Disclaimer: I don't own PotC. But I finally own a PotC 3 DVD. Very late, yes, but huzzah.
Thanks for the reviews. Sorry it took me so long but time kind of went stealthy on me. Plus I got caught up with my first fanvideo.
"Everyone stay calm, we are taking over the ship." Gillette looked up, stunned. A pirate takeover? How unfortunate! His mind raced for a solution to this infestation.
"Aye, avast!" Gillette stopped once more, but he quickly recovered this time. This was no pirate takeover, he sighed. It was only a sorry attempt by Sparrow and the moony blacksmith's apprentice to commandeer a ship of His Majesty's Royal Navy! And he, Gillette, would such atrocities to occur. He and his worthy men laughed in the face of bilge rats like these.
Gillette stepped forward to deliver a clever bone-shaking address that would scare these infidels off his ship, but he was interrupted by a thud and a grunt. Magdalena had finally lugged her body over the railing of the Interceptor. Gillette smiled. He had found his monologue. "This ship cannot be crewed by two men and a woman. You'll never make it out of the bay." Jack wanted to punch his smug little face through to the back of his head.
"She's not just a woman, she's a witch." Will protested, hoping to scare the navy men with superstition. Before he could do anymore damage, however, Magdalena leaped down the stairs to cover his mouth. She tripped on the fourth stair and tackled Will to the ground. In a moment of panic, Will bit off Magdalena's left ring finger. She screamed as the blood gushed out. Black speckles began to dot her vision.
Oh yes, Gillette mused, he would string up these sorry men and woman, and return to Port Royal a hero, paving the way to a position as Admiral.
But a pistol clicked in his face, "Son, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow." Gillette knew his dreams had just slipped away. He and his men were herded into a small boat and cast off towards the harbor.
"Hurry, Commodore Norrington will catch up to us soon," Will urged. He bent to examine Magdalena's hand, which she clutched in pain. On the floor between them was the finger Will had spit out.
"At least it's not my right hand," she managed to say through gritted teeth.
Jack looked over, "Pick up the finger, you may be able to sew it back on later." With hope, disgust, and disbelief in her eyes, Magdalena gingerly picked up her finger. "Young master Turner, come with me. We must prepare to set sail."
Jack and Will headed to the bow of the ship, where they attempted to lower the sails. Jack flailed his arms as wildly as he could, hoping to give the Commodore the impression that they didn't know what they were doing. Will followed, not playacting in any way.
"Don't stop pulling on those ropes, like so," Jack flailed his arms extra wildly for effect, "but listen to me while you do so. When the good Commodore and the 'fastest ship in the Caribbean' pull up beside us, we'll swing over and be on our way."
"Search every hold, down to the bilges!" Norrington commanded, liking his new authoritative voice. His soldiers swarmed through the ship like disturbed ants. They would not miss anyone that seemed out of place.
At the bow of the ship, Jack wrapped a rope around Magdalena's left wrist. "Hold on tight," he reminded her. Then he and Will both grabbed hold of two more ropes and got ready to swing across to the Interceptor. Jack turned to look at Magdalena. "At your signal love."
"Ready, set, go." She said, and bracing herself from the sudden shock of pain in her left arm, landed with a thud on the deck of the Interceptor. Will quickly chopped off all ties to the Dauntless and with Jack at the wheel, they sailed away from Port Royal and towards almost certain death.
"I thank you, commodore, for getting us ready to make way. We would have had a hard time of it by ourselves," Jack waved his hat courteously at the stunned navy, driving the point home.
Prince Benevolent paced outside Sushmita's chamber doors, sick with worry. Would she pass the test?
Klomp. What was that sound? Benevolent jumped, his hands on his mouth, so, so, anxious and yet not able to check whether his love was all right because of the rules of chivalry.
"La da da dum dum dee dee da…" Betsy, Benevolent's old wet nurse, hummed as she went about emptying bedpans.
"Betsy! Oh, sweet blessed wet nurse. Prithee go in and check on my love?"
Betsy decided that she should because otherwise she would face certain execution for neglecting the crown prince's needs, and so she pushed open the doors with Benevolent peering in over her shoulders.
Sushmita sat in the pile of mattresses, her hair attractively disheveled. In her hands there was a tiny green speck. She had found a pea underneath all the layers of mattresses.
Benevolent jumped for joy. "Oh! You've done it my love. You've passed the test!" He ran to kiss her but stopped himself before he did anything scandalous, like entering her room.
They were to be married, of course. Sushmita had been deemed a princess and although the exact facts of how she discovered the pea were mysterious, she had found it in the end.
Preparations had been prepared since Benevolent had been born, and with the exception of the dress, everything was suitable and ready. Benevolent's future bride had been expected to be a bit slighter, but it was all right because room for curves was quickly added.
All the wealthy of the land were gathered in the small cathedral to create a homely look. Benevolent smiled. It was as if he was not the prince. For now, he was simply a man about to marry his love in an ornate cathedral with his rich subjects watching.
The national organist began the wedding march. He had his favorite boots on and they made a wonderful sound as he marched his way down the aisle. Thump, thump, thu-duh-dump. He turned, bowed at the congregation, and then began to play.
The doors swung open, little robins flying about with ribbons in their beaks, and Sushmita gracefully made her entrance. Demure as ever, she walked down the aisle, but halfway there she could contain herself no longer.
Throwing a knowing gaze at the prince, she prepared herself for song. "When I first saw you…"
