PotC ficlet -- In Search of the Fountain of Youth
A cheerful little pirates ficlet for your morning!
“Jack, what is that on your head?” Elizabeth Swann, the Pirate King, stared at the Black Pearl’s captain confusedly. Instead of his usual red headscarf, dangling beads and long hair, Jack seemed to be wearing an enormous blue turban made out of what might be one of Gibbs’ shirts.
“Nothing, me love, nothing,” Jack pronounced, hopping about the Pearl’s deck like a deranged small bird. “I’ve your bits and baubles just as you requested. And a good bottle of wine or two for us to share, if you’ve a mind.”
“Wonderful,” the Pirate King said. Her eyes strayed to the busy scene of unloading the Pearl at Shipwreck Cove, then back to the bizarreness on Jack’s head. “Why are you wearing a turban?”
Jack looked uncomfortable. “Never mind, Lizzie. It’s an affectation.”
“An affectation? It makes you look….” Words failed her.
Jack leaned close and whispered conspiratorially, “I’ll tell you later. It’s not for the world to see.”
“Pink?” Elizabeth couldn’t refrain from breaking out laughing. “Jack, your hair is pink!”
“Rose, more like.” Jack’s eyes were as big and sad as a puppy’s.
“Whatever possessed you to dye your hair pink?” Elizabeth asked, her hands over her mouth.
Jack’s lower lip came out. “I’ve hennaed it before, in me youth. Made me a lovely shade of dark auburn. Thought I’d hide the gray a bit. Only this time….”
“…it came out pink. Henna doesn’t really hide gray, Jack,” Elizabeth said. “It turns it pink.”
“Well I know that now, don’t I?”
Elizabeth put her arms around her pink pirate. “I don’t mind the gray, you know. You’re still the handsomest pirate in the Caribbean.”
“How about the world?” Jack asked, but he smiled against her cheek.
“We can fix it,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll get some of Mattie’s walnut dye.”
The Pearl rode at anchor. “You’re sure this will work?” Jack asked for the tenth time. Shirtless, he sat with his hair piled on top of his head, brown goop smeared through it, as Elizabeth carefully dabbed dye onto his hair at temples with a narrow wooden spoon.
“Positive,” Elizabeth said. “Mattie uses it all the time.”
“Mattie’s a red head.”
“I didn’t say she used it on her.”
The Master of the Flying Dutchman walked in through the wall and did a double take.
Elizabeth didn’t look up from her painting.
“Why are you dyeing your hair, Jack?” he asked. “I don’t get it.”
“Course you don’t. Bloody immortal,” Jack grumbled.
“Be still,” Elizabeth said. “Or you’ll have brown ears. And then everyone will know you dye your hair.”
“Jack, what is that on your head?” Elizabeth Swann, the Pirate King, stared at the Black Pearl’s captain confusedly. Instead of his usual red headscarf, dangling beads and long hair, Jack seemed to be wearing an enormous blue turban made out of what might be one of Gibbs’ shirts.
“Nothing, me love, nothing,” Jack pronounced, hopping about the Pearl’s deck like a deranged small bird. “I’ve your bits and baubles just as you requested. And a good bottle of wine or two for us to share, if you’ve a mind.”
“Wonderful,” the Pirate King said. Her eyes strayed to the busy scene of unloading the Pearl at Shipwreck Cove, then back to the bizarreness on Jack’s head. “Why are you wearing a turban?”
Jack looked uncomfortable. “Never mind, Lizzie. It’s an affectation.”
“An affectation? It makes you look….” Words failed her.
Jack leaned close and whispered conspiratorially, “I’ll tell you later. It’s not for the world to see.”
“Pink?” Elizabeth couldn’t refrain from breaking out laughing. “Jack, your hair is pink!”
“Rose, more like.” Jack’s eyes were as big and sad as a puppy’s.
“Whatever possessed you to dye your hair pink?” Elizabeth asked, her hands over her mouth.
Jack’s lower lip came out. “I’ve hennaed it before, in me youth. Made me a lovely shade of dark auburn. Thought I’d hide the gray a bit. Only this time….”
“…it came out pink. Henna doesn’t really hide gray, Jack,” Elizabeth said. “It turns it pink.”
“Well I know that now, don’t I?”
Elizabeth put her arms around her pink pirate. “I don’t mind the gray, you know. You’re still the handsomest pirate in the Caribbean.”
“How about the world?” Jack asked, but he smiled against her cheek.
“We can fix it,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll get some of Mattie’s walnut dye.”
The Pearl rode at anchor. “You’re sure this will work?” Jack asked for the tenth time. Shirtless, he sat with his hair piled on top of his head, brown goop smeared through it, as Elizabeth carefully dabbed dye onto his hair at temples with a narrow wooden spoon.
“Positive,” Elizabeth said. “Mattie uses it all the time.”
“Mattie’s a red head.”
“I didn’t say she used it on her.”
The Master of the Flying Dutchman walked in through the wall and did a double take.
Elizabeth didn’t look up from her painting.
“Why are you dyeing your hair, Jack?” he asked. “I don’t get it.”
“Course you don’t. Bloody immortal,” Jack grumbled.
“Be still,” Elizabeth said. “Or you’ll have brown ears. And then everyone will know you dye your hair.”