Chapter Four

The crewmember that had so kindly "escorted" Helena from the brig pushed her in the general direction of the door to the captain's cabin, and walked away. She took a deep breath, tried to ease the backflips that her stomach seemed to be performing, and stepped forward, pushing the door open.

The room that met her eyes looked as if a tornado had blown through it, scattering everything in its path. Maps and various papers were scattered everywhere: on the bed, on the desk, tacked to the wall, falling off of bookshelves, and on the floor. Where there weren't maps and papers, there were clothes. And where there weren't clothes, there were bottles of rum. Many, many bottles of rum. To the far end of the room, there was a bed with lush canopy drapes, and wrapped around most of the room were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, with a vast array of books. She directed her attention to where the voices had come from: in the middle of the room stood a huge mahogany desk, with chairs on either side. On the one side, she saw the man that had come down earlier to give her some food and water, but on the other side, she saw another man that she'd never seen before.

What a strange looking man, she thought, studying his eccentric appearance. His hair is much too long for a man, and what's that in there? Bone? Beads? That's ridiculous. And kohl? On a man's eyes? Her nose wrinkled in distaste.

Captain Jack Sparrow, on the other hand, took in the sight of Helena with amusement in his eyes. Her disheveled appearance, her dirty and wrinkled dress, made of what must have been fine green fabric, the bruise forming on her cheek, and her tangled hair all made such a sight that he actually found himself chuckling. If he guessed right, she was a little brat, just like Elizabeth had been... Ahh, Lizzie... but he banished thoughts of her from his mind. She had her eunuch, after all. But if his predictions were correct, she'd been pampered and spoiled all her life. Maybe a pirate's life would be good for 'er, Jack mused. I'd almost like to slap 'er fer tha' awful look on 'er face.

For Helena's face, indeed, conveyed her extreme dislike for the rather dirty men sitting before her, and for her whole situation in general. The younger man had caught her eye, though. He doesn't belong here at all... he looks so much more... refined. And she couldn't help but admitting to herself that he was, in fact, extremely handsome. One couldn't deny that. With those eyes... and...oh, never mind, she thought, and pushed the notion from her mind. It wouldn't do to get attached to someone, seeing as that she was currently trying to win her way off of the ship in the first place.

Ty, on the other hand, couldn't have felt differently. What a spoiled prat she is. I bet she's never worked a day in her life, he thought angrily. And she's not even beautiful. Her face is too thin, her eyes are too big. Nothing impressive, and with all of that god-awful shrieking, I'll be glad when she's gone. He, unlike Helena, didn't show his dislike outwardly. If there had been one thing that Jack had taught him while on the Pearl, it was not to let people know what you're thinking. That way, you always have the element of surprise. So he pasted on a false smile and cocked his head a bit, leaning back in his chair.

"Miss Butler, isn't it?" he addressed the girl.

"Yes..." she answered, uncertainly.

"Welcome to tha' Black Pearl, love!" Jack slurred, beckoning her to come closer to the desk where he was seated. Once she had tentatively approached, his eyes raked her up and down, taking in what he'd previously seen, but with greater exaggeration.

"Have you ever worked a day in your life, Helena?" Ty said, trying to keep the annoyance from creeping into his tone. "You don't mind if I call you Helena, do you? No, of course you don't," he said before she had time to answer.

"Helena, is it?" Jack repeated. "Pretty name. Sounds familiar, actually. I can't really think of where, though. I'll think of it, eventually. Can I call ye Lena? It's so much easier, ye understand."

Lena. She tried it out in her head. Lena... Lena. She wasn't particularly fond of it, it sounded so... pirate-y. But she didn't really have a choice; if it was her life or her name, she'd gladly relinquish her proper name. So she nodded, nervously. She still wasn't sure what to make of these men, whose names she hadn't even found out yet. They seemed alright to her, even if the one did seem a bit drunk, but she still wasn't sure what to think.

"So, Lena," Ty started again, "Do you have any idea why you're here?"

She shook her head no, saying quietly, "No. I've no idea."

"A bit quieter now, aren't ye, lass? Are ye afraid of me?"

Helena froze. What does he want me to say? Any wrong move and I could be... she shuddered, and decided to keep her mouth shut.

"Well... Lena, I'm waiting for an answer," Ty probed.

"A little," she said softly.

"Well, then. Since we know your name, I suppose that it's alright for you to know ours. Right, Jack?"

"Captain, whelp," Jack growled.

"Right. So. I'm Ty, and this is the captain of the ship, Captain Jack Sparrow."

Helena's mouth fell open. "You're Captain Jack Sparrow?"

"Ahhh. So ye've 'eard of me, lass. Nice ta' 'ear, actually. I was beginning ta' think tha' my reputation was growing lax," he responded.

"You and your crew terrorized Port Royal a few years back! You're filthy, no-good, rotten... pirates!" the last word she spat. Cat, her maid, had locked her in her closet during the pirate raid to protect her, though she'd broken out in about fifteen minutes, looking for her mother and father.

"Whoa, love. Tha' wasn't me, 'twas my former first mate. Don't jump ta' conclusions. But aye, we're pirates. Is tha' an... issue... for ye ?"

"No, Captain Sparrow. It is not. Do you mind telling me exactly why I'm on this bloody ship instead of at my birthday party?"

"Well, love, ta' make it simple, we needed money ta' repair tha' Pearl, an' wiv tha' Isla de Muerta going all pear-shaped, if ye will, we needed money. So we kidnapped ye, an' now we're off ta' Tortuga, where we'll wait until yer darling mummy an' daddy find out yer missing, an' then they'll post a rather large reward fer yer scrawny hide, an' we'll bring ye back to Port Royal, unharmed, collect tha' money, an' be on our way to fix up tha' Pearl," he finished.

"But you give your word that I'll be unharmed? What will you have me do, anyway? I don't want to sit in your prison for the entirety of my stay here," Helena scowled.

"Well," Jack said thoughtfully as he twisted one of the braids in his beard, and then, looking around, he said, "I've an idea, 'ere, love. It's obvious ta' me tha' yer not used to... work, per se. So since ye can't haul sails an' make yerself useful on deck, ye can make work of organizing me cabin!"

Helena looked around at the disarray and stared at him, mouth opened. "Clean your cabin. Clean this... this... typhoon? Are you serious, Captain Sparrow?"

"Completely," he finished with a smirk, which quickly turned to a thoughtful frown. Why does she look familiar? 'Ave I threatened 'er before?

Ty, on the other hand, had walked up to Helena, and, to her utter shock and humiliation, pulled at a corner sticking out of her bodice, and revealed a slim volume, worn and dirty, bound by a green ribbon.

"Give it 'ere, Ty," Jack demanded, and then turned the book over in his hands.

"Where did you get this?"

&&&

Read and review, loves!

Yours,

Ella Raven.