Alright, here it be; ye olde Naval Ball. This is, in fact, only half of the chapter – it's really long, so I decided to be extremely dastardly and leave you with a cliff-hanger, amplified by the fact I won't be able to update tomorrow. I am so devious sometimes I even scare myself.
If you find dialogue boring (I know I do), just cut to about half-way down this chapter. I'm trying to make interesting things happen at the naval ball, but to be frank – it's difficult. There's not much to work with, with the fact upper-class society is so concerned with manners and all, and if Jack, Will or Alex do anything too drastic, they'll be hung, drawn and quartered in the blink of an eye, which would definitely shorten this story's length dramatically:)
"Ugh." Alex said as she sat down heavily at the banquet table, her skirts puffing up and billowing out like sails in a wind. Hidden by the lavish table arrangements and decorations, she raised a hand to her head and rubbed it darkly. She dearly wished she could slip her feet out of her tight buckled boots, but that was the epitome of savagery and tempted as she was, she was going for the image of refined lady about to wed, not uneducated street slummer.
"Excuse me Miss; would you care to dance?" Asked an eagre officer of about 70 years of age, with stained teeth and big ears.
"Oh God, not again." Alex muttered. It was then that she saw Will steal by, also intent on becoming speedily invisible.
"My sincerest apologies, my good sir, but I promised this kind gentleman a dance first." Alex said relieved, grabbing Will by his forearm and turning him into an impromptu waltz. Dancing with Will was certainly the lesser of the two evils. Will looked shocked at being roughly handled by a young woman, until he realised who it was. "Dance, fool, or do a dance with the devil." She hissed. Will abruptly twirled her. Alex noted the old officer looking distinctly put out, but he reluctantly moved on.
"Praise the Heavens, he's shoved off." Alex sighed as Will spun her back to him hesitantly. Will knew how to waltz - his mother had taught him when he was a small boy (albeit he was slightly rusty now, after years of not practising) - but he was worried he'd slip up and embarrass Alex, who was dancing a lot more confidently than himself.
"Well, you're considerably more interesting and enjoyable company than my previous partner." Will divulged, finally gaining his voice back. He spoke in an exaggeratedly cultured and snobbish voice, making fun of all the other upper-class-men and women in the room.
"I should hope so." Alex replied in a similar voice, catching on and playing the game with Will. She sourly eyed the women in the room that were giving her an evil eye, envious of the way she had commandeered Will and was waltzing so effortlessly around the room. "Good job with the acting too – even I can't believe you call a pirate ship home. And you can even waltz. I'm impressed."
"Aren't you going to say that I'm by far the best company you've had all night?" Will asked in a falsely petulant voice, also noting the grumpy glances he was gaining from all the hopeful men in the room, annoyed he was monopolising Alex.
"I could say that." Alex replied with a cheeky grin. "But I'd be lying, wouldn't I?"
"What?" Will replied, pretending to be deeply shocked and hurt. "Now who could possibly be as devilishly handsome as me, possess an intellect as sharp as mine, a repertoire as vast as mine and charm and chivalry by the bounds?" He asked playfully. Alex raised an eyebrow and pretended to think. "I'd say… everyone I know and will ever know, bar Big Ears Skinly over there." Will just laughed as they waltzed passed the unfortunate man.
"Now how would you be if I said I found every other girl in this room far more interesting, witty and attractive than you?" Will asked, turning Alex away from a young man that Will thought looked like a bit of a scoundrel. Then again, Will thought every young man in the room looking at Alex seemed to be a scoundrel.
"Why, I'd probably have to burst into tears and sob myself stupid for days on end." Alex replied, grinning.
"Well, I'll just not have to upset you." Will said mock-seriously. "I was never good at telling lies anyway." Alex looked up at him quickly, a small frown on her face and a question mark in her deep blue eyes. Not that she had far to look, being so tall in her heeled boots. She was taller than average regardless, but tonight she towered over some of the older, stockier men.
"Got me." She laughed, rolling her eyes. Will was about to open his mouth to clarify the issue, but Alex suddenly winced and stumbled slightly.
"I think I have danced with every blasted person in this room, three times over." She muttered darkly. "And these boots are the worse form of torture ever invented."
"I wish I could help with that, but I'm a blacksmith, not a cobbler."
"It's not your fault." Alex replied crossly, limping slightly on one foot. "You're not the one that insisted that I attend this damned ball. Speaking of the devil, where is Jack?"
"Terrorising some poor innocent dame no doubt." Will replied sardonically.
"Indeed. Must be a harrowing experience for them both." Alex stated in sarcastic agreement, "Speaking of terrible experiences, am I boring you?" She asked. Will was surprised (who in their right mind would think of Alex as boring?), but recovered.
"Something terrible." He replied, grinning crookedly at her. She grinned crookedly back.
"Good." She replied bluntly. "If I have to suffer these trials of one thousand torturous deaths, so do you."
"Exactly why are you so opposed to this night?"
"You really want to know? You want to get me started?" Alex replied jokingly, until she realised he was serious. She dropped her sophisticated accent and continued on in a lower voice. "Do you really regard this infinite politeness as entertaining? Is it your idea of a good time to speak endless words, meaningless chatter and make small talk, while nothing of importance is said? And then this mindless pacing and twirling…" Alex broke off and Will was surprised. Will had been to a few dances in his time, when he could get time off his apprenticeship, but Alex seemed to be well versed and thoroughly annoyedwith these kinds of events.
"What would interest you?" Will asked. He was fascinatedwith what Alex had to say, because in the several short hours he'd been on the naval cutter, he already knew exactly what she meant. When he had danced with the endless giggling maidens, he could barelypry their names out of them, let alone any kind of meaningful conversation from their rosy lips. They trusted their expressions to belie what their voices would not, but the only communication Will managed to pick up was from their eyes, which seemed to laugh at him.
"What about the thrill of peasant Irish dancing? The meaning of African chant with tribal drums? What satisfaction do you get from endless waltzing and guarded tongues?" Alex lamented. Will looked at her and noticed the spark that was dancing in her eyes and the flush of her cheeks. She then lowered her gaze in embarrassment. "That's probably why women aren't meant to say what they think – so they don't look like fools.
"Fools are the type who enjoy these occasions." Will whispered, but he was doing some serious thinking. The warm reception they got on the naval cutter, similar to that of almost royalty… Will and Jack had dismissed it, assuming that the naval officers were celebrating Alex's up-coming (and non-existent) wedding, but perhaps there was something more than that… like the way she knew all the etiquette and behaviour required at the ball, when Will had no idea how anything worked. Then again, Jack seemed quite at equally at ease amongst this society as with his crew on the Black Pearl, so perhaps it was just Will feeling awkward and out of his element.
"Have you been to many of these before?" He finally questioned.
"Upper-class banquets and dinners?" Alex clarified. "I get dressed up like this all the time - except, unlike tonight - usually when I leave, the men are a bit light-on their valuables; fob-watches, jewelled rings and such-like."She grinned up at him, looking into his deep brown eyes. She glanced away and changed her tack. She continued softly; sadly, "How many little girls did you know that wanted to grow up being a noble lady? How many starving, dirty, peasant girls wished that with every fibre of their being that they owned pretty dresses, attended every ball, had servants and lavish foods, marry some pompous, verbally and emotionally constipated navy lieutenant, live unhappily ever after?"
Will continued waltzing with Alex slowly around the room, silent, while Alex gathered her thoughts and composure. If Will wanted to investigate this matter, he'd have to tread carefully. Alex was stubborn and impetuous, it was true, but she could also be flighty, and the topic of the upper-class seemed to be an open wound of Alex's heart.
Will finally broke the silence, "Alex?"
"Mmm," she replied, her head buried into his velvety-soft shoulder. Some of her hair was tickling his nose - her being nearly as tall as him - and Will resisted the urge to stop talking and just continue breathing in her scent of spices and flowers. He hadn't really wanted the moment to end, especially as it was the first time sincehe had set foot on the naval ship thathe had felt at ease, but he needed to know the real story behind Alex's ship jumping. He had originally thought her a simple thief and pick-pocket, but it seemed she had - at one point or another in her life - been much more than that. She can't have always lived her life on the streets, surely?
"Alex, just before, were you speaking from experience?" He felt Alex stiffen slightly in his arms, and push away from him a little, tipping her head up slightly to meet his eyes.
"I - "
" - Excuse me, but may I have the pleasure of dancing with this charming young lady?" Came the heavily accented voice from a swathe, handsome black-haired version of Adonis. Alex quickly closed her mouth, a flush spreading over her pale cheeks. Will was about to say he bloody well could not, but Alex rolled her eyes and grimaced at Will, then curtsied slightly to the foreign interceptor.
"Gladly." Alex replied quickly, smiling insipidly. It was only later that Will realised Alex was saving him from a very messy scene. Refusing to allow your partner to dance with another requester could develop into a gentleman's duel. Which usually ended in a large bullet hole, a lot of pain and- onoccasion -death. But perhaps it was for another reason? Maybe she was using it as an excuse not to evade his question…
"Vice-Admiral Stone." Vice Admiral Stone introduced himself to Alex in a voice that was noticeably different from what it had been earlier that day. Will strongly suspected he was laying the accent on thick to make himself sound a lot more mysterious and exotic to appeal to the ladies. The Vice smiled widely, one of his teeth glinting in the candle-light. Will noticed in surprise that it was inlaid with a gleaming diamond. The Vice Admiral waited for Alex's reply, but there was none forthcoming.
"And what may I address you as?" He finally put forward.
"Alexandria." Alex replied simply, and Will realised he had never heard her full name before.
Will allowed himself to be led away to dance by a voluptuous red-head. By the end of the night, he'd come to wish she'd lured him off earlier. As soon as Will glanced into her jade eyes the first time, he forgot what he was there for, and wondered why he hadn't noticed her before. Her hair was somehow sleeker than anyone else's in the room, her eyes more brighter, her voice more compelling…
Meanwhile, Captain Jack Sparrow was stumbling around the lower decks, trying desperately to locate any source of alcohol that could possibly be stashed about the ship. He had tried everything, including the apple-barrel, but his labours had – as yet - yielded naught. Jack was sure the captain of the accursed vessel must have some spirits somewhere, but the captain's cabin was the only place aboard the miserable floating hell that was locked solidly. That and the food larder, unsurprisingly.
Jack swaggered surreptitiously to the captain's cabin and leaned nonchalantly against the door, turning the knob viciously with his hand held behind his back. When the brass knob refused to yield, Jack pulled a series of wires and picks from his baldric sash and began examining the lock.
"And what may you be doing?" Inquired the irritated voice of what Jack assumed to be the captain. It certainly sounded arsy enough, Jack thought. Hurriedly Jack stowed his lock picks up his sleeve and turned sheepishly to face the captain. Excuses flew through his mind. Keep it simple, Jack, he told himself.
"That's not the ladies bathrooms." Jack exclaimed in outrage and shot off to the relative safety of the crowds in the dance room. As Jack merged quickly into the crowd, he came to the regrettable conclusion there was no spirits aboard the accursed vessel. None at all. If there were, Captain Jack Sparrow would have found it.
"Would you care for a drink?" Asked a handsome, tousled-blonde naval officer who wore the ranks of a Timoneer. "Do you even know what that is?" He had teased Alex when she pointed out his bars on his uniform.
"A drink or a Timoneer?" Alex had asked with a raised eyebrow.
"We'll start with Timoneer. We'll see soon enough if you know how to drink."
"In that case, shouldn't you return to your post and watch to make sure we don't run into rocks, Mr Ship Helmsman?" Alex replied in bored tones. Shocked at her knowledge - he had expected a ditzy, gullible, giggling blonde - the Timoneer (aptly enough called Tim), had laughed, sized her up, then repeated his offer for drinks. "Ah, ye be a feisty one, that's for certain. And just to ease ye pretty little mind, I'm authorized to leave me post; the ship is safely anchored. So how 'bout them drinks?" He laughed.
"Of what; water on-the-rocks?" Alex snorted in contempt, knowing full well the navy's policy on alcohol aboard the ship.
"I was thinking more along the lines of Madagascar Mead, but if you're not up to it…" Tim had trailed off, daring her without quite daring her.
"Where is it?" Alex asked quickly.
Alex and Tim stumbled drunkenly through the networked tunnels of passage-ways and cabins that made up the hull of the Naval cutter. Winded from the effects of heavy laughing, combined with her constraining dress and bodice, Alex leaned against a wall to catch her breath. Doubled over and wheezing slightly, she struggled to breathe normally, and keep the contents of her stomach under control and where they rightly belonged; in her stomach. She had matched Tim glass for glass, until about her ninth. Now she was so drunk she didn't even trust herself to be led topside. If she went back up on deck…she was only just sober enough to realise that presenting herself to the notable company - in the state she was in - was not a good idea. To make matters worse, all the alcohol hadn't kicked in yet, so Alex knew she was going to be a lot more drunk, and in a lot more trouble before the night was out. Why had she been so stubborn to win that stupid drinking game against Tim? Curse her damnable pride and competitiveness… Speaking of Tim, where was he?
Alex drew herself up to full height again, once she was sure she had fullreign over the contents of her stomach, intent on finding where Tim had gone to. Lifting her head, she was surprised to find herself nose-to-nose with the very person she was looking for. He had planted both of his strong arms on either side of her, pressing her up against the wall even further. Instead of the scene being intimate and romantic, Alex found it exactly the opposite. He was almost overbearing, standing over her like that. She screwed up her nose in distaste; he reeked of rum. Tim leant in to plant his mouth solidly on Alex's, but she turned her head away in disgust.
Frowning in anger, he grabbed her roughly by the shoulders and shook her. "Don't play coy wif me, Alex." He slurred, almost crushing her ribs as he squeezed her arms tightly by her sides. Alex gasped as the pain pierced through her alcohol-induced haze – he was too strong. "You've been toyin' wif me all night, and now ye can suffer the consequences," he grinned. Alex struggled feebly, but she couldn't break his vice-like grip. She had already realised Tim was quite strong, but in his drunken state he was almost invincible. Alex's eyes widened in shock as she realised she couldn't escape. Perceiving her pain and fright, Tim leaned in closer. "You're gunna like this." He leered.
CLIFFHANGER!
I'm really sorry, everyonehad such high expectations of this chapter, but I find this chapter also quite boring. There is some action coming up soon, I promise. Maybe I've got one of those writers-block thingies. Anyway, I'm really sorry about the lack of interesting occurrences; I feel like such a failure and a disappointment… Apologies for any misspelt words – I did check this chapter through four - now five - times, but I keep picking up on little errors; the most frequent being 'they' instead of 'the' or vice versa.
Pebbles1234 – I promise I'll write something darker and more interesting soon; a pretty vicious storm may or may not gather on their passage to Tortuga. And a little bit of Jack's past gets revealed, but that's not for a while to come yet.