Part 1: Sometimes I Take Seriousness Humorously


Notes:

Obviously I do not own the franchise. This is an AU because Norrington didn't have to die and because I can.

I'm doing my damnedest to not make Charlie into a sexy lamp and to not make this just some incredibly boring rewrite of the movies.

I promise when you see Part 1 before the chapter names, it's on purpose! The idea is that Part 1 is the first movie, Part 2, the second, and Part 3 is the third.

Many thank yous to Jes and Rell, my eyes and ears on this.

Chapter titles taken from the Principia Discordia. It just felt appropriate. Fnord. Hail Eris, Hail yes.


Whoever had recommended Port Royal was going to hang the next time Charlie LaChance found them. A gunshot rangout behind her and the side of the house next to her sprayed rock on the ground and her jacket. Ducking around a corner, she muttered, "oh, wait, Port Royal was my excellent idea." Drunk Charlie had thought a wee vacation would do her a world of good, but instead of relaxing in Tortuga with rum in hand, Sober Charlie was running for her life from the Royal Navy. All the boats in the last port looked the same when it was the middle of the night and the man who had (unknowingly) supplied her drink had enough in his bottle to knock out an elephant or seven.

Port Royal was not exactly friendly to pirates, from the bodies hung in warning by the shipyard to the large Royal Navy presence. Sober Charlie would have made sure to avoid it.

"Drunk Charlie can hang," she grumbled, checking the alley for a way out. Every door she ran past was bolted. It was hard to tell what would await her at the other end of the alley, but it had to be better than the Royal Navy behind her.

As if in reminder another shot rang out against the stone to her left. "Time to make a run for it." Times like this made her grateful she had not worn dresses since she left home.

Her given surname must have been ironic. The second she left the alley she ran face-first into a stern-looking man in a Naval Captain's uniform. "Going somewhere?"

"I don't suppose you're offering to let me get a drink at the tavern?" she asked with a bright grin. "Or to buy me one?"

The Captain avoided her eyes, but she could have sworn she saw mirth in the smirk he wore. Instead of answering, he grabbed her wrists and clapped them in irons. "In two days time, you will hang for your crimes."

"And what crimes might they be?"

"Theft, for one."

"Captain, is one roll of bread really worth my life?"

He leaned in close and slowly slid the sleeve of her shirt up, revealing her pirate brand and a tattoo of two stylised Ls. It had been many years since she had the mirrored image tattooed on her to represent the surname she had earned. Very few knew the surname given to her by birth. "You tell me, Pirate," he growled. "Take her away!"

"Great," she muttered to herself as her escorts circled closely and walked her to the jail. At least, she supposed, she was afforded the dignity of walking there herself instead of being carried or dragged. The pirate brand was evidently enough to allow her to swing without a trial, but would the Captain look into her tattoo to find out who she was or let her hang on the brand alone?

The soldiers marched her through the entrance to the fort and into the depths of the jail as she took in every detail around her - most notably the gallows. They were set up in the centre of the fort. There was no way she would get to the gallows and out alone. She would have to make her escape before.

The jail itself, built into the fort, looked much like any other jail she had been in - dark, dirty, and filled with all manner of reprobates. There was a single empty cell and the rest were crowded. If she had to guess, it was because the occupants were recently...well, they were certainly no longer in the land of the living.

The soldiers shoved her into the empty cell, amongst lewd comments and whistles from the men the next cell over.

"Oh, excellent service and a sea view!" she exclaimed as she looked out into the port below. "Gentlemen, I thank you. I shall be sure to leave a tip before my departure."

While the soldiers did not rise to the occasion, one of the men in the next cell over offered to give her his tip. "No, thank you," she shot back. "I'm afraid I don't take from those ill-equipped to give."

Ignoring the hoots and hollers that followed, she laid down in her cell to contemplate her escape.


The next day while she was watching with amusement as the men in the next cell tried to get the dog to come, a familiar voice echoed down the stairs, protesting his arrest. A chorus of groans rose up when the voices scared off the dog.

"Tell it to the noose tomorrow," one of the soldiers shot back, sounding exhausted. She could not blame him - Jack Sparrow arguing his way out of a situation would be enough to exhaust even the most stalwart of men and women.

"Looks like you'll get a cellmate after all, miss," another soldier sniggered, taking the set of keys from his belt. "Now you stay back there."

Allowing a smirk to spread slowly across her face, she asked, "Why? Are you afraid I'm going to charge you, steal your gun, and escape?" The look on his face was priceless. She wished she had a way to enshrine it forever in her memory. "Wouldn't be prudent in the middle of the day, now, would it?"

"Maybe your last night on God's green Earth won't be so bad," the first one laughed, shoving Jack Sparrow down the last few stairs. "Why are you just standing there?"

"I think she's going to try to escape."

The other soldier laughed. "Through both of us and the entire garrison?"

"...maybe?"

"Just open the door," the other guard sighed. "Enjoy your last evening, Sparrow."

Jack raised an eyebrow at the sight of her as he approached the door. "Captain Sparrow," he corrected. "And I doubt it. She's just as like to kill me as you are, mate."

Charlie suppressed a smile. Jack knew she would not kill him, just as he knew they would escape before the soldiers could send them to the gallows.

"Well, maybe she'll save us some time and rope, then. In you go."

Jack stumbled a little as the guard who shoved him giggled with delight before slamming the cell door shut and retreating back up the stairs. The other guard hung Jack's effects, then followed his colleague.

"Fancy meeting you here, Jack."

Years of knowing Jack Sparrow taught her that his grin meant he was up to something. Whether she would benefit from it or not remained to be seen. "And what's brought you to this fine establishment, love?"

"Too much rum and the wrong ship in the dark of night."

Jack looked over his shoulders, checking to make sure they were not overheard. "Sunken dinghy," he whispered dramatically. The sound of the men in the next cell calling the dog resumed and Jack turned abruptly towards the noise. "How long's that been going on for?"

"Longer than I've been here, I imagine," she shrugged.

He leaned closer to her to whisper, "Should we tell them?"

Charlie grinned. "And ruin the only entertainment in this place?"

With an ear to ear grin and a dramatic turn around the cell, Jack asked in a louder voice, "So when do they serve dinner? I'm starving!"