The Trouble with Women
Chapter 16
Trouble in Nosy Boraha
--
Ambodiforaha. Jack recalled that was the name of the largest pirate town on the eastern half of the world, the same town he strolled through at that very moment. Years ago, a native tribe had built it on the southern stretch of L'île Sainte Marie, hence the painful pronunciation that only the locals could seem to pull off.
The small sliver of an island was nothing short of a pirate kingdom, something some men could only dream about. Jack had only felt more at home in one place, the Caribbean. And as fond as he was of Sainte Marie, he rarely made it over to this side of the world to enjoy its pleasures. And bountiful with many pleasures it was, raunchy and lawless. Tortuga only beat the comfort of the place by a smidgeon, and only because he'd been practically raised there.
Countless ships flying the Jolly Roger sailed into port, joining the ones already docked there, each there for the same reason. A safe haven from the navy, whichever one it was. Jack had encountered more than enough in his years.
"The Maiden's Head, did ye say, Cap'n?" a voice asked, snapping Jack out a reverie he'd been wandering around in ever since tying up the boat at the dock and beholding the marvels before him.
He stopped abruptly, turned to face the four men he'd come ashore with. They were staring at him expectantly.
"That's right," he confirmed after a moment then realized they were standing outside said tavern by the crude picture and words on a sign hanging above him.
No, not good at all. It was better to be in that out.
Without waiting for his fellows Jack swept inside, pushing open the doors to reveal a rowdy group of pirates spread around the tables playing cards, drinking, and engaging in those meaningless fights that seemed to have a purpose while one was drunk but lost all sensibility when one awoke on the floor with a broken nose and a hangover.
Eyes searching the place, Jack discreetly told the four to find a table as well as to keep an eye out for his wandering crew before departing towards the bar. There was a particular purpose in mind when he'd chosen this tavern. It wasn't the cleanest, the service was nothing short of rubbish, and the rum was somewhat rank in taste, but there was a man he had to find.
Taking a seat away from the rest of the company, Jack tugged the rim of his hat down somewhat to hide his face in shadows. He patted his pockets carefully; making sure a fat purse he'd managed to lift of an equally fat man was still within. Satisfied the gold hadn't run off, he crossed his arms over the bar top and waited for service. After a minute or so, a man with a stained apron came bustling over, wiping a wet glass clean with a dirty cloth.
"What can I get ye?" he asked, his voice clipped and hurried.
Jack kept his head low as to avoid any unwanted attention as well as any familiar faces. "Actually, I'm lookin' for a—" he started with a slur, but was cut off abruptly as the man slammed the glass noisily down on the bar top—giving Jack quite a start—and leaned down to crane his head so he could see the pirate's face. There was a grin on his lips.
"Jack Sparrow? That you?" the man asked with much gusto, hand shooting forward to tip the hat up. "Aye, tis! I knew I'd see you 'gain one day!"
The urge to shoot the man for being so nosy left the pirate as he recognized the voice. "Eugene?" he inquired almost hesitantly, replacing the hat firmly on his head and peering at the man.
Eugene grinned madly. "Aye! Tis me, Eugene Bernard, still stuck on this worthless spit o' land!" he exclaimed, and leaned forward to examine Jack. "How long 'as it been, mate?"
Looking much less enthusiastic than the man before him, Jack managed a withering smile. "Obviously not long enough," he muttered, but before the bartender could get in a word, continued on, perking up considerably. "Got me Pearl back, I did. Not but a year ago."
Eugene's enthusiasm didn't seem dampened by Jack's sarcasm. "Hah! Just like I knew ye would! Listen mate, what can I get ye? It's on me, per say…"
Sighing gratefully, as alcohol was something his system was lacking at the moment, he replied without decision. "Rum, and a bit of information…if you would be so kind," he grinned, but it lacked his usual cheer. This grin was more sinister. Eugene knew it well, he'd seen it on the same man seven years before, haunted with the loss of his ship.
"Aye, sure mate, no problem," the bartender nodded, holding a finger up. "Just gimme a minute and I'll be back with your rum and an open ear." And with that said, he slipped away.
Jack pulled his hat down on his head once more, preferring to remain inconspicuous. Turning his head slightly, he surveyed the tavern behind him. He spotted Gibbs with several of his crew, roaring with laughter at something or other, spilling a tankard of rum down his middle. That seemed normal. Nothing seemed out of place, and Jack figured he was just being paranoid. Was he really going to let Vivien's fright overtake him, too? Not bloody likely! Although…it didn't hurt to be cautious…
"'Ere ye are, Jack, finest in all the Indian Ocean. Got one of me lads to sack a ship off India's coast a month or so ago," Eugene announced, slamming a tankard down before the pirate before leaning forward on his elbows. "Now, tell me what you been up to! What's brought you back to ole Nosy Boraha?"
Jack took hold of the tankard, bringing it to his nose briefly to sniff the contents, and after a moment deemed it safe to drink. One could never be too careful, and Eugene seemed to understand. "Business," he answered, "and I hope you don't mind if I refrain from telling you what it's about. I'm sure there're a few unwanted listeners lurking about here."
Eugene cast a glance around his tavern. "Too true, too true…" he muttered, but then turned an ear to Jack. "Well…what's this information you were after, then? Can't say I'll be much help but I'm better than nothin'."
Jack tipped the tankard up to his lips, letting the alcohol slid between his lips, heating his throat and warming his belly. Half of it was already downed by the time he got around to speaking. "I'm wondering if you've heard anyone mention my name around 'ere the past few days. The help would be…much obliged…" Then, almost magically, two gold coins were spread between Jack's nimble fingers, right underneath Eugene's nose.
The barkeep's eyes darted from Jack back to the two coins repeatedly before he spoke. His voice sounded careful. "Nay, Jack, I can't say that I 'ave…not here in Ambodiforaha, that is."
Jack arched a speculative eyebrow, the slightest hint of a smirk on his lips. "Really? Nothing at all? What about a woman? A Frenchwoman with a fortune?"
Eugene's eyes were glued to the gold as it was held tantalizingly before him. Jack could hear the man's breathing speed up slightly.
"Nay, nothing at all…"
"Ah…well that's too bad…" he moved to slip the coins into his pocket, but the wiry man lunged, his upper body splayed over the grimy bar top. There was a look of desperation on his face.
"B-but, for…lets say…two more o' those lovely coins, I can promise ye my ear's as well as other's will be open at all times."
Jack smirked. He'd got the man now. Deftly, he produced two more gold coins and set all four firmly on the bar top. "All information will be appreciated. My ship is docked in the west side of the harbour."
"A-aye, Jack. Count on me, mate."
"Good man," Jack grinned triumphantly, dropping four coins down under the barkeep's nose and patting him on the shoulder. Happily, he pushed off the barstool and made to leave, but not before turning back on his heel and snatching his tankard up. Saluting the man with the rum, he winked before traipsing over to his crew.
The remainder of the day was spent in The Maiden's Head, the crew of the Black Pearl slowly filtering in after finishing their business and buying whatever they may have needed. They'd managed to bring half the town into the tavern, news of Jack Sparrow and his tales attracting many a person. And, Jack got exactly what was coming to him, much to his infinite enjoyment. Too much rum and a gaggle of women clustered about him as he weaved one of his farfetched tales. Willing women, unlike the stiff little chit he'd locked up in his cabin earlier.
In fact, little Vivien Brideau hardly crossed his mind the whole day, as the rum seemed to ease his mind and he became much looser, in words and actions. Of course, consuming an ever-flowing tankard of rum did that to a man, and Jack only decided to retire to bed when the day finally caught up to him. He hadn't managed a wink in twenty four hours, and after a drunken Anamaria had commented on the dark circles under his eyes (although it could have very well been the kohl), he was convinced it was time for him to leave.
So, Jack Sparrow bid his crew a good night as darkness fell on Sainte Marie, and bowed to the ladies (who were very disappointed he hadn't decided to stay longer) before staggering out the door and onto the streets. It was a very good thing he wasn't in a respectable town, because the navy would be on him in a minute. Jack had never been very quiet when he was drunk, to the entire way back to his ship, including the time spent rowing, he'd managed to bellow out several badly done sea-shanties, and earning scattered applause from passer bys.
When he did reach the Pearl, he had to have the man on guard duty, Sam, help him up lest he tumble backwards into the sea. If he were sober this would have embarrassed him a mite, but since he wouldn't remember it come morning no harm was done. Except on the steps down below when he'd managed to trip over his own boots and topple down the rest. He'd called an incoherent "Evr'thin's savvy so get back ta work!" upto Sam as he'd come to aid his Captain, and managed to pop back up from thedeck as though nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Brushing himself off, he swayed down the hall towards his quarters and was somewhat dismayed when the door wouldn't open for him no matter how much he wiggled the knob.
A light must have gone off in his rum-soaked brain for he managed to dig a small silver key out of his overcoat pocket and stick it into the keyhole. Then, voila, the door opened for him and Jack stumbled inside, loosing his balance slightly when the world seemed to sway before his eyes. But he still managed to close the door, albeit loudly, before proceeding to undress himself.
The hat went on the desk, the coat on the chair; the boots on the floor, the vest…the vest went on the floor too. He began to unwind the long red and white sash around his waist while making his way towards the bed. Minus the usual helpful light from his lantern, it was somewhat of a difficult task, but the cloth fell to the floor in a shapeless puddle of fabric beside the bed, defeated. He was Captain Jack Sparrow, after all.
With a sigh, he flopped down on the edge of his bed, pulling his shirt over his head and using the sleeve to rub the kohl from his eyes before tossing it onto the growing pile of clothes decorating his floor. His fingers just began to work on the buttons of his breeches when a rather odd noise came from behind him. A rather human-like snort…much like a snore.
Jack's fingers halted their work, looking very confused. He sat there a moment, bemused, before slowly turned to look over his shoulder.
And what a surprise it was to find Vivien curled up, asleep on his bed, her head on his pillows, one of his books in her arms. A page was marked with a finger.
After a moment, the surprise wore off as he realize he had been the one to lock her up in his room in the first place, merely to keep the woman out of trouble. Because she seemed strangely attracted to it…or maybe it was the other way around. But either way, he'd completely forgotten about her and was somewhat put off that she was asleep in his bed.
That is, until he noticed what a pretty picture she made, what with her eyelashes resting gently on her cheeks and freckles highlighted in the moonlight streaming inthrough the porthole. Her lips parted the slightest, her hair splayed around her in a dark halo. And the way she'd managed to curl her arms protectively around the book and herself, knees bent into her chest, her skirts hiked up just the slightest so he could see her feet intertwined and the smooth skin of her calves.
That was when Jack Sparrow decided he was infinitely lucky to have Vivien asleep in his bed, and carefully manoeuvred himself into a position facing her (after doing up the buttons on his breeches, of course). Some coherent part of his brain warned him that Vivien would not be pleased if she found a completely naked Jack Sparrow sleeping next to her in the morrow. That same part of his brain conveniently decided not to warn Jack that Vivien also wouldn't be very happy at all if she found him sleeping next to her in the morning.
He propped himself up on one elbow, dark eyes watching the young woman for a moment before they strayed to the large book clutched in her arms. That wouldn't do, he decided, and scooted himself forward to tug the book from her embrace. Surprisingly, she let it loose easily, and her arms instead went for something else to grasp. One of his pillows. Her breathing remained steady, however. She hadn't awoken, and Jack couldn't help but grin. At first glance she didn't seem like a heavy sleeper at all. More of the type to wake at ever small creak in the wall or tap on the floor.
He glanced at the title of the book and read the name, Shakespeare, before cracking it open and reading the page she had marked.
Oh take the sense, sweet of my innocence,
Love takes the meaning in love's conference,
I mean, that my heart unto yours is knit
So that but one heart we can make of it;
Two bosoms interchained with an oath;
So then two bosoms and a single troth.
Then by your side no bed-room me deny;
For lying so, Hermia, I do not lie…
Blinking slightly, he closed it with a soft snort. Not one of his fondest books. He recalled lifting it off an English ship a few months before, and but he supposed she had to keep herself occupied somehow. Vaguely, he hoped she hadn't gone snooping around his maps. He'd have to clean them up tomorrow…
Jack let the book slide to the floor, much to fatigued to replace it on the shelf. Another thing to do tomorrow…he told himself, and settled back down onto the bed with a smile. He was facing Vivien again, watching her chest rise and fall with each breath. He would admit he was tempted to lean over a bit closer to get a closer peak, but the look of unawares on her sleeping face was enough to halt him.
Instead, the pirate reached out with his hand, running a grimy finger gently over her round cheek, watching carefully for any signs of her waking. There was nothing, and he ventured onto the bridge of her nose, counting several freckles as he skimmed a finger down to her lips. Soft, plump lips, untouched by any man, he would bet. Vivien hardly seemed like a woman for kissing, or a woman experienced with kissing.
Smirking to himself, he ran his fingers over her chin, down across her neck…
The young woman stirred slightly, bringing her shoulders up to ward off any more touches. Jack had to suppress a chuckle, and couldn't resist running another finger down her nose. Her skin was soft to the touch, no sign of that nasty sunburn she'd sported on her first day. All she had to show for it was a darker shade of skin and a few more freckles.
The moon ran behind a cloud for a moment, and Jack was left in near darkness with the Frenchwoman, motionless upon the bed. When the silver orb broke free of its cover, however, and its light filtered through his window and onto the bed, his eyes were drawn again to Vivien's face.
She was a plain woman, but one might call her pretty. In the moonlight she resembled anything but a frightened, troublesome woman, French at that. In the moonlight her pale skin glowed, and Jack wanted nothing more than to wrap an arm around her and pull her to him to run his hands over every crevice of her body. But that small coherent part of his mind stopped him from doing anything rash, and he forced his eyes from her face before rolling onto his back, folding his wandering hands behind his head.
But as he lay there and stared at the ceiling, the soft smell of a woman, natural and untouched, invaded his senses, making his body ache with want. He realized he was more than a little drunk, though, and turned on his side, facing away from Vivien. Closing his eyes, he attempted to banish her face from his head, fingers digging into the soft fabric of his pillow.
Mercifully, Jack Sparrow drifted off into a dreamless sleep, exhaustion overtaking him as he muscles relaxed and his breathing calmed.
The two lay on opposite sides of the large bed as they slept, remaining that way as the crew of the Pearl slowly filtered out from the pubs and brothel's and fell snoring into their hammocks.
--
That same night, on the dark waters of the Indian Ocean, sailed a large ship, sails billowing at full as a night breeze propelled it towards its destination.
Ambodiforaha.
And a man lay awake on his cot that night, soft lantern light illuminating the small cabin he occupied. Dark eyes glared at the ceiling, yet his mind was far away on a young woman. A woman who had the luck of an escape from him, Dorian Belfast. It wasn't supposed to happen. The woman was supposed to do what he wanted, to stay in constant fear of him so he wouldn't ever have to worry about a thing like this happening!
She wouldn't be gone for long, however, as Antonio Elaido's ship La Sangre de Mar, was taking him closer to the wretched Vivien Brideau.
She would be stolen from right under Jack Sparrow's nose!
--
Vivien woke abruptly, the sound of loud rapping invading her ears. She vaguely recognized the sound to be knocking, and groaned lightly in protest, not willing to wake up and get to work on the ship. Just a few more minutes, she wanted to say, but thought the words instead, and content with knowing that she tightened her arms around her pillow with a sigh.
But the person was insistent, his fist hitting the wood a bit harder now, the noise accompanied by a voice.
"Captain? Are ye awake?" called in a voice, and Vivien found it slightly odd that the man was addressing her as Captain. But she rode it off as her hearing, and, in an attempt to ignore the noise, she burrowed her face into the pillow, intent on pulling it closer.
She knew something was terribly wrong when her pillow hugged her back, the movement accompanied by a muffled groan and an exhale of warm breath near her ear.
Her hands moved before her eyes, gingerly running along her pillow, only to find it was quite smooth and solid and seemed to flex slightly under her touch. Then, startled by this revelation, her eyes snapped open and she shot back away from her 'pillow,' only to find her movement inhibited by a pair of arms. The next moment, Vivien was staring nose to nose with a very confused looking Jack Sparrow, his own eyes half clouded with sleep.
"Captain Sparrow? Is everythin' alrigh' in there?" the concerned voice floated through the door to Jack's quarters, but the two didn't seem to notice.
They were much too occupied with staring at each other in surprise and incredulity, bodies still entwined in the bed sheets.
Vivien was the first to react, mouth opening in a scream, although one of surprise or fear, she wasn't quite sure herself. But she screamed, and Jack automatically let her go to protect his ears. She reeled frantically away, shrieking, before tumbling over the side of the bed onto the floor with a loud thud. Her screaming halted abruptly as she fell out of sight, and Jack flopped around a moment before managing to untangle himself from the bed sheets and peer over the side the young woman had disappeared over.
She was staring up at him, looking scandalized, hair disheveled, dress wrinkled and eyes still dull from sleep. They stared at each other again; Jack perched in the side of the bed, bare-chested with an inquisitive look upon his face.
"Captain? Captain? Someone in there wit' ya?" the persistent pirate behind the door asked feebly, clueless as to the goings on inside.
The voice was enough to bring Vivien to her senses, however, and she spared Jack one last wide-eyed glance before scrambling up from the floor and stumbling past the bed in a haste to get to the door. It was flung open in a wide arc, revealing a young sailor in its frame, but the Frenchwoman was already out the door before a word could be said.
The pirate turned slightly, just catching the end glimpse of Vivien's skirts as she fled to her cabin and slammed the door shut. He looked back at his Captain, who was now lounging idly on the bed, inspecting his grimy fingernails casually, as if screaming ladies hurled themselves from his quarters every day (which was anything but the truth!).
"Captain Sparrow?" the boy asked cautiously.
Jack's head snapped up, eyebrows raised as he leaned back on his arms, legs crossed before him on the bed. "Yes?"
"Ana-Anamaria, sir…she told me to tell ye break'ast is ready. It's nearing mid-morning."
Nodding, he fixed the pirate with a knowing smile. "Polite terms, eh?"
He seemed nervous under his Captain's stare. "Ah…y-yes, sir…but I won't tell you what she really said. I'm sure she'd skewer me, sir," he stuttered out.
"No need for all the sir's, John m'boy. Captain does just fine," he told his crewman, and slid off the bed to hunt for his shirt. "Go tell Brill to leave some for me…and don't mention that dear Miss Brideau was in me cabin, savvy? Can't have her reputation ruined, can we?" he leered at John, humour in his eyes.
John nodded hurriedly, "Yes si—I mean Captain. Right away." He fled the room, closing the door behind him as Jack wrestled his shirt back on. The Captain wrinkled his nose upon discovering the dark black smudge on the fabric.
"I have to get this cleaned…" he muttered to himself, proceeding to pull on the remainder of his clothes. He carefully applied new kohl around his eyes and humming cheerfully to himself as he thought of Vivien.
Memories from the night before were coming back to him now, as they'd eluded him when he'd woken to find himself wrapped in her embrace, and she in his. Not that'd it been a bad awakening, certainly not! In fact, Jack was quite sure he could handle many more mornings with Vivien in his bed, but he was sure that would take time. Unless he managed to lock her up in his cabin every day, but he doubted that would very much improve her mood with him. She'd certainly seemed shocked enough this morning! Jack had thought he'd gone deaf! The woman really did have lungs like a banshee, not that he blamed her. She'd had a right to be surprised, but he'd never imagined she would run from him!
Have to explain it all to her later, I suppose, Jack mused, and fixed his hat atop his head before strolling out from his cabin. He was feeling very refreshed and ready to face another day running around the town.
The crew was already running about when he made his way into the galley, and several were still at the mess tables finishing off their bowls of gruel. He fervently hoped that Brill had cooked the oatmeal and flour through.
The plump cook greeted him with a smile and a full bowl of bubbling, steaming mess, complete with a spoon. He patted Jack upon the back encouraging his Captain to eat it all, but Jack promptly lost his appetite when he noticed the bubbled weren't the only things moving within the food. Politely declining breakfast, telling Brill he'd find a nip to eat in town and promising the man new supplies that day, the pirate managed to slip from the galley relatively unharmed. He bounded up the stairs to the deck, wincing slightly as the sun caught him straight in the face.
Squinting, he observed the men a moment. They were dutifully hauling barrels of rum and water as well as crates of fruit and vegetables onto the Pearl, the first of the supplies that they would need to gather today. The sound of an argument, however, caught his ears. Jack turned to the stern of the ship, where Anamaria looked to be giving Vivien a heated lecture before the doors of his cabin. He noticed the Frenchwoman was cringing away from the female pirate, and had a sudden hint as to why she was being told of so vehemently.
Straightening his hat and lifting his head, Jack approached the two women with his usual gait. Anamaria halted her tirade as Jack appeared, head cocked to the side and a look of interest upon his face.
"What's this all about, then?" he asked, eyes turning to Vivien, who looked to be suffering from an extremely red blush.
Anamaria cast the youner woman one last glare before turning to Jack, hands planted firmly on her hips and her chin held high. "Your newest crewmember wasn't in the galley helpin' Brill this morning, nor was she in her room, I hear!" she spat.
Unaffected, Jack smiled at her, placating. "Why, Ana, that's because Vivien was keeping my lovely self company, weren't you love?" he turned to look at Vivien, nodding the slightest, a movement the mulatto woman didn't catch.
Anamaria turned an incredulous gaze on the younger woman, disbelieving until she saw her nod meekly, looking quite miserable. She whirled about to stare at Jack, eyes wide. "Did ya force her, ya bastard?" she demanded furiously, fists clenched.
Jack's face remained blank. "Leave it, Anamaria," he warned darkly.
The female pirate snarled, looking as frustrated with herself as she was with him."Damned, stupid ass!"
He arched a calculating eyebrow at her. "Would you be sayin' the same thing if I told you that Vivien was asleep when I got there?" he asked her patronizingly.
"That don't mean nothing happened, ya wretch!" Anamaria growled, and Vivien's ears coloured.
A muscle in Jack's cheek twitched slightly, and he gave a sidelong glance at the Frenchwoman. "You know I ain't like that, Ana," he told her.
Anamaria heaved a sigh, closing her eyes briefly to soothe her anger. Then, she gave Jack an unimpressed look. "Aye, you're right, but that don't change the fact you slept with the lass, ye dirty man!" she retorted, and stuck her nose back in the air before brushing roughly past him.
Jack turned to shout at her retreating form. "Not a word to anyone, Ana!" he ordered, and received a rather rude gesture from the mulatto woman in return. He sighed, rolling his eyes to the heavens for a moment in despair, before turning to face Vivien. Her embarrassed blush seemed to have dissipated somewhat, but as she noticed his eyes were on her she coloured up again slightly. Jack chose to ignore that fact.
"Don't mind her, she's not a morning person," he said lightly.
Vivien knew that.
"You had anything to eat yet, love?" he questioned politely, attempting to banish the awkwardness between them.
She shook her head mutely, unwilling to meet his gaze.
Stepping forward, he slung an arm around her shoulders. "Believe me, that's a very good thing," he told her, leading her away. "Because I believe my crew just hauled aboard a crate of bananas and apples. Come to think of it, did I ever tell you that bananas are my favourite…?"
--
On the other side of town, far from where the Black Pearl could be seen, a Spanish galleon had just docked off shore, the name La Sangre de Mar painted in flowing letters across its hull.
Two men stood silent at the side of the ship, staring out at the pirate town as the crew hurried around them, securing the ship to float in the harbour.
The Captain turned to the man beside him, arching a delicate eyebrow. "Have you any idea how to find them, then?" he asked. "I'm afraid I don't frequent this town as often as I used to."
Dorian Belfast gazed out over the waters, watching the ships and the men out in small rowboats, unaware of his eyes. There was one ship docked here that needed to be found, and he new exactly how to find it.
"You simply have to ask, Señor Elaido. I'm sure there are a few men in this town that wouldn't mind having a blade between Sparrow's shoulders."
The Spaniard turned to grin at Belfast. "Ah, for a moment I'd forgotten your less than honest history," he said, voice deep and smooth. "Tell me, what do you plan on doing to this Jack Sparrow, hmm?"
Belfast's eyes strayed to the bright waters once more. "I plan on stealing from him, Señor, and woe be the fool who stands in my way." He glanced at the ship's Captain. "I can only hope it will be him."
--
French Translations
Gasp! None? What has the world come to?
Actually, I don't think Vivien said anything in this chapter. Too busy screaming…;)
--Cayenne Pepper Powder