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OF PIRATES AND ROVERS Author: Robin Sparrow Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of the plot or characters contained within the film. Summary: You are an American orphan who is currently in Jamaica, trying in what lawless ways seem best to survive. You’ve been on your own since you were fifteen, so it comes as no surprise when you’re forced to steal money from an innocent man once again. What you don’t know is that you’ve just robbed the best pirate in the Caribbean... and he’s not going to forget about you easily – especially when you continue showing up in his life. Your friendship certainly starts out on the wrong foot, but when you and Elizabeth are taken captive by English pirates, it’s time for him to once again to join forces with his blacksmith friend to save the both of you before either the pirates or the Navy can do anything to harm you. * * * * * CHAPTER 1 - The Rover From Wonderland You smile as you adjust your belt one last time, looking out over the ocean and Jamaican shore as fluffy white clouds race by overhead. It’s going to be a good day; you can tell. Pushing your short, golden-brown hair behind your ears, you take in a deep breath and start walking. You’re wearing your regular attire (a plain white tunic, brown leggings, black leather belt, and worn black boots) and all the weapons you own, including a cutlass, a loaded pistol, two throwing knives, and a three-bladed parrying dagger on your belt and an extra throwing knife hidden in your right boot. After all, it’s your thing to always come prepared. That’s why you also have a loop of rope hanging from your belt and a pin for picking locks hidden in your wavy, chin-length hair. You’re low on money again, and you’re going to need to eat sooner or later. It’s time once again to steal from some rich (but not too well-known) bloke. But that’s all right; you’re used to it. You’ve been doing it for years now, ever since you were a 15-year-old orphan in America. Stowing away and coming to Jamaica didn’t change anything much, except that you’re not on all the wanted posters in town anymore – a very good thing, since your whole life depends on your being able to steal what you can’t buy; and there isn’t much these days that you can buy. However, being a person who likes adventures, this life suits you just fine. Being a fugitive is never boring, after all... especially since it throws almost anyone these days off balance because women aren’t supposed to do anything you’re doing. Your thoughts are interrupted as you spot your target: a strange-looking man, but considering all the expensive-looking beads in his hair and the well-made sword that’s hanging from his belt, he’s probably got enough money on him for you to get by on... for a while, at any rate. You pause a moment to watch him; you’ve always made sure to know your enemies fairly well before coming up against them. This man is tall, probably only a smidge taller than yourself, and fairly strong-looking. He’s got longish black dreadlocks with multiple beads and other items in them, tanned skin, brown eyes, and is wearing a grayish coat, vest, pair of leggings, a white tunic, dirty black boots, a red bandana, and a grayish tri-corner hat over the bandana. He doesn’t have many weapons; only a cutlass and pistol. He might have knives in his boots like you do, but probably not. He doesn’t seem like the kind of man that would do that. When he walks, he sways a little – he’s probably drunk. This will probably be very easy to do; all you’ve got to do is get him alone, knock him out, and take his purse. It’s hanging from his belt, along with his weapons and what looks to be a compass. You pause a moment, considering how you should go about doing this. Finally, you get an idea. From the hat on his head, he appears to be a Captain, and one that’s not from around here at that. You might be able to convince him his ship’s on fire, and pretend to lead him back to the docks. On the way back, you could lead him into an alleyway with a dead end and rob him there. It’s risky, but it just might work. Mussing your hair slightly to give yourself a more harried appearance, you break into a run. “Captain! Captain!” The man turns around immediately, a comical expression of puzzlement on his face. “Who in the bloody world are you?” he asks when you reach him. Panting for effect, you look at him with your best we’re-in-big-trouble look. “Sir, it’s your ship!” The man immediately trades the puzzled look for one of great concern and passion. This is a stroke of luck: he really, really cares about his ship. “What about my ship? And how do you know me?” You barely hesitate before coming up with a response. “Your crew sent me – they’re in trouble! They told me to get you! Come quick!” “What happened?” Inwardly, you grin. He’s hooked. “Your ship... It’s on fire!” The man’s eyes instantly widen in horror. You turn toward the direction of the docks. “Come on, follow me!” The captain shows no hesitation in following you, and pretty soon you’re both running like you’ve never run before. For a moment, you stay on the right path, just to allay his suspicions (if he’s even got any) for a little longer. Then, quite suddenly, you veer off to the right. The man following you skids to a stop and stares at you. “What are you doing?” “The docks are busy,” you lie. “It’ll take forever to get there if you go that way. I know a shortcut. This way!” This time, the man seems a little more unwilling to follow you, but he knows that there’s no other way. He has to get to his ship as soon as possible. Smirking, you turn a corner and abruptly stop. You’ve found your dead end. The captain runs into you, unable to stop quickly enough, and you have to grab at the wall to keep him from pulling you down as well as he falls to the ground. When he tries to get to his feet, you grab his collar and shove him up against the wall of the dead end before he can get his balance. Holding the shirt with your left hand, you whip out your parrying dagger with your right, and flick it so that all three blades are in use. The man’s eyes widen as you place it at his neck. “What... are you doing?” he pants, more confused than ever. “Robbing you,” you answer. The man stares at you. “Your ship was never on fire, sir. I made it all up so that I could get you here. I need the money, you see. So, hand it over now, and we can both survive.” His stare turns icy-cold. “And if I refuse?” You push the dagger a little farther, not enough to cut him, but enough to let him know your answer. “I see.” The man pauses a moment, and seems to get an idea. “What if we... make an agreement?” You cock an eyebrow at him. You don’t really intend on agreeing on anything with this man, but you’re curious as to what he might say. “What kind of an agreement?” The man offers you a crooked smile. “How about I don’t call out for help from the Navy, and you walk away?” You think for a moment. This could be a problem. You know you should kill him now and be done with it, but it’s not your way. You don’t kill people unless you have to... but then you get another idea. “If you call them, I’ll just take my belt off and run out screaming as if you were trying to...” You pause, searching for the right words. “...take advantage of me.” The man raises his eyebrows; apparently, you surprised him. “Well, lass, that’s an interesting idea. But how do you know that I don’t know who you are? I might be able to convince them to arrest you anyway.” You try not to show it, but this does concern you. After all, you’re already wanted in America, and you’ve been here long enough to be known to the Navy. But this stranger doesn’t look like Navy material. “Who am I, then?” The man blinks. “Anne Bonny?” You laugh. He tries again. “Mary Read?” This is amusing. “No, sir, I am no pirate. I’m not very famous, either, except in America.” He cocks his head (as much as your dagger will allow, anyway). “Who are you then, lass?” This man is interesting, and is obviously not of the Navy, so you decide that, even though you won’t give him your name, you will give him something to remember you by. Something very strange that you made up a long time ago, when you were still a child. “I’m the Rover from Wonderland.” The look this causes the man to adopt is so funny you just have to laugh. He must think you’re crazy by now, but you don’t care. The fact is, you are crazy – and damn proud of it, too. “Now, sir, it is time for me to relieve you of your unnecessary weight.” Before he can say another word, you’ve snatched the purse, and are clutching it in your right hand. Swiftly, you stuff it into your shirt (for lack of a better place, since you have no pockets in your pants). The man raises an eyebrow, but says nothing. You step back, still holding the parrying dagger up with one hand. After a moment, you flick it so that all three blades are lined up as one and put it away. You pull out your pistol before he can move and cock it, aiming at him. “You wouldn’t shoot me, now, would ya, love?” the man asks a tad bit nervously. You give him a stern look. “Not unless you make me.” Then, having backed out the alleyway, you uncock the pistol, place it back on your belt, and run as quickly as you can away from the direction of the docks. You can’t believe it. Your plan actually worked without any trouble. That was easier than you thought. * * * * Jack stares at the spot where the woman had been standing just a few moments before. She had actually robbed him. Him, of all people. He was Captain Jack Sparrow, and she had robbed him. And who was she? Some American who called herself... What was it again? Jack thought hard. Ah, yes: “The Rover from Wonderland.” What kind of a title was that? If it was supposed to be a riddle, he didn’t feel like solving it. He couldn’t anyway, since he knew nothing about her. Not that it mattered; he didn’t care anyway. She hadn’t stolen much from him, though it would probably seem like a lot to her. No, what she had taken was a mere one-hundredth of what was left at the Isla de Muerta. To him, it was just loose change. What bothered him was the principal of the thing: that he had actually been robbed (and by a woman at that), and he had let her get away with it. That was what really irked him: he hadn’t been able to stop her. Then again, she did seem like a very strange person to begin with. To start, her eyes were weird. No, weird wasn’t the right word. Her eyes were... ethereal. They were a deep, navy blue color, and were as apt to appear serene as they were to look fierce. They gave her a memorable appearance... Not to mention the fact that she was dressed like a fugitive, carried more weapons than he did, and had cut her hair shorter than most men he knew. But what stuck the most was the scar on her face: starting just below her left eye, it ran in a straight vertical line down to the middle of her cheek – almost like a tear. He wondered what had driven her to the life she led... and to robbing him. He frowned: just as he was about to forget, he was reminded once again of what had happened and his annoyance with the whole affair. Shaking his head, Jack starts making his way back to the Black Pearl. He’s had enough for one day. * * * * * CHAPTER 2 - A Failed Attempt You’re out on the streets again, this time with your brown leather bag of clothes and extra food slung over your shoulder. It’s evening, and you’ve just finished off the best meal you’ve had this year. You were right when you assumed the man you robbed earlier carried good money: he had exactly twenty gold doubloons and ten pieces of eight in that purse of his. Now, stuffed into the side of your shirt (held in place by your belt), it is slightly lighter and much more comforting than the single hay penny you had been carrying before you robbed that man. You pause in your stroll, a thought striking you. Who was that man, anyway? You wonder if he was important or not. Was he a Navy officer at all? Probably not. A fisher? Certainly not! What then? He could be a privateer, but what would he be doing wandering around with money in such an easy place to steal it from? He could be... You pause. A pirate? You cock your head thoughtfully. A wealthy pirate, to be willing to lose all that cash... or a stupid one. Perhaps it was both. Either way, pirate seemed to fit in with the man’s appearance like a puzzle piece. Then you laugh. What do you care? You’ve got the money, and he’s probably gone. No worries, mate. For a moment, you’re carefree again, ready to take on anything... but then you remember his eyes. They weren’t familiar, but they did seem to get your attention. They were just so full of life, and everything that came with it: danger, fear, love, adventure, cheerfulness, anger, passion, and... He looked like he’d been through hell and back again, but he also looked like he’d seen a glimpse of heaven as well. How very strange. You shrug it off. Once again, you don’t care. Even if you did, it wouldn’t matter: you’re never going to see him again anyway. You continue your walk, and are not surprised when you find yourself at the docks. You come here often, always wondering when you’ll have to board another ship. Maybe now it was time. After all, whether or not that man was a Navy officer, you were starting to become a recognizable figure – locally, anyway. Maybe you should go pirate. The life would suit you... You laugh again. Suit, indeed. You’ve only been on a ship once as a stowaway, and you didn’t find it to be a pleasurable experience. No, a life on the high seas is not for you. Though, you can’t help but wonder how beautiful the open ocean must look on a day like this. You shake your head. There’s no time right now for speculation. It’s time to go, you’ve decided, and it’s time to go now. You’re not stowing away again; you’re going to commandeer a ship – just long enough to get away from here. Once you get to Ireland (a nice place to go to), you’ll set the ship on fire (far enough away so that it can’t be seen clearly from shore), and swim the rest of the way, claiming your crew died in the fire – if anyone asks, that is. Seems like a good plan. Now, all you need is a ship to steal. You catch a glimpse of something black, and then you’ve found it: the perfect ship. It looks new (or well-taken care of, anyway), and it’s extraordinarily beautiful. Everything is black: the deck, the sides, the bow, the stern, the ropes, the mast, the sails – even the longboats are a wonderful ebony color. There are only two things that you can see that are not black: the golden figurehead (it’s of a woman with some sort of bird in her outstretched hand), and the gold lettering on the side. Craning your neck, you manage to read the name of the ship. “The Black Pearl,” you whisper. “Good name.” You climb up onto the roof of a nearby building, sit down, and wait for night to fall so that you can put your plan into action. * * * * As softly and quickly as a shadow, you slide off the roof and melt into the darkness. It’s time. If you wait any longer, the ship will leave or the moon will go behind a cloud, obscuring your much-needed vision. Hiding in the shadow of the building, you pull a black coat out of your bag and put it on over your clothes. You then pull out a black cap and tuck your hair into it, giving you the appearance of a young man – that is, if anyone actually manages to see you in the darkness. Buttoning up the coat, you sling the bag back over your shoulder and begin making your way over to the ship you intend to commandeer. If you’re lucky, the crew of the ship is out in town, asleep or drinking, and there’s only a sentry or two on board. If you’re not lucky, you’re going to have to run like hell. Soon, you’re standing in the shadow of the bow, with the bowsprit bobbing up and down serenely directly above your head. Waiting a few moments to make sure there’s no one watching you, you take hold of the bowsprit and swing up onto the deck. As soon as your feet hit the floor, you slide behind the nearest object, which in this case happens to be a crate holding some sort of cargo. Luckily, the box is large enough to cast a shadow for you to hide in. You wait for a few agonizingly long minutes before taking your first peek around the deck. At first glance, you see no one. You duck back behind the box, wait a moment, and try looking out from a different point of view. Still nothing. A chill runs down your back, and you look up, scrutinizing the rigging, but you still cannot see a single living being. Slowly, you stand up. Pulling out your parrying dagger, you carefully step around the crate and out onto the main deck. If there is anyone here, you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life. However, it seems as if the entire ship is deserted. Apparently, whoever owns this ship is quite stupid. Just to make sure, you sneak over to the Captain’s cabin. You open the surprisingly unlocked door and walk in. You go over to the bed, and even check beneath it, but there’s no one there. Suddenly, you hear a creak behind you. Spinning around at once, you find what looks to be the entire damn crew of the ship standing in front of the doorway, blocking your only exit. Instantly, you feel stupid for letting yourself get trapped... and afraid. But you won’t show it. Looking each of them in the eye defiantly, you put away your parrying dagger and whip out your sword. Suddenly, you see a figure with a big, floppy hat on his head step out in front, holding a cocked pistol up and aiming it at your head. “One more move, girl, and I’ll blow your brains out!” You blink as the hat slides off of the crewmember. What you thought was a man was actually a tall, dark, and fierce-looking woman. Not that it makes much of a difference right now, since either way there’s a gun pointing at your head. Gritting your teeth, you drop your cutlass. There’s no point in getting yourself killed. “Good. Now, I don’t want any trouble from you. Come along quietly, and we won’t hurt you... Yet, anyway.” You swallow your fear, hoping you still look brave, even though you don’t particularly feel it. “Men, take this dog to the brig!” Two crewmembers step forward and seize your arms, and another picks up your sword. But before they drag you out, the woman (seemingly the captain of the ship) halts them. “Wait.” She turns her hot dark eyes on you. “Relieve her of her weapons.” Instantly, you struggle against the crew’s grip with all the strength you can muster, trying to get away, but it’s no use. Another man steps forward and unbuckles your belt, taking your weapons and allowing the purse you stole earlier to fall out of your shirt. The woman snatches it from the ground before you can stop her. Inspecting it for a moment, she glances at you before pocketing it. “It seems you’ve already met our captain. I’m sure he’ll find it interesting when he sees you in the brig.” She steps out of the way as the men begin dragging you downstairs and toward your cell. You don’t struggle, and simply flop down in the cell when they lock you in. It doesn’t really matter, anyway. There’s no way you can escape now, so you’ll just have to face up to your destiny. Curling up into a tight ball, you manage somehow to fall asleep, figuring the captain will at least wait until morning to deal with you. Until then, you might as well not worry about anything. TBC... |