Honor
Shivering, Johnathan paused in his work as he watched the small island they had been searching for finally appeared in the mist. They had been traveling for days, with him work odd jobs almost ever second, from delivering food to the ships captive to picking up knives that the crew threw at a makeshift target. Even now, he was scrubbing the deck, his hands and knee's sore and red. Even though he had been expecting work - after all, he did agree to be a cabin boy - he never thought there would be this much to do.
"How ya doing, kid?"
Looking up, Johnathan shrugged. "Alright, I guess," he mumbled to Blanchet, holding back a smile. The pirate seemed to be always carefully looking over him, keeping the rowdier pirates away from him even though he was always saying to the rest of the crew how he hated watching over a brat. He seemed like the protective big brother that he never had.
"How much longer till we reach that island?" Johnathan went on, nodding towards their destination.
Bentley looked towards the island, tilting his head to the side in thought. "An hour at best till we can find a place that's not too shallow to land in," he finally said with a short nod. "Then maybe half an hour in the rowboats."
"Do you think the Captain will let me come along?" asked Johnathan hesitantly. Even though he loved life on the water, despite the horrible crew, he would be happy to see land again, even if it was only breifly.
"I don't see a reason for him not to, but who knows what on the Captain's mind." Bentley smirked. "Though I suppose he'll be easier to ask since we're close to breakin' our curse."
"Has it really been thirteen years?" Johnathan asked, remembering what both Bentley and Barbossa had told him.
The smirk disappeared, and Bentley nodded. "Yah... I'll be happy to have this curse lifted from me... I haven't seen my family since I joined the Pearl - they probably think I'm dead," he said rather dismissively.
"You have a family?" Johnathan said, his eyes going a little wider. He didn't really think pirates had families.
"Yup. I never got married, myself," aid Bentley with a shrug. "I never found the right bird. But I have a little sister who married this tailor had this wonderful little girl 'fore I left for piracy." The French pirate smiled a little, but there was a look of sadness in his eyes that made Johnathan glance towards the deck. "Named her Rene. She's as pretty as her mum."
"I'm sorry," mumbled Johnathan. "I didn't mean to..." He didn't mean to bring up such sad thoughts, especially after all the man had done to help him.
With a roll of his eyes, Bentley mumbled something French under his breathe before he leaned down and ruffled Johnathan's hair, making him yelp in surprise. "Don't apologize for stupid things, kid." He said firmly. "I think 'bout them everyday. And aye, it makes me sad each time, but hell, it one of the only things that keeps me sane during all this. Now don't worry about me problems and keep workin', alright? You don't wanna get in trouble with the Captain."
"Yes, sir," Johnathan answered with a nod before going back to scrubbing the deck, his arms moving without thought as his mind began to wandered. Bentley talking about his sister made him think about Isabelle. From what his mother gleefully told him, his sister was to be married off to someone in the Navy. He already knew that it would take a miracle for her to like whoever it was, but he also wondered if she would have any children. And if so, would he ever see his nieces or nephews? Probably not, if he continued to be a pirate... Same thing for actually having kids.
Finishing up the deck almost an hour later, Johnathan struggled to put away his cleaning supplies while trying to wince at every little pain. He'd never worked so hard or so long in his life. There had always been servants to do the cleaning in the house. It showed just how spoiled he was raised.
"Drop the anchor!" called out the familiar voice of Barbossa, and the crew rushed about trying to fulfill his command. Trying to stay out the way, Johnathan leaned against the railing and stared out at the island, shivering again. He suddenly had a bad feeling about this place...
"Johnny!"
Startled, Johnathan turned towards the voice, trying to stand tall as Barbossa came towards him. "Y-Yes, Captain Barbossa?"
"Blanchet says ya be wanting to come along to the island," Barbossa said with a nod towards the man, working the ropes. "Ya'll be ridden with me then. I be expectin' ya to watch over Jack, 'ere," he said while petting the monkey on his shoulder. "He have a habit of wanderin' off and stealing shiny things. Make sure he don't take another gold coin, understand?"
"Yes, sir," said Johnathan with a nod, bracing himself when Jack leaped onto his shoulder, chattering and wrapping his tail around his neck. He'd gotten what he wanted, but now that he had it, he wasn't sure he wanted it...
Isabelle rubbed her eyes as she stared down at the map in front of her, stolen from the nearby bookshelf, and ignored the way the words and pictures swimming in front of her. It had been three days since they left Tortuga, and since she couldn't work along side the crew - after all, what did she know about ships - she was forced to stay inside the captains quarters and out of the way.
Well, maybe not forced. More like it was a self inflicted confinement.
No matter the reason, there was little for her to do out there. And even less for her to inside the room. The books looked inviting, but they were all empty logs, or more maps, and so on. Practice with her sword was rather useless without a partner, and she could only sharpen it so long. Nothing there to keep her mind off the fact that her little brother had been missing for almost a week, captured by the worse kind of pirates. Nothing to distract her from the fact that she was going to marry a man that would never love her, always pining over another woman. Or the fact that she was never going to get the freedom she desperately wanted.
Letting out a loud and long groan, Isabelle slumped forward, letting her forehead hit the desk with a thud. She need something, anything to distract her. The closest thing she had to something like that was when Jack brought her meals three times, reminding her that she still had to eat. And if she didn't something soon, she was going to go insane.
Finally deciding what to do, Isabelle switched her skirt for her trousers, grabbed her scabbard, and finally left the room for the first time in days.
Some of the men were working on simple task, but much was being done since the wind was doing most of the work for them. Everyone was chatting or playing with cards, which Isabelle noted for later. Ignoring it for now, she looked for one man in particular - and found him near the wheel, glancing down at his ever present compass.
"Sparrow!" Isabelle finally called out, earning not just his gaze, but almost everyone else around.
"Oh, look who finally came out of her room," teased Sparrow her with a smirk. "What can I do for you, my lady?"
As the other members of the crew chuckled, but Isabelle ignored them as she stood straight, placed her hands on her hips, and answered firmly, "I challenge you to a duel, Mr. Sparrow."
That shut everyone up instantly. All the eyes on her grew wider before they all snapped their gazes towards their captain, waiting with bated breath for what his answer would be. Of course, Isabelle already knew what he would say.
"... Why not?" Sparrow finally said with a shrug as he started making his way down to the deck. "We never did finish our fight from before, did we?" he went on as he shrugged off his coat.
"Now wait a minute - Isabelle, what are you doing?" asked James as he came forward, glancing between her and Jack. "You don't know how to duel! This is dangerous!"
At that, Sparrow snorted. "You really don't think that sword at her hip is for decoration, do you? Oh wait, it could be. Women and their fashion..."
Rolling her eyes at that jab, Isabella didn't turn to her fiance as she pulled her hair into high ponytail, ignoring the wolf whistles that suddenly went around. "What do you think I was doing the other night with this sword?" she said as finished tying back her hair with a strip of leather. "When I came to you blood and cut up, where do you think I got them from? I was fighting, James. I know how to use a sword, and right now, the best thing I can do without going out of my mind is use it."
It seemed that James had nothing to say, and Isabelle turned back to Sparrow. "I don't think we need seconds. To first blood or to when ones of us gives up?"
Nodding, Sparrow turned to the crowd around them, who had all started to mutter among themselves. "Arabelle, would you mind being the judge?"
"Not at all," Arabelle said, stepping forward. "This should be interesting."
"Don't want she's thinkin'. Captain's obviously gonna win," muttered Gibbs.
"Wanna bet on it?" said Will surprisingly, and in a matter of seconds, the crew was betting on who would win the match. Since no one really had any money, they betted on their share of rum and other things like it. Excitement filled the air, and gave Isabelle a rush of energy as she drew her sword. Putting aside her scabbard, she shifted into the stance that had been drilled into her since she fist started swordplay.
"Ready?"
"Ready," Jack answered, his own sword drawn, moving into his own stance.
"And... start!" said Arabelle briskly.
Both stepped forward at the same time, their swords meeting with a clang that filled the sea. Sparrow was forced to fall back for only a moment before he advanced on her, swords meeting while Isabelle stepped back once. He attacked with a wild swing, which Isabelle easily avoided and jabbed at his chest. "Sloppy," she sneered as they separated.
"Well excuse me for not having "proper" training," Sparrow shot at her before Isabelle leaped forward, both swords canceling each others attack out as they meet. With quick shuffles, the two moved back and forth as they attacked or blocked, like waves on the beach, as they both were determined to mark the other and win the fight. And the cheers that surrounded them only pushed them further.
Separating for a brief moment, Isabelle took that break to take in her opponent. Just like her, sweat was now shining on his skin, and both were panting for breath. To end this quickly, she had to find his weak spot and use it to her advantage - yet so far, she couldn't find one.
"Like what you see, love?" said Sparrow when he noticed her gaze.
"Hardly," snapped Isabelle before they meet again, fashioned steel the only separating the two. Pushing each other away, Isabelle swiped at Sparrow's legs, eyes narrowing when he jumped out of each just in time, but not having time to dwell on it before striking out again.
"You aren't too bad," said Sparrow a few moments later as she dodged his own attack.
"The same to you, Mr. Sparrow," said Isabelle with a stiff nod.
"How many years have you - shit - studied?" asked Sparrow while leaping back, avoiding a nasty slice to the stomach.
"Since I could pick up a sword," Isabelle answered with a smirk. "It's the one thing that my father's actually proud of."
Circling each other, they moved smoothly and slowly, each step deliberate before they attacked. Their swords lashed out in a flurry, almost looking like multiple lighting strikes before they went still, studying each other before attacking again. When they flurry finally ended, the crew was shocked to see the end of Isabelle's sword dangerously close to Sparrow's neck.
"Give up?" asked Isabelle with a tilt of her head, a smile on her lips and her dark eyes cold and calculating, yet also dancing with an inner fire. Suddenly, she looked very dangerous to the crew, and some of those close to her stepped back.
"... I don't think so." Making a daring move, Jack slid his sword down Isabelle's, causing the swords to give a strange cry. It came dangerously close to cutting her hand, forcing her to step back and give him the room he needed to attack her again. And then they were dancing again, moving together as if they'd done this many times before.
"This has gotta end soon, love," said Sparrow with a small shake of his head. "I'm not as young as I use to be."
"Stop calling me that," snapped Isabelle.
"Only if you win," decided Sparrow as he stepped forward, swords clashing together.
"I'll keep you to that," said Isabelle with a grin.
"Course you will, love," teased Sparrow. "And I'll get something as well, mm?"
"Only if you win," Isabelle repeated before they attacked each other again, only to leap apart when they thought they might be harmed.
"She's good," muttered Arabelle on the sidelines, glancing over at the silent Commodore to see what he thought of his fiancee. He was simply staring, watching Isabelle as if seeing her in a new light.
Sparrow suddenly shot forward, as if ready to run passed her, but Isabelle wasn't going to let that happen. With a few simple movement of her feet, she was twisting away, taking what she learned from the dance lessons forced on her. Hair whipping at her face, she meet the sword that came at her with a clang, both the swords crying out. Both pirate and lady stared at each with determination before Isabelle threw off the sword and danced away.
And then Sparrow lashed forward, and Isabelle just managed to block it before finally seeing an opening - his arm was just a bit too high and his chest was defenseless. Taking the moment, she slid to the side, letting his sword fall when she pulled hers away, and jabbed.
Silence, and Isabelle glanced over the small amount of blood that was staining white, not even leaving a drop on the sword that created the wound. First blood.
"Winner - Jack Sparrow!" called out Arabelle, and cheers and groans filled the air as men started splitting their winnings.
Finally hissing in pain, Isabelle clamped her free hand over her wounded shoulder, trying to stop the tiny wound from bleeding anymore, which stung more then anything. Well, her shirt was ruined now.
"Well played, Miss Bennett." Jack took his hat back and gave her a exaggerated bow, making Isabelle roll her eyes. "I haven't had that much fun in a long time. And I admit, I thought you were going to win - I gave you this be pure accident," he said, nodding towards her wound as he set his hat back on his head.
"Congratulations, Mr. Sparrow," said Isabelle with a nod. "You're better then I thought."
"I'll take that as a complement," said Sparrow, grinning widely.
"Captain, what are you gonna make her do?" asked one of the crew, and the men hollered out suggests while Isabelle paled a bit. That's right, she owned Jack something now. He hadn't specified what it was though...
For a moment, Sparrow actually looked thoughtful before his face lit up. "Ah! I know." He stepped forward and tapped his cheek, smiling. "A kiss from a lovely lady."
On the sidelines, James bristled, not that Isabelle noticed. Sparrow did though, and his smile almost slipped into a smirk. If anyone did notice it, they thought it was came from the whistles and yells that came from the rest of the crew, clearly happy with this.
"You have to be joking," said Isabelle dryly.
"Nope," Sparrow said cheekily. "Now come on, I won, fair and square." He tapped his cheek again. "Who knows, you might even like it."
While she sneered at that, Isabelle glanced over at her fiance. Her sneer dropped a little when she saw that James wasn't even there anymore. She glanced around, her heart tightening when she realized he was no where to be seen. Did he leave during the middle of the match? She had been so involved that she wouldn't have even noticed if he did. Did he really disapprove of her fight that much?
That was just fine the, Isabelle decided. If he didn't care, then neither would she.
"Fine," Isabelle finally said, ignoring the cheers and the little voice inside her that sounded like her maid, telling her that this was an unladylike thing to. "You did win, after all." With a deep breathe, she stepped up to Sparrow, who was grinning like a cat that caught the canary as he turned his cheek to her. Grimacing at the smell of sweat, rum, and gunpowder, Isabelle leaned, preparing to give him only a quick peck.
Still, she shouldn't have been too surprised when instead of her lips meeting a scratchy cheek, they instead landed on slightly dry lips that pressed against hers firmly.
Eyes going wide, Isabelle pulled her head back, fingers going to her lips. That was her first kiss! And she just shared it with - with a pirate! She felt faint.
"Oh come on, it ain't that bad," teased Sparrow.
"P-Pervert!" said Isabelle with a dark blush, balling her fists up. "That was my first kiss!"
Of course, instead of feeling any sympathy for her, the men just cheered for their captain, congratulating him yet again. Off to the side, Arabelle groaned and slapped her head. She knew what was coming.
Her balled up hands shaking, Isabelle pulled one back, ready to punch Sparrow in the gut for what he did.
But she was literally beaten to the punch.
A hand landing on Sparrow shoulder forced him to turn away from her, and a second later the sound of a fist meet a face rang through the air before Sparrow stumbled back, clutching his quickly bruising cheek.
"Don't you ever kiss my fiancee again, Sparrow," James managed to growl out before a few members of the crew tackled him to the ground, not completely unprovoked since he attacked their captain. His chin and chest hit the ground painful, and he struggled against them even though they were using all their weight against him.
"Leave him alone!" cried out Isabelle, trying to pull of one of the crew, even though she didn't even budge him. "Please!"
"Get off him!" barked Sparrow suddenly, looking rather fierce even though his cheek was dark red, almost purple. "Now."
Almost reluctantly, the men moved off James, and Isabelle immediately went to his side. "Are you alright, James?" she asked, looking over him for any sort of injury. "Did they hurt you?"
"I'm fine," James insisted as he sat up, glancing up at her. "Are you?" he asked, with an almost hesitant touch on her hand. "He didn't hurt you, did he?"
"Not badly," Isabelle with a shake of her head. "I'm alright."
"He was in his right to hit me," Sparrow suddenly said loudly, causing both Isabelle and James to look up. He seemed to be yelling at his crew for jumping the Commodore. "I kissed his bloody fiance. And no matter how lovely she might be -" Isabelle blushed at that, "it ain't my right. Are we clear?" There was mumbled replies of agreement, while some just nodded, and Sparrow turned down to look down at the couple. "Sorry about that, mate," he said, giving James a hand up. "But good show, defending your woman's honor like that."
Sputtering, James tried to say something, but nothing came out clearly. And Isabelle was just content to continue blushing. "Um... thank you," she finally mumbled. "For defending me..." And for finally saying that she was 'his fiancee'.
"It was nothing," James mumbled right back.
"Oi, come here, you," said Grace, grabbed Isabelle by the arm and pulling her over to the make-shift tables. "You can make lovey-dovey eyes at each other later, I want you to play a game with me!"
"A-A game?" Isabelle questioned, glancing back at her fiance, who watching them leave with a stunned look.
"Yup!" Sitting her down on one of the lower crates used as chairs, Grace sat next to her and grinned at the two men sitting across from them. "Alright, deal us in. We're betting chores or rum shares, by the way," she told Isabelle. "You and I will be a team."
"Have you ever even played cards before?" asked one of the men, raising an eyebrow.
"Only Quadrille," Isabelle admitted, naming the ladies game that was very popular in Europe. The men laughed heartily, and she flushed in embarrassment, clenching her hands against her legs. Was it her fault that she was so sheltered? Or that she was forced to interact with such boring women?
"Alrighty then, lay off, you buggers," snapped Grace. "Just deal the damn cards. The game is Costly Colors." She carefully explained the rules, making sure that Isabelle understood as best she could before she let the men start the game. Looking at the cards in her hand, Isabelle wondered if this was such a good idea...
"Damn it all to hell!"
"Yes!" cheered Grace as she slung an arm around Isabelle's shoulder's, who was still staring at her apparently winning cards. "We won, we won! Not bad, princess," she said with a smirk, "I'm gonna have to drag you to our next game of gin rummy. Its a game some Chinese sailors taught us..."
As Grace went on, Isabelle looked up at the pair of men, who groaned and cursed them as they slammed their cards down and left. She couldn't believe it, they had actually won. And not just one hand, but one right after the other, until the men were forced to do all of Grace's washing and give them all their rum. They protested loudly, insisting that they were cheating, but then Sparrow actually came over for awhile to watch for a set. He then informed the two that if they ever accused the women of cheating again, he would hang them over the side by their ankles. That shut them up for awhile, even though they still moaned about losing.
"Captain! Graveyard ahead!" called out the short man that was the in crows nest. Almost instantly, the crew, who had been milling around the deck, rushed to the sides, peering into the waters.
"Come on, princess, lets go see!" said Grace as she forced her along for the second time that day. Isabelle tried to ask what was so important about this graveyard, but when she finally saw, her voice died at the sight.
The ship was moving through a light fog that Isabelle hadn't even noticed, and surrounding them were the carcasses of many ship, dead and broken. Below, sharks that she never seen before swam around, probably waiting for them to crash so they could dine on their flesh. Groaning lowly, the Interceptor was carefully guided by Sparrow into what seemed like a lagoon, all of the crew deadly silently.
"Dead men tell no tales," cawed Cotton's parent, making the whole situation more frightening then it already was. Isabelle couldn't help but shiver and gulp. This wasn't helping her fear of water at all. She stepped back.
"Puts a chill in the bones how many honest sailors have been claimed by this passage," muttered Gibbs, still at the railing.
Glancing over at the first-mate, Isabelle scoffed lightly, trying to shake off her fears. It they had been anywhere near this place, she doubted the sailors were that honest. But she wasn't going to make a scene about it.
"How is it that Jack came by that compass?" asked Will, standing on her other side, as he suddenly stared up at Sparrow, who was standing at the wheel.
"Not a lot's known about Jack Sparrow," said Gibbs as he tugged at some ropes, making sure they were secure, "before he showed up in Tortuga with a mind to go after the treasure of the Isla de Muerta." Reaching to his side Gibbs pulled up his flask, which hung from a leather string. "That was before I met him, back when he was captain of the Black Pearl," he said before taking a swig of rum.
"What?" said both Isabelle and Will in unison.
Gibbs winced. "Oh... ya didn't know what..."
"He was captain of the Black Pearl?" asked Will with shock. "I knew he was part of the crew, but captain?"
"He certainly failed to mention that," added Isabelle as she sat on a nearby crate.
"Well, Captain Jack plays things closer to the vest now. And a hard-learned lesson it was."
"What do you mean?" Isabelle asked.
"See, three days out on the venture," Gibbs started, "first mate comes to him and says everything's an equal share. That should mean the location of the treasure, too. So Jack gives up the bearings. That night - there was a mutiny. They marooned Jack on an island and left him to die, but not before he'd gone mad with the heat."
"Oh my... That's horrible," Isabelle said, actually feeling sorry for the pirate. Betrayed by the men you were suppose to trust. Who were suppose to watch your back...
"Ah. So that's the reason for all the...?" Will made a movement that reminded her of Sparrow so much, she had to hold back a small laugh. Instead, she coughed into her hand, hiding her smile.
"Reason's got nothing to do with it," said Gibbs, looking serious. He gestured towards the crates, and both the men sat down with Isabelle. "Now listen - when a man is marooned he is a given a pistol with a single shot." He held up a single finger. "One shot. Well, it won't do much good hunting or to be rescued." Gibbs leaned in closer. "But after three weeks of a starvin' belly and thirst..." He held up his hand, which now mimicked a pistol, and held the 'barrel' end to his forehead. "That pistol will start to look real friendly. Ah, sorry, Miss Bennett," he said as he dropped his hand, giving her an apologetic look. "Maybe I shouldn't have said that."
"Its fine, Mr. Gibbs," said Isabelle, waving it off.
"But Jack escaped the island," Will said, urging the man to go on.
"Aye, and he still has that one shot," Gibbs said. "He won't use it, though, save for one man. His mutinous first mate," he finished with a smirk.
"Barbossa," said Will.
"That be the one," confirmed Gibbs with a nod.
"Wait a moment - how did Sparrow get off the island?" asked Isabelle.
A grin appeared on Gibbs' face. "Well, I'll tell yeh. He waded out into the shallows. He waited three days and three nights, till all manner of sea creature 'came acclimated to his presence. And on the fourth morning, he roped himself a couple of sea turtles, lashed 'em together and made a raft," he finished with confidence.
"... Sea turtles," Will repeated in a monotone voice.
"Aye."
"He roped... a couple of sea turtles..." said Isabelle with a raised eyebrow.
Gibbs nodded. "Aye, sea turtles."
"... What did he use for rope?" asked Will after a long moment.
That seemed to stump Gibbs, and tried to answer, his mouth open once, then closing before he frowned slightly. But he wasn't forced to answer as the sound of footsteps forced them to look up. Sparrow stood over them, a hand resting on his pistol as he looked almost serious. "Human hair," he answered, his lips twitching up slightly. "From my back."
"Mr. Sparrow, please have some self control," said Isabelle with a wrinkle of her nose. "That is most certainly someone you shouldn't say in public."
"We're pirates, love," smirked Sparrow. "We don't care what we say in public." He turned towards one of the crew. "Let go of the anchor!"
"Letin' go of the anchor, sir!"
"Mr. Turner, Miss Bennett and I are to go ashore," Sparrow informed Gibbs. "Keep the crew under control until we get back."
"And what if the worst should happen?" asked Gibbs warily.
"... Keep to the code," Sparrow finally replied, which his first-mate agreed to with a nod.
"Aye, the code."
"Ready one of the boats!" Sparrow barked out. "We're gonna ashore!"
"Aye, Captain!"
"Isabelle?"
Turning to James' voice, Isabelle waited patiently for a moment as he seemed to stumble with his words. It almost made her smile, here was her James, the one she spent so many hours with it as a child. "Yes?" she finally said.
Pausing for a moment, James placed his hands on her shoulders, drew her closer to him, and leaned in. Stunned, Isabelle couldn't even object as he brushed his lips against her cheek, leaving her face warm and bright as a red-hot coal when he leaned away, looking her in the eyes. "Please, be careful," he said firmly. "Alright? Come back in one piece."
"I-I'll be fine, James," Isabelle stuttered. "I promise." Hearing her name being called by Sparrow, she forced out a stumbled goodbye before practically racing to the boat, holding her fingers to her cheek and realizing she'd been twice in one day. And only one had sent sparks through her skin.
Shaking her head, Isabelle ignored Sparrow's teasing as she stepped into the boat. No, she couldn't fall for James. It would just lead to a broken heart in the end.