5. Finding a Farmer

The man moved closer to Rose, bundling up the skirt of her dress and her slip, pulling them higher and stroking her thigh roughly.

This could not happen, it was not right! She looked around in desperation. Was there nobody who could help? But not many were nearby at this hour, and even if she could manage to get the attention of the few sailors she saw on other boats, she was not sure it would help. What if they decided to side with her captor?

Her mind was working busily. She thought of kneeing him in his groin, but then he would likely shoot her, and that was also why she could not just run away or jump overboard. Could she manage to take the gun from him? No, that would probably end with her being shot as well.

"Lovely." He was touching her drawers.

She had to try the knee. Gathering her courage, Rose had almost raised her leg to proceed with the attack when she caught sight of three people running silently up the jetty: the little boy, Elizabeth and Jack Sparrow. She had never seen a more welcome sight in her life.

The man must not discover them; if he knew aid was on the way, he might shoot them – or her, for that matter. She must distract him somehow.

"Oh... yes..." she murmured in what she hoped was a seductive voice. She licked her lips.

The man's eyes were drawn to them. "You like that, don't you, poppet." He moved in to kiss her and she met him, desperately trying not to make a disgusted sound as she tasted the foul chewing tobacco on his mouth. His rough beard scratched her chin and his lips were brutally hard, nearly smothering her.

She pretended to caress his shoulder and trailed her fingers slowly down his arm, the one holding the gun. She could not keep up the pretense of liking the kiss much longer, fearing she would throw up at any moment, and it was hard to breathe with his tongue nearly down her throat.

The others had arrived, but when they stepped into the boat it tilted slightly and began to rock. The pirate instantly turned towards them, moving his gun their way.

Rose grabbed his arm and heaved down with all her might. Before he could shake her off, Elizabeth had her dagger pointing at his gut and Jack his sword against his throat.

"Back off, bilge rat," Elizabeth hissed. "And drop that pistol."

The man looked from Elizabeth to Jack and back again, assessing the situation. Then Rose felt his arm relax and the gun fell to the deck with a dull thud. Jack quickly kicked it out of range.

"All right, all right. Can't a man have some fun? She liked it. Didn't you, poppet?"

Rose glared at him, trying to think of a suitably cutting reply. Then she remembered something. Hawk down… get some body to it…

"Well, mister, here is my answer to that." She hawked, chewed, and spit him right in the eye.

Jack looked impressed. "You spit like a man, miss Dawson!"

She smiled at him, trying to hide the sudden weakness in her legs and the tremor in her hands.

"I'm fairly sure that means no," said Elizabeth. "Now, leave this boat before I accidentally poke a hole in your belly."

The thug obeyed, but Rose did not like the dark look he gave them before walking away on the jetty. Would he return to finish what he started? Perhaps bringing his friends?

That thought had Rose's legs buckle and she was about to stumble when Elizabeth caught her.

"So sorry about that, miss Dawson," she said sympathetically. "We never should have left you alone."

"Please, call me Rose. And I'm fine, really. Nothing happened." But she was not fine. She could still feel the vile taste of the man's mouth, and her skin felt tainted where he had touched it.

"I can guard the boat next time," said the boy.

Rose had completely forgotten about him. She pulled up the purse Bill had given her and counted out ten silver coins, closing the boy's small hand around them. He gaped like he could not quite believe what he saw.

"Thank you for running after help… Tom, was it? You were very brave, Tom."

"Thank you miss!" The boy grinned broadly.

"Take that home now before someone robs you," Rose advised. She did not trust this town anymore.

The boy trotted off and Rose again tucked her purse into her corset. Too late she remembered Bill's warning not to show Jack Sparrow she had that money, and glancing at him she noticed he was observing her bosom with a calculating look. She needed to find another hiding place.

Seeing as Rose was safe, Elizabeth and Jack began to unpack their purchases. There was a distinct lack of black pigs and silver swords among those.

"I got the address to a pig farmer," said Elizabeth. "As for the sword, we looked everywhere with no success, but we learned there is a trader who sells all sorts of odd weapons. Unfortunately he was in Havana doing business right now and they did not expect him back for another week or two, so we might have to wait for his return."

"But we bought rum." Jack smirked and pointed at a donkey cart laden with crates that was slowly approaching their boat.

"Jack claims he needs ten boxes for the sacrifice to summon Calypso." Elizabeth looked like she doubted the truth of that, and Rose did too.

The pirate proved their suspicion right when the first thing he did after the cart had been unloaded was to crack a crate open, uncork one of the bottles inside and drink nearly a quarter of it.

Elizabeth shook her head at him and went back to unpacking the clothes she had bought, pressing a large bundle into his arms.

"I have clothes for you as well," she said to Rose.

"Really? How sweet of you to think of me!"

"Don't mention it. I hope they fit. I had to guess the size, but I think you and I are almost the same height."

Elizabeth had chosen two dresses and two sets of male clothes. The latter, she explained, were completely unsuitable for women to be seen wearing, but she herself preferred them when working on the boat and she had figured Rose might as well. There were also two changes of underwear and a pair of knee-high boots similar to those she and Jack wore. Best of all, Elizabeth had bought her a straw hat, a flat, wide one decorated with silk flowers.

Rose went below deck to change directly, still feeling dirty after what she had experienced. Choosing one of the dresses, she put it on with some struggle. How she missed her maid!

The dress was long and made of blue cotton with a white floral pattern and long lace cuffs. It looked a little silly with a row of tiny ribbon bows and lace all the way down the front, but that was the fashion here, and at least it fit her well even though she felt slightly exposed with the low cut front.

She liked the boots, which were black with big brass buckles. They were a bit too large because they were made for men, but endlessly better than stumbling around in her pumps.

Donning the hat, she returned to the others. To her surprise they had moved some way out in the bay while she was busy.

"I figured you would feel safer tonight if we anchored away from the town," said Elizabeth.

Rose gave her a grateful smile; the other woman was proving to be both thoughtful and kind.

While Jack busied himself with emptying his bottle, Elizabeth prepared an evening meal consisting of a dark, fresh bread, cold meat and cheese that she had bought in Tortuga earlier. There were no vegetables in sight, and the meat was too salty for Rose's taste, but she ate heartily anyway. The smell of food had made her realize she had not eaten anything since her meager breakfast aboard the Dutchman, and she was ravenous.

Elizabeth poured a generous amount of port wine for her; nobody drank water in this time, it would seem. Since she was very thirsty Rose had several glasses, and soon Jack was not the only one who swayed on his feet.

"Can't you tell me about how you became king?" Rose swallowed her last piece of bread.

Elizabeth readily agreed, starting with how she had inherited one of the pieces of eight needed to be counted as a pirate lord, and then thanks to Jack won the vote among the Brethren to become their king. That led to their release of Calypso and the battle against the East India Trading Company, during which she married Will in the middle of the fight. Soon after, he died and was resurrected as Captain of the Flying Dutchman. Since then they had only met once – twice, if she counted her brief visit to the Dutchman earlier that day.

"This is such a sad story," sniffed Rose and hugged Elizabeth. Alcohol tended to make her sentimental.

"It is," agreed the other, hugging her tightly back.

"Why don't we have a group hug?" suggested Jack and moved closer, bringing a cloud of rum vapor with him.

Rose and Elizabeth gave him a stern look each, and he wisely retreated, hugging his bottle instead. "Be that way then," he grumbled.

The rest of the evening Rose and Elizabeth spent talking pleasantly. Elizabeth told of her growing up in Port Royal as the governor's daughter, and Rose shared her own life story, complete with her horrible engagement to Caledon Hockley and the Titanic disaster. She left out everything concerning her romance with Jack Dawson, however. That was still too fresh. She did not have the energy to talk about him yet.

Jack Sparrow meanwhile kept mostly silent and to himself, but it was clear he listened, and Rose often felt his eyes on her. The longer the evening went, the harder she found it to ignore him. Was he interested in her? Or thinking about how he could best steal her diamond and her money?

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

For the second time in a few hours, Rose woke up finding a man leaning over her. She stared dizzily up into a pair of black eyes, illuminated by a lantern. She tensed as she felt him touching her cleavage.

"Mr Sparrow! How dare you," she hissed, glancing left to where Elizabeth still slept soundly, anxious not to wake the other.

Jack's hand darted away. At least he had the decency to look guilty.

"Explain yourself," she demanded.

"I was just…" He broke off, obviously at loss for a suitable lie.

"Were you trying to feel me up while I slept and couldn't protest? Disgusting. You're no better than that scumbag before."

"Not at all." The corner of his lips turned up slightly. "I prefer my women awake." He climbed back into his hammock, stretching out languidly. "I would not deprive you of being aware, should I ever benefit you with the pleasure of my touch."

That half-smile and his suggestive undertones gave Rose a funny feeling in her stomach. Perhaps it was the foreign food or all the wine, for surely she could not feel anything for this drunkard pirate? So soon after her Jack's death too. Impossible. She smothered all inappropriate thoughts of pleasurable touching.

"What were you doing then?" she asked.

"Making sure the valuables were kept safe. The diamond. And that purse. I'm armed and you're not – I should be the one guarding them, savvy?"

"I'd say they are safer with me." He probably would spend every penny on rum, and the Heart as well. She knew she should have hidden them somewhere else, but with all the drinking and talking she had forgotten.

"If you say so." He shrugged and extinguished the lantern, leaving them in pitch darkness again.

Rose frowned to herself; his casual tone had not fooled her. She really must find a new hiding place.

Soon the pirate's breathing became even, but Rose found it much harder to fall back asleep now that the effects of the alcohol had worn off. The area under deck was cramped, the air hot and stale, and even though her rope hammock was cozy to lie in she felt like she might fall off it whenever the boat rolled.

In addition, she worried about her future. The prospect of going to the afterlife once they had summoned Calypso did not sit well with her, but she also worried about staying in this world where she did not belong, and where pirates took any liberties with her just because she was a woman.

.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.

Rose must have dozed off eventually, because suddenly daylight was streaming down through the open hatch and seagulls cried somewhere nearby. She felt stiff after sleeping with her clothes on, and all the salty food and port wine yesterday had given her a nasty headache. Oh, how she missed water. And coffee!

Since she was alone below deck, Rose quickly changed into the comfortable menswear Elizabeth had provided. It felt wonderful to finally take off her corset, even though she wondered how she would ever get it back on when she wanted to wear a dress again. How did Elizabeth do it? Or were the eighteenth century corsets easier to lace?

Since her boots were a little too big, Rose cleverly hid the Heart of the Ocean in the toe of one of them and her purse in the other, before she went up on deck to join the others.

It felt a little odd to wear trousers in front of a man, but Jack was either used to it or pretended not to care.

Breakfast consisted of the same fare as yesterday, and Rose got slightly sick just by the smell of the ruby liquid that Elizabeth again poured her, but once she had downed a glass she felt a little better.

Jack had only rum for breakfast. How did he manage to stay so fit, on such an unhealthy diet?

After eating and drinking her fill, Rose desperately needed to pee, which was impossible to manage privately on such a small boat. There was no bathroom, obviously, instead Elizabeth had shown her how she could sit on the railing and pee, covering herself with her dress. That had been alright yesterday in the protection of darkness, but now in bright daylight? With other ships nearby too, and Jack…? There was no avoiding it however, and thankfully Jack was tactful enough to turn his back once he saw what she was about to do.

Today they were going to visit the pig farmer Elizabeth had found out about. He lived on the other side of the bay, and sailing there did not take long. This time all three of them went ashore, leaving the Barnacle to fend for herself. The risk that someone would steal her was not very high this far from the city.

Finding the farm was easy, they just had to follow the smell. The place would have been neat, quaint even, if not for the muddy pens full of black pigs and piglets. It consisted of a stable and an outhouse built at an angle from a red cottage with pink geraniums in the windows, the latter surrounded by flower beds, apple trees and a well tended kitchen garden. A plump man with long, graying sideburns was bent over one of the flower beds, pulling out weeds and throwing them into a large wicker basket.

As they came near he rose with a groan, touching his back, but as he turned towards them a wide grin cleaved his homely face.

"Mother's love, if it isn't Jack! And Elizabeth!"

"Pig farming, really?" Jack shook his head in feigned sadness. "I would have thought better of you!"

A/N:

It seems the farmer is familiar… who could he be? :)

If you're curious about Rose's dresses and what male clothes looked like back then, you can google "18th century fashion". The boots she hid her treasures in look like those worn by Puss in Boots. :)

Thanks for all the feedback so far!