A/N: Hello, everyone! Thanks so much to those of you who reviewed the last chapter! We made it to 100! I hope you all enjoy this one :)
Chapter XVIII
The next day, I found my thoughts wandering incessantly (quite on their own accord) to Mr. Sparrow. I would attempt to divert my attentions, but somehow everything always came back to him. It was quite unsettling.
I believed it was fairly safe to say that he was aware of my secret. However, I was bewildered; if he knew that I was a mermaid, why was he treating me like a human? He had witnessed me kill at least two people – two men – and seemed to think nothing of it. Of course, I couldn't imagine that he might be horrified by or frightened of me, but I didn't expect complete nonchalance. Was I not some ferocious creature? Was I not dangerous and untrustworthy? And yet he treated me like any other girl who wanted to go on an adventure. He was patronizing, yes, but he seemed to also find me endearing, even. Perhaps this was a bit of a stretch, but it was my interpretation.
I hadn't realized that he was actually growing on me until it was too late to undo the damage; it was sealed: I was fond of him. Don't take this the wrong way – I didn't fancy him, of course (the ridiculousness of the notion was too much to even entertain). No, it was nothing like that. I respected him. I enjoyed his madness and his quirks and, though I might not have admitted it, his snide comments.
So, the next night, while Gibbs was avidly teaching me how to play All Fours, I didn't even mind when Jack said I was rubbish at cards and that I should just same myself the heartache of bankruptcy and quit. I didn't mind that he beat us all and reaped the rewards with an enormous, cheshire grin on his face. I didn't mind that he continuously poured me drink after drink, with the obvious intention of having me reach a state of inebriation.
I did mind, however, when the very same girl from the previous night came up behind him and began to massage his shoulders. I most definitely minded.
But I was not going to go through this ring again; no, I had learned my lesson. Things did not turn out well when I wandered around alone and intoxicated.
So, my impaired mind attempted to devise some other sort of plan. What it fabricated – well, let's just say that what it fabricated was of questionable judgment and morality.
"Peter," I purred drunkenly, lightly trailing my fingers from the back of his hand up to his shoulder, "Per'haps you and I should form an'lliance… That way, we'll have a better chance of beating Jack 'n Gibbs." I sounded ridiculous. I sounded absurd. But when the tips of my fingers touched his skin, a shiver ran through him. Even on land, I thought, proudly smirking to myself.
I could have sworn that Jack watched this interaction out of the corner of his eye, and for a brief and fleeting moment I suspected that he was not nearly as intoxicated as he appeared to be. However, these thoughts quickly fled my mind as I surreptitiously watched him tug the barmaid onto his lap. I scooted closer to Wentworth; Jack and I appeared to be at war, but over what I did not know.
Poor Wentworth was, understandably, taken aback by my advances. However, he was even more dazed than I, and therefore avidly reciprocated my sentiments without thought. He swung his arm around my narrow shoulders and pulled me close.
"That sounds like'an excellent idea," he slurred happily.
Jack whispered something in the wench's ear, which we both knew she couldn't understand. She giggled and bobbed up and down with glee nevertheless. I felt ill and my head was on fire. I tried desperately not to be sick.
"You a'right?" Wentworth asked, his voice slow with intoxication and heavy with concern.
" 'm fine," I mumbled ruefully. I burped without warning and pressed a dainty hand to my chest in surprise, all the while Jack looked at me with his golden smile and dark, heavily lidded eyes. I suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to slap him, but resisted.
The whore – wench – barmaid – whatever she was, grabbed either side of Sparrow's face and turned it away from my direction, so that it was level with her chest. Hell, she owed everything to that damn corset. If I wore a corset, even my bosom could look like that. She was, for all intents and purposes, cheating.
My brain worked sluggishly in an attempt to calculate a suitable retaliation, and suddenly discovered it. I gradually tilted my head to look up at Wentworth, who was already peering down at me. I couldn't seem to focus my vision, but I allowed my swaying gaze to drop from his eyes to his lips; he was swift on the uptake.
Before I knew what was happening, our lips were touching. His mouth tasted of beer, and I'm sure mine tasted of rum. Sweet, proper Wentworth was careful and gentle in his technique, his mouth just barely touching mine.
But I would have none of that; I put my hands on either side of his face in an attempt to gain better leverage, and he surrendered control to me. I nipped at his lower lip and engaged in a sort of battle between our tongues, and I'm quite sure that I scandalized, terrified, and mystified him all at the same time. My training had taught me well.
I felt our companions' eyes burning into the back of my skull and I think I remember hearing one of the Spritlies let out a whistle; but I can't be sure, it could have been anyone. When I finally decided to release him, he looked positively dumbfounded.
"She really made a man out o' you!" Marty chuckled (or was it a hiccup?), clapping Wentworth hard on the shoulder.
I turned to Jack to gauge his reaction, but saw that his wench was employing my very same methods. I tried not to let my disappointment show.
"Oi, Sparrow," said a loud and rough and decidedly feminine voice.
He and the blonde pulled apart abruptly, but, before he could search for the source of the noise, a dagger whizzed past his head and landed on the wall across from him.
Or, as Cotton probably saw it, directly beside his face.
"Ah, Nat," Sparrow said cheerily. Even in the poor candlelight, I could see a glint of mischief in his eye.
"Na'lie Daggerdale," Gibbs hissed urgently from across the table, "wife o' Captain Jansen Daggerdale. Notta duo ta'be reckon'd wit'." He stared at the intruder wildly, before grabbing his bottle of rum. He took a long drink and leant back in his chair; he soon tumbled over, earning more than a few vain (albeit sufficiently angry) outbursts from neighboring tavern-goers. Gibbs was unperturbed; and, more importantly, unconscious.
Sauntering towards the table was a tall, slim, commanding brunette. She was wearing men's clothing, like I was, but her ensemble was decidedly more elaborate. In addition to britches, a chemise, and an exterior leather corset, she wore a large bicorn hat stuffed with peacock feathers.
" 'ello," she said smoothly.
"I hope you are well," Jack said, deftly shoving Tim (who hardly minded) out of his chair so the woman could be seated.
"Indeed I am," she replied.
"So, what are you doing here? On this spit o' land, I mean – not the tavern. I know why you're in the tavern."
"Well, Jack, y'see, that's a very funny story. I've 'ad a hellova day," she said, taking a swig of rum.
"And why is that?" he asked delicately. I imaged that Jack was quite used to people telling him they've had a "hellova day." I couldn't imagine any of these scenarios ending well for him, however…
"Been through a bit of an ordeal, I have. Y'see, Janny 'n I are just moseying along, mindin' our own business, yeah? 'N all of a sudden some massive ship starts sailin' right in front o' us. It's a real official lookin' ship. Like a Navy ship, but it ain'. Called the Meermin or somethin' or other. Anyways, as I've been sayin', it pulls out o' this silly lit'le port 'n o'course Janny says, well, he says, 'We're in fer some trouble,' 'n he tries to steer 'er away from these jollies. But no, they catch sight o' us anyway and start blowin' The Maiden to smithereens."
"And why did they blow your ship to smithereens?" Jack wasn't stupid, and he was apparently sober enough to think logically; he knew that any legitimate captain wouldn't arbitrarily attack an unthreatening vessel.
"Well they recognized it o'course! The Maiden is – was – one o' the most fearsome ships in these Western Waters! That 'n we maybe 'ad our cannons drawn from prior excursion… So, as I was sayin, what's a ship that ain't a Navy ship doin' with cannons, ey?" she continued, "Well that's a damn good question, says I – turns out they be members o' the Dutch East India Tradin' Comp'ny."
"So they – there ain't many of 'em – take me 'n Janny 'n the other survivors on board 'n they ask us whos we is. So Janny, thinkin' fast, like, tells 'em where jus' merchants who've been captured by pirates. Now, we got real lucky on account o' Janny speaks Dutch 'cause 'e used to work for the Comp'ny himself, but none o' the other poor bastards did. So they killed the others 'n they brought us into port, b'fore going back off. Now here we are, stuck in this lit'le speck of a village wit' no ship n' no crew."
"I see. And where might good ole Janny be now, hm?"
"Well, I took the tavern 'n he took the whorehouse. We figgered it were an equal bet in terms o' where we'd find ye."
"He's taking a bit long, isn't he? Shouldn't you be worried? For the sake of the sanctity of your marr-i-age, that is…"
Natalie scoffed. "He always comes back," she dismissed carelessly. "In the meantime," she continued, trailing her hand up Jack's thigh (the one that was not occupied by the derriere of the barmaid, if you're keeping track), "we're both allowed ta 'ave a lit'le fun, as it were."
"I fail to see how all this involves me," Jack interrupted warily.
"Ah, yes, I'm gettin' to that part. Why do ye think we're 'ere, Jackie? Hm? This ain't exactly the most frequently traveled island in the Caribbean, that's fer sure."
"I'm not following."
"We've been sent, boy-o."
"By whom?" he sneered somewhat impatiently.
"'By whom,'" she mimicked, "By the Court, dearie."
"The Court?"
"Aye, ye 'eard me. The Court. The Brethren Court. Jack, Jack, Jack, ye didn' think ye'd get away wit' stealin' a fleet o' ships from the Revenge, did ye?"
Jack stood abruptly, causing the barmaid to topple off of his lap; she glared up at him venomously, but he paid her no notice. He quickly grabbed a smug Ms. Daggerdale's wrist and dragged her outside, leaving the rest of the crew frozen in shock. Some – namely, the Spritelies and Marty – were either too affected by the alcohol or too otherwise occupied to register what had happened. However, Wentworth and I, only just barely aware, were surprised to say the least. We turned to one another slowly, both mentally contemplating what course of action would be most wise.
Without any verbal exchange whatsoever, we stood in unison and crept towards the exit. He poked his head through the mottled wooden doorway, before stepping out into the pleasant night air. He looked around urgently and then motioned to me that the coast was clear. I stepped out as well, using good Wentworth's arm for support.
We tiptoed to the nearest alleyway; at the time, I remember thinking that we were being incredibly quiet. In reality, however, our footsteps were most likely masked by the sounds of barroom brawls and shattering bottles coming from the neighboring building.
This time, it was my turn to hang my head around the corner. In the shadows, I could just barely make out the figures of two people. I pressed my finger to my lips and nodded to Wentworth; it was them.
I pressed my back up against the paneled wall, shut my eyes, and strained my ears to listen.
"… stealing from a pirate is hardly a capital offense," I heard Jack say insistently, "Plus, it's not as if those ships even belonged to him – they were Blackbeard's!"
"Aye, but there was more'n just the Pearl in that collection, Jack. Ye don't think the others want their ships back as well? Tsk, tsk."
"So what, I just need to go to the Cove and give 'em back their ships and be on me merry way?"
"Sounds 'bout right," Natalie chirped.
"How did you even find me?"
"The Court has eyes everywhere."
"But still, the amount of time it takes for information to travel…"
"Who says we've just started followin' ye?"
There was a brief silence. "Why you?" he asked finally.
"Jackie, ye know that when Cap'n Edward Teague asks ye to do somethin' ye best not say no. Plus, as of late we seem to be in the market for a new ship anyway."
"Teague's the one orchestrating this?"
"Well, Barbossa set the whole thing in motion, to be sure. Had he not said anything, no one would've known. But Teague's the one that sent me, aye. Like I've been sayin', the rest o' the Lords are not pleased – ye obviously do not conduct yer terr'tory in the same way they all do – namely, you've got but one ship at yer command – but that don't mean that they're in the wrong. Those ships belonged to them, same as the Pearl b'longed to ye. It be their right to have 'em back, and, between the two o' us, I don' think ye want the rest of the Pirate Lords angry with ye…"
If these "ships" were indeed in the same state that Jack's was, he had to know that there was a glaring problem: the ships were still in bottles, and only he knew how to restore them. Perhaps he merely did not want to voice this concern, as it would lead to a whole slew of new issues.
"We should go," I quickly whispered to Wentworth. I was sobering up, and he already knew too much. I don't know why I felt the need to keep him ignorant, but I did know that Jack most definitely did want this knowledge getting out.
"But I want to find out what's going on," he protested slothfully.
"I'm sure it's nothing," I said. However, he wasn't moving. So, I employed the most effective method I knew of. "Really, I'm sure it has nothing to do with us," I breathed seductively. This seemed to get his attention; I grabbed the front of his shirt and slowly pulled him away from the alleyway.
Perhaps he wouldn't remember anything in the morning.
A/N: I hope you all liked it! Another drunken extravaganza... But is a mermaid's kiss still a Mermaid's Kiss on land? Apparently rum makes Cassie do crazy and stupid things (*cough I think many people can sympathize with this cough*). It's kind of funny, because historically intoxication has actually been a huge problem for pirates - Calico Jack Rackham's ship, if I'm remembering correctly, was captured because he and his crew were too drunk to fight back, if you can believe it.
That being said, I thought it was only appropriate that I base the Daggerdales on Calico Jack and Anne Bonny. Natalie Daggerdale's name was created by a fellow FFN author, NatzSti (if you're reading this, I hope you liked her portrayal!).
Also, you should all check out xoxoMyRealityIsFiction's wonderful story, The Price of Freedom. I can't link things here, but you can probably find her quickly in the reviews section of this story or search "The Price of Freedom." It's about Captain Jack Sparrow and a lost princess, Ayisha.
Please review, my friends! :)