last night and Sparrow was left in his cell. They are obviously not allies."
"So, that's it, then?"
"Miss Swann," Norrington said, now completely aggravated with her. He walked around the table, and grabbed her arm, escorting her (harshly) from the pavilion, "I suggest that you do what you do best; cook and clean. Leave this to myself, and the rest of the King's military." He leaned in closer and whispered sharply in her ear. "Don't doubt that Annette hasn't already come forward with her own concerns and feelings for William. I don't need some servant girl at my heels about him as well…" The last thing he said to her made her insides boil. "Learn your place."
Line BreakThe door to the jail opened, and Elizabeth quickly ran down the stairs, a look of disgust on her face. "The thing's I'll do for lo--" she caught herself, reassuring herself that she didn't love William. She was just… Oh, whom was she kidding?
Her stomach turned into knots as the guard called down flirtatiously, "But, honey—what about that kiss you promised me?" She shuddered, and walked towards the barred cells. "Jack… Jack Sparrow?" She called tentatively.
"Aye, luv?" She heard a few cells away. She moved towards the cell and found the pirate lying on the ground. "Wha' can I do fer ye today?"
"Do you know of that ship? The… The Black Pearl?"
"I've heard of it."
Elizabeth wrung her hands uneasily, searching for the right question. "Where does it make berth?"
"Where does it--? What—haven't you heard the stories?" When she shook her head as a "no", he continued, "Captain Barbossa," he started, almost spitting the name as he said it, "and his crew of miscreants sail from the dreaded Isla de Muerta, an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is."
"Oh, c'mon, Sparrow—the ship is real enough, therefore it's anchorage must be a real place—where is it?"
Jack took in her looks for a moment, before he turned to his nails. He chewed on his index finger's nail before he looked up at her again. "Why ask me?"
She took in a deep, impatient breath before she let it out, frustrated. "Because you're a pirate."
"And ye want to turn pirate yerself, is that it? Sorry. Me ship don't take little girls onto me crew."
"Remember, Sparrow, you don't have a crew, nor a ship, so let's forget that little notion," she said heatedly, getting rather flustered with his constant sly remarks. "They took William."
"Oh, so they took your strapping young lad, eh? Well, if you're tending to brave all, hasten to his rescue, and so win his heart, you'll have to do it alone, lass, I see no profit in it for me."
"I could get you out of here, you know."
"By sleeping with the guard or somefink? That may take a wee bit longer than you'd like," he winked, smiling as she visibly gagged.
"Be quiet," she said, turning around. "Where are the keys?"
"A little dog 'as 'em. 'E ran off though, so, once again, good luck," Jack said, pointing in the direction as to where the dog had run off. She gave him a questioning look, and moved towards the hidden stairwell. Indeed, underneath the set of stairs, was a small, scruffy dog, with a ring of keys in his mouth. She smiled sweetly as the dog jerked his head up towards her.
She took out of her apron pocket, a small cornmeal biscuit. She held it out to the dog, all the while calling out sweet things to it.
"It won't move, ye know…" Jack stopped as the dog was suddenly at Elizabeth's side, eating out of the palm of her hand. She glanced at him with a very arrogant look, while shaking the keys in her free hand. The dog ran back to his place under the stairs, and Elizabeth was, once again, standing in front of Jack's cell.
"I see you like to underestimate what I can and can't do, Sparrow," Elizabeth said.
"'ave ye done this before, lass?" Jack asked suspiciously, looking her up and down again. She gave him an indifferent look. He smirked, "What be yer name?"
"Elizabeth Swann."
"Ah… Yer parent's being--?"
"What does it matter to you anyway?" She asked quietly, her eyes darting towards the floor, still rather sensitive about her parents. "They died when I was rather young… I don't remember them."
"Orphaned?"
"Smart man," Elizabeth replied sarcastically. "All I had was a medallion necklace that I lost a long time ago. Not even their names," she said. "Just a bloody medallion."
Jack grinned, having heard what he needed to hear. "Well, lass, I've changed me mind. If ye spring me from this cell, I swear on pain of death that I will take you to the Black Pearl and your bonny lass. Do we have an accord?"
She looked at his extended hand, "Agreed." She reached through the bars and shook it.
"Good. Now get me out of here." She turned the key in the lock, and opened the door.
"Hurry up—the guard said he would only give me a few minutes, and I'm sure he must've heard that horrible shriek," she commented, as the door shrieked in it's rusty hinges. Jack grinned.
"Not without me effects."
Line Break"Cap'n says we're to give ye somefink to eat," Pintel said, as he and Ragetti walked down the stairs. "But we're to have a wee bit of fun, as well."
Will didn't even bother to look upwards. His left eye was black and swollen, after having been punched when asked for information he didn't know, and therefore couldn't share. He believed that at least two of his ribs were broken, if not more, from more blows after he tried again and again to tell them that he wasn't William Swann—that they had the wrong person. He groaned, aching terribly from the last beat-up session, and moved as far away from the door of the cell as he possibly could.
"C'mon, now, William," Pintel mocked, "we wouldn't be pirates if we were merciful, would we?" Ragetti laughed, and Pintel elbowed him.
"I've got nothing to say." Will said, in a dangerously quiet tone of voice. Pintel rolled his eyes.
"Well, then, I guess ye won't be eatin' t'day!" And with that, they left him alone.
He leaned helplessly against the bars of the cell, feeling sick to his stomach. Obviously they knew that he was what they wanted; why did they have to keep asking him such questions? Torturing in such a way?
"Lad!" A voice called, and Will turned, looking for the source. The captain himself was coming down the hatch, his heavy boots thudding loudly onto the stairs. "I 'ear yer not in the mood ter cooperate wit' me crew."
"Aye," Will retorted. "I have nothing to say."
"Well, I do, so sit back an' listen fer a moment." Captain Hector Barbossa said, growling afterwards, with an arrogant grin on his face. His monkey screeched from the hatch, and ran down to his master. He jumped, landing on the man's shoulder. He shrieked at Will again, before pulling out the medallion. "D'ye have any idea what this is?" Will rolled his eyes.
"It's a pirate's medallion."
"This is Aztec gold, one of 882 identical pieces they delivered in a stone chest to Cortez himself. Blood money paid to stem the slaughter he wreaked upon them with his armies. But the greed of Cortez was insatiable. So the heathen gods placed upon the gold a terrible curse. Any mortal that removes but a single piece from that stone chest shall be punished for eternity."
"I do believe you and your crew have had a bit too much rum," Will said impatiently, rolling his eyes to show that he didn't believe Barbossa. "But I'm sure that ghost story would scare someone… Perhaps a ten-year-old boy."
"Aye. That's exactly what I thought when we were first told the tale—a bloody ghost story passed from one drunkard to the next." He said, before he went off again, his turning his head so he was vacantly staring at the mast-beam in front of him. "Buried on an Island of Dead what cannot be found except for those who know where it is. Find it, we did. There be the chest. Inside be the gold. And we took 'em all. We spent 'em and traded 'em and frittered 'em away on drink and food and pleasurable company. The more we gave 'em away, the more we came to realize, the drink would not satisfy, food turned to ash in our mouths, and all the pleasurable company in the world could not slake our lust. We are cursed men, Mister Swann. Compelled by greed, we were, but now we are consumed by it. There is one way we can end our curse. All the scattered pieces of the Aztec gold must be restored and the blood repaid. Thanks to ye, we have the final piece."
"And the blood to be repaid?" Will asked uneasily, his stomach settling in knots as he watched moonlight filter in from the side.
"That's why we're not killing you. Yet," he opened up the cell, and threw Will an apple. "Apple?" The moonlight glittered on his face, showing Will his undead skeleton corpse. His eyes widened, as Barbossa quickly became his undead form. His ribs showed through as he bit the cork off of a bottle of wine. He began to chug the liquid, which (quite literally, mind you) went right through him, ending in a puddle on the floor.
"Afraid of ghost stories yet? Ye should be; yer in one!" He laughed maniacally, as did his monkey, as he made his way back up the stairs, and out of the brig.
Line Break"So, now what do you suppose we do?" Elizabeth hissed to Jack as they stood under the Port Royal docks, the water coming up to Elizabeth's waist—her wool skirt growing heavier by the second. "Because this is extremely uncomfortable."
Jack, who was also waist-deep in water, grinned back at her, readjusting his tri-cornered hat (which kept getting hit by the lower beams of the docks). "Well, ye look ter be too small to help me take over a ship, and I doubt ye could do anythin' remotely useful once we had said ship… So we're going to stowaway."
"So… Tell me again why we have to be under here."
"I'm a fugitive, luv. D'ye honestly think I'd just be able to waltz onto one of these 'ere ships? Didn't think so." He turned back, seeing his opportunity. "Grab the rope—let's go." He dove under the water, leaving Elizabeth with no choice but to follow him.
Now, in the time she had been an orphan, Elizabeth had picked up on a few things. First, she knew how to wriggle around the people in town. She was an amazing pickpocket, able to get into anyone's pocket, and she knew how to swim. Which, if you think about it, would be handy, if the person you just stole from chased you to the sea.
The sea was something else Elizabeth was drawn to. It's amazing colors, the way it moved; everything about it mesmerized her. The sea, not her pick pocketing, was what drew her to learn how to swim.
So, she sort of smiled when she passed Jack Sparrow under water, and grinned even more at the surprised look on his face. He dove into the water and expected her to what? Get out and walk on it? She came up for air just as he did, and she handed him the rope.
"Learn more about ye every second, luv." He said, smiling as he made the rope into a makeshift lasso-like thing. He swung it upwards, and when the looped end hooked onto a lamp outside of the captain's cabin, or so he presumed, he pulled onto it, the knot tightening enough that they should be able to climb upwards. "Lady's first," he gestured.
She raised an eyebrow, before rolling her eyes. She grabbed onto the rope, and began her climb. Suddenly, she stopped, and looked downwards at Jack. "Excuse me," she said, and he looked up at her.
"Just givin' ye a boost," he said, taking his hand off of her backside. He took a few strokes backwards, spacing himself from her. "Don't come cryin' ter me if'n ye fall."
"I'll be fine, Sparrow. Not that it's any of your concern." She grunted, climbing up the side of the ship. Once she landed on the deck, she took a second to look around and take in her surroundings. No one was on board. Yet.
She heard some rather odd grunting and gurgling noises behind her, and she turned around to see Jack Sparrow having a good old time climbing up the rope. It seemed that his boots, wet from the water, were sliding off the boat, making it hard for him to get proper footing. "Need help?" She called, and he scoffed.
"Not from the likes of you," he muttered under his breath. He was finally able to get his footing on the boat long enough to begin his climb. A few moments later, he was right next to her. She was about to open her mouth with another sarcastic comment, when he grabbed her arm and pulled her quickly down the stairs, and through a hatch.
She forgot all about her protests when they were walking down the steps, as she realized where she was, and that there may, in fact, be people there. People who wouldn't take too kindly to stowaways. He pulled her down into what she came to know as the cargo hold; a mess of barrels, boxes, and crates. He let go of her once they were there, and staggered off into the maze the cargo had created. She was about to follow him when she saw a wardrobe not too far away. A smile quirked onto her face, and she moved towards it. She opened the doors and took an intake of breath.
The dresses inside were beautiful—but not exactly practical for what she figured she'd be doing. She pushed them aside, and took out a pair of brown britches. She pulled off her woolen skirt, and slipped on the pants. Next, she removed her simple black slippers, and put on a pair of boots she found at the bottom. They were two sizes too large, but she stuffed her slippers in first, and they fit rather nicely. Will's dagger went into the fold of her right boot for safekeeping.
Once pleased with her new clothing, she shut the wardrobe and went looking for Sparrow. She heard him first, tearing away at a barrel, in a deep corner of the cargo hold. He was jabbing his sword into it, obviously trying to break the wood and get whatever was inside.
That's when she saw that it was marked "RUM" on the side, in large, black letters. She rolled her eyes and sat a little bit away. He looked up at her, smirked, and went back to his digging.
"Couldn't find a regular bottle?" She asked, and he stopped and glared.
"All right, missy, there is a thing or two tha' we have to go over, if'n I'm to help ye get yer strappin' young lad," he said, dropping his sword. He folded his arms over his chest. "Firs' off, there is to be none of this 'Sparrow'. I'm Cap'n Jack Sparrow, and shall be called such… savvy? Second… Ye need to drop the sarcasm, luv, it's really not that attractive. And third—ye don't dare come between me," he gestured obnoxiously to himself, "an' me rum," he gestured to the barrel, and narrowed his eyes, "savvy?"
"Savvy."
I be typing up the fourth chapter while ya'll read this, because I realized how short this one is. I hope to have the next one up by this afternoon.