~Chapter Four~
God, this chapter took forever. Portraying Angelica's character before corruption drove me up the wall, as I wanted her to maintain her dignity. This is a long chapter, hope it's interesting enough to hold your attention. Just a quick note; I give a reference to "King Philip's most trusted agent's mistress" within the story, this is the character of "The Spaniard" in OST, and he appears to have no other name. King Ferdinand was not ruling during this time, hence "King Philip". I have mentioned these characters for a reason, so remember them for the coming chapters.
I would like to thank anyone who has read my story, and most especially my reviewers, for they mean a great deal to me. Many, many, many thanks to:
Angelica fan, Arrows the Wolf, valenelle, Sup234 and potc. You guys give me the guts to actually post this.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
All was quiet around the convent, not a single flicker of light was visible nor any sign of human presence. To Jack, he saw the convent as a prison, a barricade from the freedoms that the sea so willingly offered. He gazed up at the highly walled building, the clay bricks towering up above him. Making his way around to the Iron Gate, he used the bars as footholds as he climbed over the barricade. Landing with his feet on the ground, he found the entrance to the convent. He was unsure which room would be Angelica's; but he had a feeling novitiates were allocated rooms on the lower floors, and were sorted according to age. In that case, she wouldn't take long to find. Jack was grateful for the darkness with the absence of much light from the moon; only a sliver was left visible in the sky. He stalked through the corridors, peering into each keyhole to find Angelica. Most of the occupants of the convent had already turned in for the night, only a couple of rooms were left with any illumination. After searching every almost single room on the first floor, his endurance was soon rewarded.
Her room was dark, with a singular candle burning away. Jack crept inside, muting the scuff of his boots. Angelica sat in the corner of the poorly furbished room, surrounded by stacks of books sorted by category. The candle had been placed centrally, allowing enough light for her reading. Jack quickly repeated the plan to himself. He believed himself to be a master of stealth, and managed to discreetly hide himself in the small right-hand corner of the room, his figure protected by the dim light and a large bookcase. He watched her continue to read for a moment, taking the time to study her facial features. Her lips were blood red, her eyes riveting to any who crossed under their gaze. She had tied her hair back into a loose ponytail, with only a few strands tucked back behind her ear. If Angelica hadn't already conveniently let slip she was a novitiate, he would have assumed her to be King Philip's most trusted agent's mistress. However, she did not seem to fit into her situation, making Jack curious to know more. After hovering for a while longer in the shadows, he sought to make his presence known.
He began to strut forth, confident in his entrance. He started to open his mouth to speak, when Angelica cut him off. "I already know you are there." She started. "Hello Jack. I thought I may see you tonight." Jack stood speechless. He turned back to look at the door, gesturing with his fingers, simulating his entry. Fingers pointed, he turned back around, facing Angelica, taken quite aback. "How do you know my name?" Jack questioned, quite stunned. Angelica chuckled, moving her attention from her book to Jack's face, where she intensely stared him in the eyes. "Oh please, you are an infamous pirate, your name is plastered on wanted posters all over town. Did you not realise you had arrived in Spain, one of the dominating catholic capitals of the world?" Jack was thrown by her forwardness. He had never known a woman to be so direct, a fiery temper edging with every spoken word. Her accent was thick, her eyes narrowed, her piercing gaze appeared to see right through Jack. Jack was left with nothing to do but stare. His plan had been disintegrated by her brazenness.
Disregarding all his tricks and strategies, and with much self-restraint, he pulled a serious tone. "I need to take a look at that manuscript you have." Angelica nodded in understanding, pulling the manuscript onto her lap, flicking through the ornate pages. "I wonder how much gold I would receive for handing you over..." Angelica pondered. She had no intention of doing so, but given how she had been so easily seduced the previous night, she strived to keep the upper hand of dominance in the situation. She gave him a look, hinting a sly smile at the corner of her blood red lips. Jack scoffed, privately amused. "Don't flatter yourself, darling. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow; I give nothing up easily." He said smugly, his arms placed wide to add to the effect. Angelica directed her attention back to the manuscript. "Neither do I." Her phrase deliberately structured as a final note on the subject, leaving Jack to wonder how futile his developments were.
Jack glanced around the room. Resting up against the wall was a wooden framed bed, which Jack proceeded towards, sprawling himself out on the mattress. "Well, Angelica. I am afraid I will not be taking my leave until I get what I want." Despite the fact that Jack was currently invading her room, she felt surprisingly comfortable in his presence. He had angered her greatly by manipulating her the previous night, and she was determined not to let that manuscript pass into his hands. She knew she would have to be tricky, so she made sure she stayed in control of the situation. "Why do you want it so badly?" Angelica inquired, keeping her tone as straight as possible. "Ha, thought that might come up, but as I noted previously, I do not give anything up easily." Angelica silenced, keeping back a scathing retort.
Jack browsed around the room, taking note of Angelica's belongings. The whole room was sparse. Apart from the collection of books and manuscripts arranged around the room, not much remained. He turned his attention to the to the bedside table, which was littered with numerous trinkets. A collector, thought Jack. Just like him. Sitting up, he watched as Angelica stood up, careful to avoid kicking over the many organised piles of books and manuscripts. Her hands were placed on her hips, as she eyed him suspiciously. "Tell me, Angelica." Jack begun; trying hard to formulate a new plan. "How does a girl like you come to live in a convent?" Angelica paused, her jaw dropped slightly, giving a displeased expression to Jack. "A girl like me?" Angelica glared at him. "Pendejo" she muttered under her breath. Jack watched as her temper escalated. Her mouth slightly ajar, ready to spit out another insult at any moment, he realised how beautiful she looked when she was angered. Jack gave a smirk. "Well now, I have never known such a woman with an attitude such as yours to be cooped up in a convent." Jack could see he was getting on her nerves.
She portrayed herself to be so guarded, so hard to figure; but Jack saw many traits within her that he himself employed to protect himself. "Ignorante bastardo." She huffed. "Look Sparrow, this wasn't my choice." She said, gesturing around the room. Her harsh stare seemed to disintegrate before him, as though Jack had revealed a spot of vulnerability. Jack reconsidered for a moment. "Ah, you desire freedom." He grinned. Jack watched as she walked over to the window. Yes, she did desire freedom. Living in a convent made her anything but free. She was barred, barred from everything she craved, and when she took her vowels she would be even less connected to what she desired. She knew she must be grateful for what she had, for Christianity, for the convent, for giving her everything she held most dear; but her spirit desired much more than what fate had provided her.
Jack slid off the bed and walked over to her, coming up behind her and placing his hands on her shoulders. His close proximity sent uncomfortable shivers up her spine. "Then why should you not seek what you desire?" She knew from the moment Jack put his hands on her, she lost her will to maintain dominance. She felt comfortable within his presence, despite the logical part of her brain screaming for her to remain guarded, she could not help but feel willing to open up to him. "I am bound here." She stated somewhat glumly, as she walked over and sat down on the bed. Jack furrowed his brow, confused. "Bound? Surely not; for you haven't yet taken your vowels." He said as Jack moved to sit down next to her on the bed. Angelica gave a half-hearted sigh. "It's not that simple, Jack." She gave a slight pause, resting her head back against the wall. She was weary, tired of this restricted existence. "Do explain." He was curious to know more. "There's nothing much to tell." She countered, picking up a ring from the bedside table and toying with it in her hands. Jack stared at her, and she caught his gaze.
"I don't have much of a story, Jack. My mother found refuge here, and when she died during childbirth, religion was all I had. Everything I know is Christianity." Jack gave her a sympathetic look, before gesturing at the many piles of books arranged around the room. "Ha, but by the looks of things you want to know more." God, she was a riddle. He may have only just met her, but she was a walking contradiction. She battled within herself, to find herself. Never, in all his experiences with women, had he come across one quite so complicated. After a long silence, Angelica slowly replied. "Well, yes. They saved my life, the sisters. Without them, I am nothing. I owe them a great deal, Jack." Jack let silence once again fall between them. "Your father?" He kept his tone low, as not to encourage her temper, and somehow gain her trust. She grimaced, shaking her head slightly, biting her lip. Jack realised he should not delve into her past, as it held nothing but unpleasant memories and a great deal of uncertainty.
Suddenly, he realised he had singlehandedly deconstructed her barriers without even trying. He felt somehow relatable to her, but at the same time so different. The way she desired freedom was so much like him; but he would never feel bound to anything and never allow anything to prevent him from searching for that freedom. He glanced around the room again, noticing how organised she was. Those books that littered the floor were much like his efforts to locate the cursed treasure of Cortez. That spirit in her that sought for answers, that way she collected trinkets was much like himself. Hidden within her contradictions and boundaries he could see potential, to follow her will. He knew that her will could be strong, and overpower all the rest. Dare he say it, within her, he saw a bit of pirate. All at once, he had this intense will to be close to her, to understand her, and to feel her, see who she really was. It was only too obvious to know he was attracted to her physically, but there was something else in there, he couldn't quite figure.
She glanced at him, not registering how intently he was staring at her, before she turned back to him. He was unbelievably close to her, and he watched her tense up at his close proximity, as she returned his gaze. She felt so open, so unguarded. She noticed him move further towards her, at an incredibly slow rate. Her head began to spin, as all rational thoughts seemed utterly unimportant. He moved his hands around, placing one on each side of her, at the mercy of his will. No matter how much she knew it was wrong, no matter how many times she thought of the consequence, she wanted to. She watched him, fully aware of the situation and her place in it, as he moved his body even closer to hers. He felt drawn to her. He moved his chest forward, resting his weight onto his hands, as she rested herself on her elbows. He paused for a moment. He studied her facial features, from her parted lips, to her softened skin, to those eyes, which gazed at him so openly. He didn't think he was capable of waiting any longer, so he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers.
In that moment, everything went away. All those ambiguities, abolished within the sensation. All that mattered to her was how gentle he was with her, how his facial hair tickled at her skin, how she felt happiness that seemed to burst forth from within her in that moment. She drew back, eager to catch a breath, and to look into his eyes. They were dark with desire. She felt a little scared, as she was entering into unknown territory, where she knew he had ventured far beyond countless times before. He caught her lips again, pulling her ever closer. She felt dazed by the sensations he was illiciting from her. He brought his hand up to her cheek, caressing her soft flesh. He made sure he was gentle with her, and despite his intense hunger, he kept his pace slow, savouring every moment.
Without breaking the kiss, he laid them both down onto the bed. Jack had never thought this was all possible, these sensations were only achieved during much more intimate relations, and even then, those failed to match. These ones only continued to intensify. He deepened the kiss a little, as she unsuccessfully suppressed a moan. He revelled in the way she was reacting to her, the way she went so willingly with him. He brought his hand up to her neck, caressing her skin all the way down to her collarbone. Their embraces became longer and longer, until Angelica was left gasping for breath. "Jack" she struggled to whisper through kisses; pushing her hands against his chest in an effort to push him away. "Mmm?" he groaned, hoping desperately this was not his cue to stop. "Jack, we have to stop."
With great restraint, he pushed himself away off her, bringing himself back up to sitting position. She followed him up. She was flushed from her cheeks all the way down to her collarbone, all the places he had caressed, her lips had swelled and were even redder than before; her eyes were darkened with lust and fixed upon his. "Jack, I have never done this before." Her breathing was still ragged, as she whispered into his ear. He looked at her. That fiery temper had disintegrated, and she was left with nothing more than curiosity. She curled up close to him, resting her head in the crook of his neck. "¿Cómo puede algo que se siente tan bien, tan mal?" She sighed, breathing in his scent, smelling deeply of rum and salt. "English, love. I cannot understand a word of your fancy tongue." She gave a slight chuckle, placing a light kiss onto his prominent jawline. "I said, how can something that feels so right, be so wrong." Jack raised a hand up to toy with her hair.
"Ha, well you have chosen a chaste life, valuing your God higher than anything else." He gave a slight pause, before continuing. "Well, you haven't quite chosen it quite yet." She settled against him, biting her lip down hard in thought. "I don't know if I can still choose it…" Her expression was dark and full of worry. She closed her eyes for a minute, allowing her mind to be at peace, stifling a yawn in the process. Jack noticed how tired she was. He glanced out the window. Many of the town square's lanterns had been doused for the night, the level of noise outside the convent slowly quieting. The sky was pitch black, and there was no longer any distinction between the sky and the sea. Jack laid her down into the bed, pulling up the sheets up around her. She clung onto his shirt, and pulled him down with her. "Stay with me." She whispered into his ear through his thick dreadlocks, her breath down his neck causing him the most delightful and persuasive chills. He was willing to oblige, and brought her up to press tightly against his body. She moved to entangle her hand in his, and he held it tightly. Her legs were entwined with his own, her bare feet brushing against the fabric of his boots. Her head rested into the crook of his neck, as he listened to the pace of her breaths slow, as she gradually fell asleep.
He knew he should have been focusing on that manuscript, but something in his mind would not rest. He knew he was physically attracted to her, for that was only too obvious by his physical reactions to her. He was confident in the fact that he was more than capable of seducing her for his pleasures, but there was something more. Something that made him unsure of his very certainties. He looked at the girl laying next to him. Even in sleep, she looked troubled. Her brow was furrowed and her jaw slightly ajar. He couldn't help but feel responsible for her worries. Yes, he felt sure she had previous doubts about devoting herself to Christianity; she had voiced that herself, though he had narrowed her choice greatly. He knew she could no longer take her vowels, because of his actions. He felt her stir next to him, and took a moment to appreciate her beauty; finding it difficult to focus on much else when he looked at her. He found it hard to comprehend that beneath her soft features laid a fiery temper, capable of leaving him utterly speechless, and Jack was always one with some form of opinion. But right now, that temper rested, and he was incredibly grateful for that. Jack felt drained, and closed his eyes for a minute.
Jack awoke with a start, raising his head up slightly to familiarise himself with his surroundings. For a moment, he half expected to be in a brothel, but the walls were un-stained and his crotch remained dry. After a sudden realisation that he was lying with Angelica, his mind darted immediately to Barbossa. He didn't exactly want to think about him while lying in bed with a woman, but he knew he must get to those manuscripts. He glanced over to Angelica to verify she remained asleep, before carefully untangling her body from his, and raising himself out of the bed. She stirred, but only pulled the sheets up around her body tighter, and resigned to her slumber. Assuming himself to be safe, he looked around the room. The candle had well burnt out, and the night sky had just begun to lighten with the beginning of dawn. He scanned the room for the manuscript. He had not seen where Angelica had last put it down, though he was confident it must be around the area she had been reading in.
Dodging the many piles of books, he searched amongst them. "Where is it…?" He muttered to himself, irritated. Probing around under the wooden frame of the bed, the manuscript was most definitely nowhere to be seen. He stood up, and tiptoed over to the bookshelf. Searching the titles carefully, he looked around in hopelessness. "It's not here, Jack." Angelica muttered, her eyes reduced to slits in fatigue. Jack turned on his heel, in surprise. "What? What isn't?" He watched as Angelica gave him smug grin, and closed her eyes again. "You won't find it." Jack groaned in frustration. He needed that manuscript, not just for himself, but also for Barbossa. He knew his crew would follow him in their greed, though without progress he knew they would soon find their own avenues to continue the quest.
"Bugger." Jack stated, scratching his head. Angelica rolled over so as not to face him, hiding the wide smile plastered on her face. Jack turned to the door, knowing he must take his leave quickly before the many inhabitants of the convent started to make their presence known. Turning the knob, he heard Angelica speak. "I know you will be back." Her tone was passive, showing not the slightest trace of emotion. Jack glanced down at the hilt of his pistol, which was secured into his sash, considering a more persuasive method of influence. Realising it was futile; he took his leave, making his way down the corridor of the convent.
Angelica turned around, to ensure he was gone, before untangling herself from the bed sheets and standing up onto the bed, balancing herself on the mattress. She took off a chain from around her neck, which secured a key. She reached up, and applied the key to a small keyhole within the ceiling, allowing the hidden compartment door open. Extending her arm inside, she fumbled around in the opening until her hand came into contact with the old, torn pages of the manuscript. With a sly grin, she sat herself down on the bed and began flicking through the pages to find her last reading point.
~End of Chapter Four~
Translations: Pendejo - Asshole/Coward
Ignorante bastardo - Ignorant Bastard
So there we are. Four chapters down, only another twenty or so chapters to go. Go me. I hope Angelica didn't appear too out of character, as I never saw her as a weak person, and wanted her corruption to be as dignified as possible, so I'm dragging it out as much as I can.
Thankyou very much for reading!
If you review, I will give you a cookie :3 xoxo