Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or plotlines of "Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl." If I did, I wouldn't be sitting here writing fanfiction; I'd be off making money. Which I am not doing with this work. I do, however, lay claim to the characters of Genesis Wolfe and Rosalyn O'Brien, and would be pleased as punch if you did not use them without my permission. Thank you, darlings.
Author's Note:It seems Jack and Gen are going to get along famously. I wonder where Roz shall run off to, however? It seems we shall have to find out our favorite Irishwoman's fate at a later time; for now, let us follow Genesis and Jack as they venture into the unknown territory of blacksmithing.
Chapter Five: In Which Genesis Becomes a Sports Commentator
As soon as Genesis entered the smithy with Jack, her lungs wanted to beat her to a bloody pulp. She was already panting like a dog from the running, and now she was in a building full of smoke, dust, and the less-than-appealing combined scent of donkey and old whiskey.
Jack caught sight of the tools, and began walking toward them, when a dull thud was heard from a darkened corner. Genesis laid a halting hand on Jack's arm, and pointed toward the snoring form of the blacksmith, Mr. Brown. Jack nodded in understanding and they both tiptoed gingerly over to the drunken man, leaning over him. Gen's nose wrinkled; he smelled like he had soaked in a barrel of whiskey. Jack poked him once, and the two of them backed away simultaneously, waiting for him to awaken.
Jack glanced at Genesis, then crept close again.
"Whoa!" he shouted, backing up again to await Brown's expected wakefulness. Mr. Brown didn't move. Genesis shrugged, and Jack once again moved toward the tools. Genesis plopped down on a stool, making herself comfortable. Easier (and much more entertaining) to just watch the proceedings.
Jack picked up a hammer, laid the chain of his irons over the anvil next to the fire, and tried to strike them. Unsuccessfully. He tried again. Unsuccessfully. Hit after hit he missed the chain, due to the movement of his wrist striking with the hammer. He growled, throwing a bit of a tantrum and yanking at the chain. Genesis chuckled, and he scowled at her.
"I don't see why you're so amused, Miss Morgan," he said in an impatient tone. "In case you haven't noticed, you're no better off than I am."
"You could say that," Gen said, rising to her feet. "But I understand the sheer mechanics of things." She pointed to the wheel-like mechanism above their heads, and Jack's light bulb switched on. He grabbed a hot poker and stuck the donkey gently on the rump. The poor animal bellowed and began to move, the gears above them jumping into action.
"Very humane," Gen said, looping her chains over a spoke as Jack had. "A gentle slap on the rear end would've sufficed."
"Later, darling," Jack said suggestively as his chains broke. Gen's broke a moment later, but he had already moved out of slapping range. His eyes were locked on the door, outside of which footsteps could be heard.
"Hide," Jack whispered sharply, and he ducked out of site behind the stone fireplace. Genesis slid under a table; not the best hiding place she could've thought of off the top of her head, but better than just standing in the middle of the room looking shocked.
The door opened, and Will Turner stepped into the room. His face twisted in concern, and he rushed to the upset donkey, lovingly calming it down. He glanced at Mr. Brown and smiled warmly.
"Right where I left you," he said, his words falling upon deaf ears. He glanced at the hammer on the anvil, his brow furrowing. "Not where I left you." His dark eyes traveled toward the mantle of the fireplace, where they fell on a hat. A leather tri-corn hat that was left there by a very careless pirate.
Stupid man, Genesis thought. Stupid, stupid man.
Will reached for the hat, only to be welcomed with a smart slap on the wrist with the broad side of a sword. He snatched his hand to his chest and came face to face with Captain Jack Sparrow. Genesis also sprang from her hiding place, and, for a moment, Will simply looked back and forth between Gen, Jack, and the cold steel pointing at his throat.
"You're the ones they're hunting," Will said. "The pirates."
"Gee, what gave you the first hint, darling?" Genesis said, rolling her eyes. She glanced at Jack. "Quick ones, these blacksmiths."
"You seem somewhat familiar," Jack said, cocking his head at Will. "Have I threatened you before?"
"I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates," Will replied coldly.
"Can't imagine why," Gen quipped. "Fine bunch of fellows they are. Make a smashing good cup of tea." Jack gave her a don't-you-ever-shut-up look and turned his attention back to Will.
"Ah, well, then it would be a shame to put a black mark on your record. So, if you'll excuse us," Jack said, taking Gen by the hand and turning casually to leave. His pace halted when he heard the familiar swish of a sword being pulled from its holder. Gen glanced back; Will had picked up one of the many swords lying around the shop.
"Do you think this wise, boy?" Jack asked, taking a defensive stance. "Crossing blades with a pirate?"
"You'll be questioning his wisdom a lot, I'm afraid," Gen muttered.
"You threatened Miss Swann," Will snarled. Jack grinned and slowly ran his blade smoothly, suggestively, along the blade of Will's sword.
"Only a little."
Will lunged, and they sparred a bit before stopping.
"You know what you're doing, I'll give you that," Jack said. "Excellent form. But how's your footwork? First I step here." Jack sidestepped, and Will easily followed suit. "Very good. Now that last step again."
Gen had once again settled back onto the stool to watch the show. The two men continued to give each other hell until finally, Jack managed to knock Will off kilter.
"Ta," Jack said simply, walking towards the door and sheathing his own sword. Gen cried out as Will flung the sword with deadly accuracy, implanting it into the thick wood of the door just inches from Jack's head. Jack looked at the sword, back at Will, and then gripped the sword, giving it a yank. To no avail. He launched himself into a rather spastic routine of twists and pulls before swinging around to face Will with utter and supreme flourish.
"That is a wonderful trick," Jack said, sauntering towards Will. "Except you are once again between me and my way out," he gestured toward the back door, "and now you have no weapon." Gen sighed as Will spun around a grabbed a red-hot poker from the fire. The look on Jack's face was priceless as Will launched his attack, which was now decorated with bright sparks whenever their weapons connected.
"Oh, that was low," Gen said, having begun to commentate the match. "Watch it, Jacko, he almost had you there." She shrieked and dove out of the way as the battle moved to where she was sitting beneath the large wheel. Will grabbed two swords as Jack looked at the utter menagerie of steel.
"Who makes all these?" he asked.
"I do," Will said. "And I practice with them three hours a day!"
"Wow," Gen said. "That's a bit sad."
Jack nodded in agreement. "You need to find yourself a girl, mate," he said, suddenly backing up as Will lunged. He caught Will's swords with his own blade above his head and moved his face in close. "Or, perhaps the reason you practice three hours a day is that you already found one, and are otherwise incapable of wooing said strumpet." He paused. "You're not a eunuch, are you?" He grimaced, glancing down at Will's crotch.
"I practice three hours a day, so that when I meet a pirate, I can kill it!" Will replied, attacking once again.
"Funny how he never answered you, isn't it, Jack?" Gen piped up. She watched in amazement as the fight moved up into the rafters. "Very believable, this fight…"
Upon reaching the ground again, Will knocked Jack's sword away. In a final act of desperation, Jack tore open a bag above Will, sending dark orange sand all over the younger man. He whipped out his pistol, the barrel of which Will was staring into once he wiped his eyes.
"You cheated!" Will said, sounding stunned.
"Pirate!" Jack and Gen chimed together. There was a loud thud against the door. The soldiers had found them. Gen frantically looked for a weapon she could use. Jack's small dagger probably wouldn't do her much good. She grabbed the first thing her hands hit; a beautiful sword, the hilt copper filigree, the blade liquid steel, etched with ornate flames. She held it towards Will, trying not to let it droop. Why didn't anyone tell her that swords were so damned heavy?
"Move away," she said to Will warningly.
"No."
"Please move?" Jack tried.
"No!" Will said gallantly. "I cannot just step aside and let you escape."
Jack's face suddenly turned very serious, and he cocked his pistol. "This shot was not meant for you."
Before Will could say anything in reply, Jack was on the floor. Mr. Brown, still blinking drunkenly, stood behind him, the now-broken bottle of whiskey still raised above his head. The door burst open, and Genesis attempted to dash to the back door. Will managed to seize her and tear the sword from her grasp, pulling her against him and holding the blade to her throat.
"Excellent work, Mr. Brown," Norrington announced, glancing at Jack's unconscious form. "You've assisted in the capture of two dangerous fugitives."
"Just doing my civic duty, sir," Mr. Brown replied, sounding like he was on the brink of a belch.
"You know," Gen whispered to Will, grimacing at the intoxicated smithy. "If you weren't such an obnoxious pretty boy, I'd say you don't get the credit you deserve, love."
"You know," Will hissed back. "If you weren't a filthy pirate, I'd agree with you."
"Well," Norrington said, bursting at the seams with pride. "I trust you'll always remember this as the day that Captain Jack Sparrow and Genesis Morgan almost escaped."
Three men hoisted and carried Jack out the door, while two more took a struggling Genesis off of Will's hands. She paused in her twisting, glancing back at Will and smiling.
"I'll be expecting that sword back, sweetie."