Thank you everyone who reviewed! I appreciate it!
I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, Disney does. I only own the characters who weren't in the movies. You know, the ones I made up.
How long have we been in the brig? Five days? A week? I lost count days ago, not having food or water to energize myself to be able to think straight. My stomach cramps from hunger, and my throat is dry and scratchy from the lack of water.
But none of it tears at me…like it does to see my wife in her condition.
She just lies on the floor, now, her legs drawn as close as her stomach will allow, her hands absentmindedly stroking the length of her swollen belly. She hasn't spoken in a while, hasn't really moved, with the exception of her hands. She fears greatly for the health of our child.
I moved closer to her, stroking the side of her face that wasn't pressed to the hard floor of our cell. She closed her eyes, a single tear escaping. I wiped it away and pressed a kiss to her brow. She took my hand, guiding it down to her belly.
"The baby barely moves, anymore." she whispered, her voice cracking. "We need to get food…I fear the poor thing is going to starve."
"Shh…shh…" I cooed, scooping her up onto my lap like a child.
She cried softly on my shoulder, keeping her hands on her belly.
"Aw! Isn't that sweet, boys?"
I looked up from my wife to the door of our cell, and glared. The three men that had continuously been torturing us over the course of the week were standing there, drinking in and mocking my interactions with my wife.
"Come along, Admiral. We have a scheduled visit with an old friend of yours. Captain John Davis. Sound familiar?"
I froze. I thought he'd died in a battle, long ago!
"I think he does!" One said to the other. "Look at him! Scared as a mouse cornered by a cat! Ha!"
"Help me drag them out, boys."
In a matter of seconds, my wife was ripped from my arms by one of the men, while the other two twisted my arms painfully behind my back.
"Let her go!" I shouted to the man shoving my wife down the hall, while trying to rip away from the two men that had a hold on my arms.
In response to this, the two men bashed my head against the bars of the cell, before dragging me down the hall. In a daze, I didn't bother to put up a fuss…only allowed myself to be dragged.
The sunlight that shown across the deck was nearly blinding, being the first time I'd seen sunlight in nearly a week. I closed my eyes momentarily, then opened them again in an attempt to allow them to adjust to the blinding sunlight. When my vision did clear, I saw my wife being forced up a gangplank that had been set between our ship and another.
I pressed forward, nearly dragging the two men with me as I climbed the gangplank. Once I was aboard the other ship, I was greeted by taunting and cursing, all of the pirates at once recognizing me. A few of them even delivered blows to my face and chest.
"Stop what you're doing, now!" A familiar voice bellowed.
"Here he is, Davis! The mutt you requested." One of the men sneered, shoving me to the deck.
"Pick him up, lads! I want a good look at him!" The hearty voice called, coming through the crowd of pirates.
Two other pairs of hands grabbed my arms, hauling me to my feet, standing me up next to Chrissy. Then, there he was. Captain John Davis. He was at least half a head taller than me, with light brown hair pulled neatly back in a black ribbon. His dark brown, nearly black eyes drank in the sight of me doubled over in pain, bruised, and a fresh wound on my left temple from being dashed into the cell bars.
He was dressed rather well for a pirate. He wore a fine leather coat and a frilly black cravat, with a black felt tricorn, grey waistcoat, breeches, and black boots. A black leather belt held his fine quality cutlass, and at least two pistols. Being a pirate, you never knew how many weapons he carried on him, hidden in various places of his clothing. If it weren't for his weapons, this man would appear to be a dashing man of society.
But I know otherwise.
"Admiral." he said in his strangely smooth, light voice. He then turned to Chrissy. "A pregnant woman?" he smirked. "Is she yours? It would appear that you've been busy, Admiral. Tell me, which whore house did you steal her from?"
Upon making this statement, the crew snickered and also smirked with their captain.
"Oh wait! Would this happen to be Mrs. Norrington? The jungle woman, is it? She certainly is pretty, Admiral. You did well, I have to admit." he said curtly, tracing Chrissy's neck.
"Don't touch her!" I snarled in a low voice, trying to jerk away from the men that held my arms when she flinched at his touch.
Davis looked at me with amusement, before turning to Chrissy again, roughly seizing her chin to turn her head different angles. "Hmm…you don't seem to be in a demanding position, Admiral." he growled, slapping my wife across the face.
I jerked away from the men again, nearly getting away in my rage. More crew members grabbed at me, however, and I soon had four men holding me just feet from Davis.
"Captain? When do we get our reward?" One of the men from my ship asked.
Davis smirked. "Ahh…about that reward. I'm afraid there isn't one. Since you know of my plans, you are now a threat to me. Gentlemen," he said, turning to three members of his crew. "You know what to do."
The three men that had been aboard my ship were seized, and despite their protests, dragged back onto my ship, then down to the brig. Moments later, the three men from Davis's crew returned quickly, pulling the gangplank up with them.
"Set sail!" Davis bellowed.
In a blur the crew became active, and soon, we were underway. A few yards behind us, my ship exploded in a mass of flames and splinters.
"Now that we've taken care of that little…obstacle, I can turn my full attention to you, now." he smirked, taking in my shocked expression at what he'd just done to my ship and the three men on it.
"I thought you were dead." I growled. "Several people said they saw you, still on your ship, as it was sinking."
"You can't always trust what you hear, Admiral." he smirked, waving a finger in my face. "Now then, where shall we start?" he paused, thinking. "Have you been fed?"
"Not in a week." I replied simply, as though it was no big deal.
He smiled, looking over at Chrissy. "So that means…your baby hasn't been fed either? Alright, I'll make an accord with you. Everyday your on this ship, until we reach our destination, you will be punished with a different form of torture every day. Every time you receive this punishment, your wife will be fed."
"You have an accord." I whispered.
Davis leaned forward, a smirk on his face. "I'm sorry. Come again?"
"You have an accord!" I barked. "But, only if my wife isn't to be harmed, or touched, for that matter, by your crew."
Davis studied me, long and hard. He pursed his lips in thought, then nodded. "Sounds fair enough. Now then, Admiral, get ready for your first form of punishment."
"You agreed that my wife wasn't to be harmed!" I shouted, jerking at the ropes around my wrists that were keeping me secured to the main mast.
"Yes, Admiral, I did! But when one is told not to harm someone, they think you mean not to hurt physically. You didn't say anything about mental harm!" Davis chuckled, securing her wrists to the railing of the starboard side, with rope, ensuring she wouldn't run to me. "You also only said my crew isn't to touch your wife." he sneered, tracing her collar bone.
She stared at me sadly, her gaze dragging to the ropes securing my wrists, seemingly begging them to break so I could attack Davis with my bare hands. But despite my efforts, the binds didn't break…and all I could do was look at her with apologetic eyes.
"My punishment, Davis?" I growled.
He looked over at me with amusement, before sauntering over to me. He removed his jacket, and handed it to a nearby crewmember, who handed him a piece of half-unwound rope. "Now, Admiral, we usually don't use lashing as punishment on our ship. But like I said, you will be receiving different forms of torture." he held the piece of rope up to my face, touching my left temple and cheek, and whispered so that only I could hear, "You're sure about this? You'll just blindly accept being tortured without knowing which method I'll use, just to feed your wife and child?"
I nodded.
He furrowed his brows. "You're willing to duel with death, to risk your life, for those two lives that are just feet from you?"
Again, I only nodded, not wanting to reveal to him what I would endure for the two lives that meant more to me than my very own life. If I did, he certainly would use the most brutal of his methods…some I wouldn't be able to endure.
Davis just smirked, then stood to his full height. "You had your chance, Admiral." he turned to his crew, and my wife. "Now then. Notice that I'm not using a Cat O' Nine Tails, but a simple piece of unwound rope. If we used that on just his first day of torture, I fear he'd get infection, and then we wouldn't be able to torture him to our contentment." he chuckled. "Besides…I didn't want to get my cloths dirty."
At this comment, the crew laughed, and shouted insults at me as Davis rolled up his sleeves.
From my peripheral vision, I saw Davis walk behind me, and raise his right arm…in his hand, the piece of rope. I closed my eyes and clenched my fists, readying myself for the first blow. I heard the rope whistling through the air, then felt the sting of it land between my shoulder blades. My teeth grinded together on the impact, and my eyes flew open in shock at just how hard the man could bring a flimsy piece of rope down on my back. Out of instinct, my arms tried to jerk down to my sides. But, ropes were tied around my wrists, and they were tied high above my head…the rope secured by a nail.
Davis dealt the second blow, this time on the small of my back. I grunted, grinding my teeth, closing my eyes, my arms jerking at the ropes. Another blow landed across my left shoulder, stinging the bare, sensitive skin…my shirt having been removed. I looked over at Chrissy, my face twisted into an expression of pain as another blow landed across the right side of my ribs.
She was crying.
Silent crying…the tears just streaming down her face as she stood and watched, not making a sound. She held back a sob as the rope landed in the center of my back, atop all of the bruises and my swollen cut. This made me flinch worse than the other blows, and I held in a shout. It came out as a muffled whimper, and Davis must have caught it, for he paused before he hit me in the same place. Another muffled cry escaped my lips.
"Go ahead, Admiral. We all want to hear you shout…show us how much pain you're in, and how frustrated you are!" he laughed, hitting me in the same place yet again.
I grunted, this time trying not to hide it…hoping it would be good enough.
"I said cry, Admiral! Scream! Give up your pride like all of us aboard this ship have! Come along, Pirate Hunter! If you don't scream, I may have to drop my end of the bargain, and not feed your wife, allow her to be harmed more. Scream!"
He drew his arm back further, and swung harder, hitting me in the center of my back again. I screamed out in pain, releasing my frustration in it. Another blow came, this one to my upper back and part of the base of my neck, and I yelled in agony at the stinging sensation it brought.
Nine more blows came, and I screamed every time the rope hit me. After those blows, Davis tossed the rope into the ocean surrounding us, and requested that one of the crew cut the rope off of my wrists. Footsteps drew near, and soon I saw a knife being pressed to my bonds. Either the sailor was reckless, or just deliberately wanted to, or both, he allowed his knife to slice not only my bonds but my wrists as well. I felt the warm liquid trailing down my forearms just before I was shoved to the deck.
I landed in a heap, like a rock to the wooden surface, and was met by a foot in the stomach. I grunted in response, and tried to curl up into a ball. It did no good, for I felt kicks to my back as well.
"Stop!" I heard Chrissy shriek, just before feeling her hands on my chest and left shoulder. "Can't you see he's had enough? Leave him alone!"
"She's right, lads." Davis said. "I gave no orders for anymore punishment to be dealt to the Admiral. Like I said, we don't want him too worn out. Off with you now, except a few to drag the Admiral, and his wife, to the brig."
James groaned, pressing his face harder against my left upper leg. I pressed my back against the left wall of our cell, and shifted my legs, trying to help him get more comfortable. He's laying between my sprawled legs, his broad shoulders between my lower thighs, the back of his head gently touching the side of my belly.
He groaned again, flinging his right arm over my leg, grabbing my hand and squeezing it. With my free hand, I began stroking his temple, and cheek, trying to calm him. My fingers strayed to his neck, accidentally brushing one of the places he'd been whipped. He flinched, and hissed.
"I'm sorry, James. I didn't mean to hurt you." I said softly, directing my hand to his hair. "I'm so, so sorry, for all of this." I whispered, regretfully.
I looked up upon hearing our cell door open, not realizing until then that someone had been standing there. He looked to be a young man, maybe a bit taller than me. His grey eyes were strangely soft, seemingly sad as he gazed at us. His auburn hair was almost completely covered by a faded green bandana, the article of clothing seeming to stick out from the rest of his clothing. His shirt was dyed a deep blue, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his pants were black, tucked into dark brown boots. Yes, the faded green bandana stood out from his dark clothing.
He closed the cell door behind him, and held a tray out in front of him that was covered with a piece of cloth. "I've brought you food." he said quietly, his voice soft and smooth as he set the tray down on the floor by our joined hands. "More than was meant to be brought to you." he whispered, removing the cloth. "There's enough there for both of you, and it's important that you finish it all, so no one will get suspicious." he picked up two of the three white rags, and unfolded them. "These two rags have a creamy medicine on them, for Admiral Norrington's wounds. It'll rub on clear, and look like pus, also so no one will be suspicious. It should sooth the stinging, and help them to heal faster." he finished, setting them back on the tray.
James looked up at the young man with narrowed eyes, trying to look aggressive despite his pain. "Why…why are you…h-helping us?" he said through breaths.
The young man smiled. "I'm not a pirate, sir. I was press ganged into this crew when they raided the port I lived in. I don't like the way they've been treating your wife, sir, or you, and I want to help."
I studied the young man, gazing at his soft eyes. He didn't appear to be lying, and his eyes seemed completely honest.
"I think we can trust him, James." I whispered to my husband, who was still looking suspiciously at the lad.
"Please, sir. Only a few years ago, my mother was pregnant with my little sister, and I know that your baby needs nourishment…much more nourishment than it has been getting. If you want your baby to be born healthy, you have to accept my help." he pointed out.
James furrowed his brows, studying the young man. "How old are you, lad? You can't be more than sixteen?"
"I'm fifteen, sir. I was kidnapped by one of the crew members when I was but twelve. I was brought on to be a cabin boy. I know how to get around the crew, and the captain. I know where the delicacies of food are kept on this ship, and I can sneak you supplies when needed." he said eagerly.
James peered up at me through his bruised, bloodshot right eye. "He's just a lad, Dear." he whispered.
"But he wants to help. He's our only chance if we want our child to survive." I reminded him, almost desperately.
When James closed his eyes, I knew he was sorting through his options…which were few. He sighed, then opened his eyes again. "Alright, lad. We'll accept your help. Just keep in mind, you can't make it obvious. Don't act more anxious or excited than you usually do, and don't let anyone see you sneaking things. It'll be the death of the four of us if you mess things up." he said, trying to make it sound like a command, but it came out in a pained whisper.
The lad nodded, a grin pulling at his lips. "Yes, sir. I'll not mess this up! You'll be impressed, Admiral."
With a nod at both of us, he got up, and began to turn.
"Wait!" I called softly, catching his hand. "Do you have a name?"
"My name is Oliver, miss." he said with a smile.
"Oliver." I repeated. "Thank you, Oliver. You've no idea how much we appreciate this." I whispered sincerely, smiling genuinely for the first time in days.
Oliver bowed. "I'll not disappoint you Mrs. Norrington, Admiral Norrington. I must be off now, they'll be wondering what I'm doing down here."
He kissed the top of my hand, and bowed to James, who nodded in return. With one last smile, he turned and locked the cell door behind him, before putting on a realistic looking sneer as he went topside.
Yippie for Oliver! By the way, what do you think of young Oliver? Please review! Thanks!