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IRELAND Author: Captain Cheesehead Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or anything associated with Disney's Pirates of the Caribbean. This goes for every chapter of this fan fiction. Summary: You follow your best friend across the ocean to prove yourself as tough as a man, but you find yourself stuck in a ship's kitchen unable to gain rank because of your gender. By chance, you meet up with the Black Pearl and prove yourself subtly. * * * * * CHAPTER 1 You were born to a small but functional family. The few memories you retained throughout the years were happy ones. You remember your father telling rather gruesome tales about pirates from across the ocean. They were always filled with adventure and action. But right before your father got around to the murder and torture parts, your mother always interrupted, claiming that such things weren't fit for a young lady's ears. As much as you felt important being called a 'young lady', you were always curious to what happens to the characters and their treasure. With enough begging, your mother would put you to sleep with the most spectacular lies, somehow tying in beautiful princesses and magic dragons in the stories giving it a more fantastical element. But as soon as she was out of the way, you would always sneak into your fathers study, where he was usually smoking a pipe and revising his latest stories. Your father was an Englishman named Peter Hall. He supported the family by farming, but in his spare time, when he wasn't telling stories, he was writing them. They were mostly collections of short stories written for his daughter and other children in the extended family. You always helped him think up imaginary people and places, that is, when you weren't sneaking in to hear more pirate stories. "Tell me what happened to Captain Morgan, papa," you would say, climbing into his lap. He would always chuckle, put aside his papers and go into a detailed account of the attack on Panama with all the violent details. You always paid the utmost attention. He always ended his stories with "Don't tell your mother, bright eyes. She'll have us both doing the wash." And with that you'd smile about being called bright eyes and sneak back into your bed and dream of sailing on the high seas with a gleaming sword and a parrot on your shoulder. You mother's name was Grace. She was one hundred percent Irish and insisted that her daughter grow up on the Emerald Isle as well. Peter wouldn't argue because he loved Grace very much and didn't really care where they lived as long as he had "a field for plantin' and some blank paper for fillin'". So for eight happy years, you and your parents lived in a peaceful bliss. All was well until disease broke out in the town nearby. Your parents tried their best to keep the farmstead quarantined, but by means of the virus traveling through livestock, they both caught it. Soon you find yourself to be an orphan at the age of eight. Luckily for you, some close friends of the family heard of the news and came as quickly as possible to get you out of there. Besides the extreme feeling of grief, you were grateful. The family was the O'Malleys. They became your second family and you soon learned to love their three surviving children like your own siblings. They had lost two in the breakout and they all understood your grief. You became exceptionally close to Tom, their eldest son who was your own age, but born a fortnight after you. That would always be your line to use when he was a sore loser in races and other games. "You're just mad because I'm older than you and I am slightly bigger and stronger because of it!" He would always respond with the same thing. "One day I'm going to be bigger and stronger than you and I'll beat you in everything!" As much as you denied it, he was right. When you were both seventeen years old, he had grown quite tall, and you hit most possibly the smallest growth spurt ever. Despite being tall for an eight year old, you only grew to about five feet at seventeen. Your hair had changed from red to dark brown and you became an adult in ever sense of the word. It was obviously time to start considering what you were going to do with your life. Tom was way ahead of you in that as well. One day, he announced to the family that he enlisted in the English Royal Navy and was bound for the Spanish Main. This immediately caught your attention. The Spanish Main had been the setting of most of the pirate stories your father told to you. "I'm going with you," you said proudly one day when he was preparing to depart. "Don't be daft. Women aren't allowed in the navy," Tom stated. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. Why not?" "Because women can't man a ship. Besides, they have to stay home and keep the household together." You scowl. "Why are you going to the Caribbean anyway?" "To help fight off the pirates. It's a big problem there." "And you're positive I can't be in the Navy?" "I'm more positive than I ever been in my life," he said, trying to end the conversation. "Fine. Since I can't join your pathetic, sexist navy, I'm going to become a pirate. I'll probably even meet you on the high seas one day. Then you'll be dead. I apologize in advance, my dear Thomas," you say in mock sincerity. "Ha. Even if the pirates let you aboard their ship, I suspect you'll be the smallest, weakest one of them all," Tom said back and walked out of the room laughing. "You've been warned!" You yell after him. You were so mad at him for not believing in you that you didn't speak to him until he departed the next day, and that was a terse, cold good-bye. But inside you were smirking. The night before, you bribed the crooked coachman bringing Tom to the port to carry you on as extra cargo. As long as you ran along the backside of the farm and made it into town before Tom did, you can sneak on and hide with the luggage before anyone knew you were gone. You brought with you a rucksack of extra clothes and anything else you suspected you'd need. Your plan succeeded brilliantly, and soon you found yourself hiding in the cargo hold in a beautiful ship called the HMS Coventree. For a few weeks you survived down there, eating the preserved food that was being shipped to the English settlements in the Caribbean. But a day came when you thought you would go crazy if you didn't get any fresh air, so you put on a cabin boy's outfit you doctored up to fit you and risked a venture out on deck. You made sure you were well out of everyone's way and hid amongst rigging for several hours. For awhile, your plan worked, and for a few days, you would take a break from the sunless hold and get fresh air out on the weather deck. The key word there was 'awhile'. On the fourth day, the senior cabin boy spotted you and ordered you to help man the sails. You tried to make up any excuse, but the boy suddenly realized you were a stowaway and immediately alerted the rest of the ship. When you were brought before the captain to explain yourself, the whole crew was watching, including Tom. He looked horrified. "Who are you?" the captain asked roughly. "I am Ann Elizabeth Hall O'Malley, wife of Thomas O'Malley," you lied quickly. Everyone's staring gaze snapped in Tom's direction and he glared back at you. You continued, "I hid on your lovely ship because as soon as my darling left me to join the cause, I found I was with child, and I couldn't bear to be away from him." You bow your head in faux shame. "Is this true O'Malley, is she your wife?" The captain asked, enraged. "Aye, she is, sir," Tom sighed. "But he had no idea I had followed him, sir. Please don't punish him for my actions," you suddenly cut in before the old captain said anything else. "Very well then, since you've been an outstanding member and shown loyal service to the Navy, I won't punish you. But consider yourself discharged at the first port we stop at." "Aye sir," Tom said sadly. You suddenly felt like you did the worst possible thing, stopping your best friend from doing what he does best. "Tom, I'm so sorry," you whispered to him. "Save it," he said smiling, to your surprise. "I didn't really like it that much anyway. I was working my best so that they would let me out early. But your way seems better." You hug him as tight as possible. He pushes you away. "You're pregnant, remember Mrs. O'Malley?" "Oh yes," you say, quickly looking your best to be sea sick and frail. The rest of the voyage was easy. Since you were in fact a lady (and a pregnant one at that) the captain obliged to put you in comfortable quarters. He moved an officer to the crew's quarters so you got your own cabin to yourself. It was tiny, but better than the cargo hold. You got special treatment aboard the Coventree. Extra food for you and your 'child'. They somehow even provided a dress and other women clothes. But all too soon, you found yourself watching as the crew moored the ship into the beautiful port of Nassau. The blue water and pristine beaches took your breath away. It was more beautiful than you imagined. And it was all yours. And Tom's of course. Now that he was out of the navy, the pair of you were free to do whatever you choose. "So what now?" He asked you once you both left the ship with your sea chests at hand. "Well, I for one am going to do what I came here for," you said confidently. "And what's that?" "I'm going to be a pirate, of course." You smirk at the disbelieving look Tom was giving you and continue to walk into the tropical paradise that was soon to be part of your new home. * * * * * CHAPTER 2 A year later, you found yourself waking up on the most fierce pirate ships in the Caribbean, the Scarlet Tide. You anxiously hopped out of bed and rushed to get ready for another excitement-filled day of raiding, pillaging, and plundering. You quickly fixed your 'look' in a grimy, old mirror hanging over your hammock. First you smudged a thick layer of kohl around your eyes. Tom said it made you look diseased. You thought you looked fierce. Secondly, you swept up your unkempt hair into a faded black bandana and let a small braid on the right side fall freely. Finishing off the braid were three small, silver beads engraved with native patterns. You put on your worn, leather boots and sling your rusty old sword over your shoulder. Finally, you are ready for work. Looking into the mirror, you scowl at your reflection. "We are rather fierce looking, aren't we? Grrrrr--" "Oye! Wake up in there! We be needin' breakfast!" The voice of the first mate rang throughout the room. He pounded on the door. "I'm awake! I'm up!" you shouted back. Okay, so you weren't a ferocious pirate girl. You were a cook. A cook that was well on her way of becoming a pirate, or at least you hoped. In fact, you weren't even on the most fierce pirate ship either. A pirate ship it was indeed, but rather small with very few guns. The crew were a bunch of lazy lowlifes and the captain was no better. Very rarely were any attacks ever successful. Tom wasn't much better off than you were. He was able to rise a few levels, but the captain decided not to let him do anything too important. Tom swore it was because the two of you were Irish on an English ship. But that's about the only complaints he had. Tom wasn't really into the whole pirate life. He was perfectly content to be scrubbing the decks or helping you prepare food rather than raiding, pillaging, and plundering. This irks you more than anything. While he had the chance to rebel against the government, he chose to lie low. You told him this everyday. "Thomas O'Malley, if I were in your boots, it'd be me bringing back the most gold. You have an opportunity. You're just to cowardly to take it." He'd ignore you most of the time, but when he got particularly annoyed at being called cowardly, he'd always say it wasn't his idea to be here on this bloody ship in the first place. You walked out of your curtained-off section of the crew quarters and head towards the galley. "Wha's fer breakfast, Ireland?" the bosun asked, too drunken to really care. Most of the crew have given you the nickname 'Ireland' because they were too stupid to remember Ann. All they had to do was hear your accent to think Ireland. "Potatoes," you replied shortly. "Again?" "If you got off your arse and actually became a good pirate, the captain might afford real food," you said, brandishing your spatula like a sword. "Now get out of here before I make you a eunuch and serve it for dinner!" He left laughing. All the idiots on the crew seemed to think it was hilarious whenever you threatened them. You felt like a five year old who learned how to say a new swear word that amused older siblings. You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the hashbrowns you were browning. A sudden though occurred to you, and it made you laugh just thinking about it. You grab a handful of salt and throw it in the pan. You evilly think of all the rum the pirates would waste trying to satisfy their thirst. Just before taking the hashbrowns off, you throw another handful of salt just to be sure. You ring the bell to signal breakfast with a huge smirk on your face. The first shift walks in and you smile sweetly and say, "It's a new recipe. I really hope you like it." After they eat a few bites, you pull out about half the rum supply the ship had. Instantly, the pirates grab for it. A bottle a man. But before they can swig too much down, a voice rings all around the ship. "All hands on deck! All hands on deck!" The pirates left instantly to follow orders. They left a wake of half-empty rum bottles and food all around. "Brilliant," you think and start cleaning up in a huff. Somewhere above you, cannons were being prepared for fight. You were hardly afraid though. The last time the Scarlet Tide attacked anyone, the other pirate captain was so amused by the disorganization and shotty seamanship that he thought his friend on another ship was playing a joke on him. He ended up giving your crew two barrels of wine for the entertainment. Tom came into the galley before you were finished. "Need help?" "Must you always find excuses? Try a bit, why don't you." "Nah. It's not even worth it this time. The other ships' a lot bigger than ours with double the guns. And it's a great deal faster than this tub," he patted the wall as if talking about a dog. "We're sure to put the white flag up soon, even before any guns are fired." A warning shot from the other ship rattled everything. Apparently Tom was right, because there were no other cannon fire to be heard of, and the noise of the excitement on deck died away. There was a small shudder as the other ship pulled up to the Scarlet Tide. "Lets hope they aren't too violent," you said while hiding anything of value. "Aye," replied Tom, who helped you put away all the rum and pulled out his sword. "Ah, so my dear Thomas is actually going to kill something?" "Only when there's a lady involved," he said, winking. You blush. "I am no lady." "And you're no pirate. God knows this isn't getting you anywhere," he said. You sighed, knowing in your heart he was right. Tom laid his sword on the table while he kneeled on the floor looking for some of the rum you just hid. "Honestly. You're worse than they are," you said mockingly. Suddenly, the door flew open and two men starting coming in. You grab the sword Tom laid aside before he himself could get to it. "Aye avast ye scurvy scumbuckets!" The shorter of the two laughed. "She's worse than you, mate," he said to his companion. "Are you mocking me?" you said, dropping the pirate accent. "Of course not. Just amused is all. Now if you'll excuse me, you dear old captain said there was some rum hidden down here." You sighed once again and put the sword back on the table while Tom stood up and pointed out where the rum was hidden. You said quietly, "Imbecile gave up again." The man who spoke before looked up at you. "That's a bit harsh, luv. You shouldn't be callin' your captain names." You snort. "You would be too if he always surrendered. Besides, I call anyone I want an imbecile. These idiots don't give a rats ass." "Ah. I see." The man had about seven bottles of rum bundled in his arms, and was trying for an eighth. When he couldn't accomplish this, he sadly left it on the table and began to walk out. "Hey!" you caught him before he leaves. "Aye, can you make it quick? I don't think I could hold these for long." "Is the position of cook already filled on your ship?" "We usually have the men rotate." "I'll do it for free!" you said desperately. "I'd sleep in bilge water to get off this bloody boat!" Tom gave you his I-don't-think-this-is-a-good-idea look. You quickly avoid his eyes. The man seemed to consider your offer. His friend mused, "It can't hurt." "Fine. Come on then," he finally decided. "Don't you need to ask the captain?" you question. "Speakin' to him. Captain Jack Sparrow, luv." He bent down a bit as if to bow. "Is that all? I really need to get back to me ship." "One more thing Captain, can my friend here come?" "So long as you aren't married. God knows what trouble that'll be." "Friends. Only friends," you said excitedly, picking up another three bottles and dragging a bewildered Tom behind you. "And your name?" Jack asked as you followed him up to the weather deck. "I'm Ann Elizabeth Hall. Most just call me Ireland. And my friend is Thomas O'Malley, otherwise known as Tom," you introduced quickly. "I'm a decent cook, and Tom has excellent seamanship according to the Royal Navy. He hasn't really been given a chance to prove this with this crew." To your utmost amusement, your 'former' crewmates looked on with confused expressions as you and Tom followed Jack across the gangplank. You looked up at the ship you were now going to serve on. The Black Pearl. It was somewhat intimidating with it's ebony decks and black sails. Tom seemed to think so too. His grip on your hand tightened and he pulled closer to you. But soon enough, you were across and greeted by curious pirates. "I didn't know ye was takin' aboard captives, captain," a graying man with amusing sideburns said. "Not captives Gibbs. They are to be part of the crew. Decent grub now," Jack said. "None of this gruel you call food." Most of the men shouted their approval and you being the social butterfly that you were, introduced yourself to most of them. Jack had arranged for you to bunk with the only female pirate on the crew, Annamaria. You were excited, but she seemed somewhat less enthusiastic. Tom was to stay with the other man who was down in the galley with Jack, Will Turner. According to Gibbs (who seemed to know everything about everyone), Will was a widow and had lost his wife in a tragic shipwreck about a year ago. He had on board with him a two year old son, to your delight. As tough as you wanted to look and be, children softened your heart. It was probably your only weakness after the mentioning of your parents. Captain Sparrow had enough grace to leave the crew of the Red Storm unharmed and left with only the rum and wine. He claimed they were running drastically short. Only enough left for a week. And to think, you were about to waste it on the said scumbags. Soon enough, the Black Pearl was pulling away from the disgraced Red Storm, and you were on your way to a new and hopefully better life. * * * * * CHAPTER 3 Your first few days on the Black Pearl were pure bliss. Everyone was glad to have you on board. The crew warmed up to you after your first dinner of fried fish. Soon enough, they all came to you with requests for their favorite dishes, and you were more than happy to oblige. Captain Sparrow's ship was kingly compared to the Red Storm, and she's been all over the world it seemed. The hold was filled with exotic foods from South America to Europe to Asia even. You couldn't wait to get your hands on it. There were even huge sacks of salt, sugar, coffee and spices of all sorts. Your eyes lit up like a five year old on Christmas when you found it. On your second day aboard, you wandered around the deck when you had a break from cooking. You were amazed at how cheerful the crew was. Nobody was fighting or complaining. If you didn't know any better, you wouldn't believe they were pirates. You had noticed that Will had taken it upon himself to show Tom the ropes. For that you were grateful, the last thing you wanted was for him to feel out of place as he did on the Red Storm. Wherever Will was, his son was as well. His name was Jack, after the dear captain and the Turners' close friend. You smiled one day as you watched him teeter towards the sides of the ship and his father dropped what he was doing to grab him before he went overboard. Captain Sparrow nearly had a fit as one corner of the sail Will was securing went flying up towards the sky. They had a hell of a time trying to get it down, so from then on, you kindly offered to watch over Mini-Jack during the day. * * * * About six months later, you were feeling at home than you would if you were back in Ireland itself. "So Jack, what should we make today for supper?" you asked more to yourself since he was busy eating the last bit of preserved jelly from the jar. You looked through a basket and sighed. "Let’s go find out when we get to the next port. We need more supplies." "Yeah!" he said, promptly dropping the jar. The excitement of going out on deck instead of roasting in the galley made him happy. He scrambled up the ladder while you kept a watchful eye from behind. When you walked out on the deck, a gust of wind whipped your hair onto your face, causing you to shut your eyes against the force. Jack grabbed your hand and the two of you walked towards the helm where the captain was busy trying to keep the ship steady against the heavy wind. You saw Tom up in the sails with Will. They both waved cheerfully down as you passed below. Jack giggled at your side as Will and Tom began to descend down. "Careful!" you warned after Tom lost his footing slightly. "Must you embarrass me in front of the crew?" Tom said playfully while shoving you slightly. "Oh I'm sorry," you replied. "I didn't mean to TELL THE WHOLE CREW ABOUT YOUR PROBLEMS WITH WOMEN AND HOW EVERY WHORE IN THE CARIBBEAN CLAIMS YOU'RE AN EUNUCH!" Everyone on deck heard and laughed. Tom turned a deep crimson, which made you feel bad. You wrapped an arm around him and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sorry, now if you'll excuse me, I have important matters to discuss with the captain..." Tom glared as you walked away. The last thing you heard before getting out of earshot was Mini-Jack asking his father what a eunuch was. "Wouldn't want to get on your bad side," Captain Sparrow muttered as you walked up. "Aye sir, I wouldn't either," you say smiling. "So what do I owe the pleasure, Miss Hall?" "Firstly, you can stop addressing me so formal-like. I hardly deserve a lady's title." "Agreed, as long as you stop calling me 'sir' everytime you talk to me. Makes me feel all old." You laughed. "Yes, s--, er Captain." "Jack's fine, luv. You've been here long enough to know I'm the Captain." "Alright then, Jack," you said a bit awkwardly. You didn't even know your previous captain's first name. "What I came up here in the first place was to ask you when we might be getting to the next port. We're running low on food." "Because of this strong wind on our backs, we should get to Tortuga about mid-afternoon tomorrow. I'll let you order from my friend who owns a tradin' post, and he owes me a couple o' favors, so we can probably get it delivered to the ship by nightfall." "Sounds good to me. Thanks Jack." "You're very much welcome." He smiled and you couldn't help but notice how charming it was. You blushed and looked down quickly before he noticed how you were staring. You turned and began walking back towards the galley when you remembered to ask, "Is there anything particular you wanted tonight?" He smirked and you quickly added, "To eat?" "Nothin' comes to me, unless you can make somethin' with rum." "You mean like rum cake?" "There's such thing as a rum cake?" Jack asked in disbelief. "Of course," you say, amused. "It's quite good." "By all means, make it!" "Will do." That night, as you promised, you made some rum cake. Unfortunately, you were nearly out of sugar, so it wasn't much. Everyone tried to bribe you for the biggest piece, but you to saved it for Jack, if only just to see him smile at you again. "Oye! Are you okay?" Annamaria's harsh voice echoed through your mind. You were so lost in thought that you had no idea you were staring at her for the past few minutes while she was trying to sleep. "Sorry Anna," you said. "I was daydreaming." She snorted and turned to face the other way. Over the past months, you managed to penetrate Annamaria's cold shell and once in awhile, she would actually seem like a normal woman and want to talk about things like normal girls do. But tonight apparently wasn't one of those times. "Goodnight," you say sleepily. You were answered promptly with a snore. * * * * The next day, as Jack had promised, the Black Pearl arrived at Tortuga. You've only been there a few times before, but Jack gave you specific directions to his friend's shop, and you didn't get lost on the way there. You passed up an unending parade of drunks, whores and every other type of lower class people. Despite this, Tortuga always made you feel excited. It certainly wasn't a boring place, something was happening everywhere you looked. You regarded the place as sort of a home base. Anyone was welcomed there as long as they didn't mind the general chaos and anarchy, and you definitely didn't. You stopped in front of a dilapidated shop with a weather-worn sign over the door with the trade symbol on it. You smiled because of the easy find and walked in. Mr. Smithy was helping another customer, so you lingered by the door and pretended to be interested in the workmanship of the brass knob. "I warn ye, Smithy, if I don't get those specific eggs from that specific basket, there'll be hell to pay!" The surprisingly feminine voice of the seedy-looking customer said. "I'll be back first thing in the morning." When they turned around to head out the door, you could see clearly that it was in fact a woman, and you had to jump a few feet out of the way to avoid getting trampled as she trounced out. Smithy sighed and dabbed his brow with a dirty cloth. "What can I do for ye miss?" "I need to get some supplies," you say as sweetly as possible to show that you weren't going to yell like the other woman. "It's for the Black Pearl." "Ah. How's me boy Jack doin'?" he said, flashing you a warm smile. "Pretty well off I'd say. We just got finished with a successful cruise. We got a couple treasure ships heading back to Europe." Smithy chuckled. "Then I suppose I should load up the whole supply of rum then, eh?" "You know Jack all to well," you said. "He says you can get it to us by tonight, yes?" "Only for Sparrow. 'E got me out of a couple o' tight spots last year when I was drunk off me rocker... But that's another story for another time. What else ye need?" You proceeded to list off all the things you needed and paid Smithy for it. "Take care lass! Keep Jack outta trouble!" Smithy said as you started to walk out. But before you even turned the knob, the door came open, and Jack himself came in. "Speak o' the devil!" Smithy called. "Just telling the lass to keep ye out of trouble!" "Me trouble?" Jack said innocently. "Never. Let's say me, you, and Ireland here get a pint at the Bride? My treat." "Me?" you said, edging back into the store from halfway out the door. "Do you know any other lasses by the name of Ireland?" Jack smarted. "I dunno, Jack. I can't close up shop jest yet," Smithy said. "I'm sure you can. I just gave you enough business for a week. It's the least you could do." "I suppose. But--" "Wonderful! Let's go!" Jack cut him off and happily walked out the door, linking his arm in yours in the process. Smithy scrambled to lock up the shop and jogged to catch up. You were speechless to be invited to drink with the captain, but happy nonetheless. Jack talked nonstop during the walk about past experiences with some Florida natives, which had you and Smithy in stitches. Jack didn't seem to notice, but as you walked down the streets, you couldn't ignore the large number of woman glaring at you. They looked to be mostly prostitutes, but something about you on the arm of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow made them give you loathing looks, and you actually enjoyed it. Occasionally when you saw this, you would inch closer to Jack and put your hand on his arm, as if he was your lover. "Ah, the Faithful Bride," Jack said happily. He breathed deeply as the three of you walked in, as to inhale the atmosphere. He led you to a corner table set off from the rest of the place. "Three drinks," he said when the barmaid came to take your order. Before leaving, the woman, like all the others, glared at you. "Do you know her?" Jack said, noticing it this time. "I don't think so... unless I did something last time I was drunk in Tortuga." "You, Ireland Hall, drunk?" "Why's that so hard to believe?" "Oh I dunno. You just come off as so innocent." "Ha. I suppose that could become useful if I ever turn pirate." "It would be. Works for most female pirates. How'd you ever get stuck on that bloody ship in the first place? Did they kidnap you?" "Nah, they couldn't kidnap me, let alone anyone, if I were delivered to them in chains. I actually came out here to become a pirate, but those bastards wouldn't let me do anything outside the galley," you said indignantly. "Well, considering you can make cake with rum in it, I'm not surprised." You glared at Jack and he continued, "Just say the word luv, and we'll go back to the rotating-cook mode so you can learn to be a pirate." "Really?" you ask, shocked at his offer. "Why not? Like you said, it'll be really useful." "I may just take you up on that offer." The drinks came and you looked carefully to make sure the woman didn't spit in it before taking a long gulp. Jack and Smithy talked for a little while about current happenings in Tortuga and you looked around the room at everyone making merry. Across the room, at a tiny table, you saw the woman from the store watching the three of you carefully. She didn't take her eyes off of you until you walked out of the tavern. You didn't point her out from the others because something about her staring creeped you out, and you wanted to leave as soon as possible. "Well, I have to go see about yer order. Thanks Jack. See ye later then. Nice meetin' ye lass," Smithy said his goodbyes and headed back towards his little shop. Jack began to walk with you back to the docks. You were still a bit cautious after seeing that woman from the tavern, so you were constantly looking behind and around you. "Why're you so edgy, luv? See a ghost?" Jack asked with amusement. "No. There was just a strange woman I saw back in the shop, and she was also in the tavern staring at us like a cat staring down prey." "Who could blame her? I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. The ladies can't resist me great looks. And if she swings the other way, you aren't so bad yourself." "Should I take that as a complement?" you asked, laughing. "Most people would, yes." "Then I thank you. And thanks for the drink." "No problem." * * * * The next day, Jack insisted the crew set out immediately because he had news that more Spanish treasure ships were routed near Panama. While the crew was doing their duties you were down in the hold sorting out all the new food and supplies. You were in the middle of checking all the eggs when a slightly discolored one caught your eye. It felt unusually light, so you cracked it open. Instead of the usual innards, a quarter folded piece of paper came out. It was so thin, you were afraid you were going to rip it. You didn't know how to read, but as you looked at the symbols forming words, you could tell they weren't the normal English alphabet. It looked to be a list, or directions to something. But in the corner of the old parchment, you made out a depiction of a ship laden with treasure. Your mind wandered to yesterday, where the staring woman demanded Smithy give her a certain basket of eggs. What if this is what she wanted, and there was a mix up? Your first instinct was to show Captain Jack. He would know what to do about it. * * * * * You hesitated before knocking on the door of the captain's quarters. It was quite unusual for anyone to do so without first being summoned. What if Captain Jack was sleeping or did not wish to be disturbed otherwise? But it was the middle of that day and Jack was usually charting a course or downing a bottle of rum at this time. Well then, you thought. Perhaps he shouldn't be disturbed either way. Maybe your discovery in the egg wasn't something the captain would think of as important. But obviously that woman wanted it bad enough. It must be valuable. You raised a fist to knock at the door, but before it made contact with wood, a voice whispered in your ear. “You know, women don't usually hesitate before throwing themselves into my cabin. At this point, they are normally disrobed in the heat of passion.” Jack's face was right next to yours as he said this. You could feel his breath on your ear. His had gripped your shoulder lightly, the touch inducing butterflies to swarm around your stomach. You turned around as calmly as possible and suppressed the butterflies. “Jack, your senile aunt doesn't count.” He opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off. “Neither does Mr. Gibbs after a rousing game of strip poker.” This had a double effect as the aforementioned first mate happened to walk by at that moment. Both men wore identical expressions of disgust. Jack cleared his throat. “I'll have you know that gambling of that sort is banned from my ship. Unless, of course, the lovely cook is in on the game, in which case, I have a lucky deck of cards here in my cabin.” “Ah, well I am sorely sorry to disappoint, Captain, but I do not consider myself as a Tortugan whore up for anything.” Jack looked slightly put out. “Then what business of the platonic sort would you have in my cabin?” “I found this,” you pulled out the piece of old paper from the egg. “And I have a feeling it may be valuable.” The Captain studied it for a few moments before opening his door. “Well then, right this way, Milady.” He disappeared over the threshold and you looked at Mr. Gibbs, who was still obviously trying to figure out how his name was connected to strip poker and Jack's cabin. “I always win anyway,” you said with a wink and pulled an Ace of Clubs out of your sleeve with a slight flick of the wrist. Gibbs chuckled as you followed Jack into the dark captain's quarters. The first thing you noticed about the room was the clutter. Jack had an assortment of maps, trinkets, bottles, books, paper, clothes, and even some old weapons stored in random places around the cabin. The room was big enough, and obviously designed to be the most beautiful place on board the ship. Carved figures of mermaids held lamps and guarded the window in the back. A small bed occupied one corner complete with sheets and a very warm looking blanket. You thought instantly of your own hammock and thin coverlet and wondered if all captains afforded themselves such luxury. Jack pushed away some empty bottles on a table in the back of the cabin and placed the paper flat on top. He looked over it for what seemed like a few minutes and growled in frustration when he obviously couldn't understand a lick of it. He then proceeded to interrogate you about where and when you found it, as well as why you thought it was valuable. You explained about the egg and the woman in Smithy's shop ordering Smithy to make sure she got a particular basket of eggs. There had to have been some sort of mix up and now by pure luck, you had this... whatever it was. The captain looked at the paper again and let out an exasperated sigh. “I tell you what, luv. How about I put you in charge of trying to figure out what the bejesus this is. As of right now, there are a few ships stuffed to the brim with gold just waiting to be taken down near Panama. I can't afford sailing the seven seas in search for clues as to what this is.” You try to talk as he puts the paper back into your hand. “But Jack--” “Now now, darling. You're a smart lass. You figure it out. Now I do believe it is almost lunchtime and the crew will undoubtedly be hungry.” Jack all but pushed you out of the door. You were completely vexed at his very unJacklike behavior. From the stories and rumors you have heard, Captain Jack Sparrow was not one to disregard even the slightest possibility of finding some mysterious treasure or another. Something about your discovery made him edgy, and you were determined to find out why. For now, you gently folded the paper up and stuck it in your bodice for further contemplation. * * * Later that day, you were down in the galley again with little-Jack making biscuits and singing. “Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me!” The two of you sang together laughing. You look at the young boy with flour all over his face and laugh inwardly at him. It's been a long time before the Black Pearl since you've been in the company of such innocence. The song continued through the parts that you knew several times through. “Okay, whats the next line?” “We're devils and black sheep and really bad eggs! Drink up me hearties, yo ho!” Jack said, pulling out an imaginary sword and hopping off his chair to battle the door. “That's Uncle Jack's favorite line.” “Oh, so it's 'Uncle Jack' now, is it?” You asked with a smile. “Papa doesn't want me to call him that. But I don't have any other uncles.” Little Jack took a swing at the wall and lost balance, tipping over onto his side. You grab his arm and help him up. He continued telling a story you didn't expect to hear. “A couple of years ago, right after Mama died, we went to this woman. Jack went with us. She did magic. Her house was scary. Papa said she knew everything. She asked Uncle Jack if I was his nephew, and he said no, and then she said that I may as well be. But I didn't start calling him Uncle Jack until the other day when I just remembered.” “Ahh. So what was this woman's name?” Your curiosity was awakening with a bang. “I don't remember. But we had to travel all day in a longboat up a river to get to her house.” You lumped a spoonful of the biscuit mix onto a pan and thought about what young Jack Turner told you. If there was indeed such a woman, you could find her and possibly figure your little egg mystery out. You just had to figure out who she was and how to find her. Different options ran through your head. You could ask Jack, but something about your find put him in an odd mood. You had a feeling Jack knew what it was, or had an idea, but wanted nothing to do with it. That should have been a sign to discontinue your investigation. As Mr. Gibbs once said, what bodes ill for Jack bodes ill for you all. Yet there was a drawing with a ship full of treasure on it! It couldn't possibly be all that bad. Finding out what it was couldn't hurt one bit. Perhaps Will and Tom would help you find this magic woman of the river. A glob of biscuit mix slammed into your cheek and brought you out of your thoughts while a giggling Jack hid under the table from the retaliation. You picked up the batter you just placed on the pan and threw it back, narrowly missing his face and instead hit the wall behind him. Jack scooped it up with practiced skill and flung it into your hair. Before you could get back, he sprinted out the door and up the steps to the upper decks. You skipped out after him with all the energy you could muster. Bright light burned your eyes and you squinted to find where the little urchin went. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him scramble up the steps to the helm where Mr. Cotton and his parrot were taking their shift at the helm. You were hot on his heels and were several feet away when the boy pulled out his imaginary sword and swung it in your direction. You, being much practiced in this game, pulled out your own imaginary sword and the two of you dueled like true pirates. “Ye can't escape this one, Captain Turner!” You threatened and plunged your 'sword' towards his stomach. He parried with such force, your 'sword' went flying. He then proceeded to chase you around the helm in what could be described as the most ridiculous chase in the history of all things make believe. Cotton looked increasingly alarmed and the parrot wasn't helping your cause with his remarks of, “Awk! Run 'er through!” and “Walk the plank”. After a couple minutes of this, you turned around and brandished your wooden baking spoon like a pistol. Captain Jack Turner dropped his weapon and placed his hands in the air. “Hey... you cheated!” “It's called 'being a pirate'. Looks like I win this one, mate.” Before you could order Jack back down to the galley for lunch, the real Captain Jack appeared at the stop of the stairs. He took in the scene before him; you covered in batter and holding a spoon in the face of the Turner boy, who had his hands raised in the air in front of an amused Mr. Cotton who wasn't even touching the helm at this point. He rolled his eyes and said with a bit of sarcastic authority. “Would the governess and her charge please leave me crew to their duties and go clean up the galley, which I expect to be a dreadful mess.” You and mini-Jack both glare at the captain. You were certainly no governess, and Jack certainly wasn't about to be ordered around by one. The Captain was right though. The galley was a mess. You sighed and made your way back down to clean up with the youngster following right behind. As you passed, you heard Captain Sparrow mutter something about his pirate ship turning into a household and wondering when to expect new draperies. * * * That same night, you decided to show Tom the paper from the egg. “I don't know,” he said stoically. “It could just be some scrap of inventory from a foreign ship.” “But it was in an egg!” You were getting frustrated at the way that he doubted everything. “Why would it be in an egg?” “Maybe a chicken ate it,” Tom said with a smirk. He looked at the look on your face and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. “Ahh, lighten up, Ireland. Why are you wasting time on possible treasures? We have everything we could possibly want right here on this ship.” You looked out across the ocean at the half moon over the horizon. “That is where you and I differ greatly, Thomas. You are happy with security. Attack the occasional ship every once in a while and you'll be fine and set. But for me, it gets old and boring. I need more adventure than that. I mean... look at Jack Sparrow's story. He battled the supernatural and hellish. He risked life and limb to get his ship even though he could have been just as successful with another ship. I want that.” “You want Jack?” “No. I want his life.” “I think you are giving the Captain more credit than he deserves. Men like Jack do things for self-security and riches. Think of all the people he stepped on to get where he is today.” Tom glanced over at Captain Jack talking to Will Turner at the helm. You followed his gaze as well and said in a quieter voice, “Sometimes it's necessary. Its not like he hasn't been stepped on himself.” “Would you do it? Would you use people for your own gain?” “That all depends on the situation. Yes, there are definitely some times I would.” “Would you use me?” “Perhaps.” Tom raised his eyebrows. “Okay, maybe not you. But other people. Some deserve it. Or need to learn a lesson. Or something.” You said this while trying to come up with a scenario in your mind of when you might do this, but Tom was right. You could not think of a situation. He looked at you with knowing eyes. “I think your morals are becoming corrupt.” “Look who is talking, Mr. Pirate.” The two of you laughed and once again you started looking towards the horizon. Tom sighed contently. “What do you think our family is doing back home?” you asked quietly. “Keeping a weather eye on the horizon and praying for our safety like the good Catholics they are.” TBC... |