Fic - I Saw Three Ships
Title: I Saw Three Ships
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Pairing/Characters: Barbossa/Black Pearl, Will/Norrington, Jack/Tia
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I borrow in awe of the Mouse's might
Summary: Yet more Christmas fic! Three vaguely seasonal ficlets, three pairings I've neither written nor widely read before. An exercise in indulging my increasingly erratic muses.
Notes: I wrote slash. World implosion may be imminent. Plus Tia is harrrd to write, but uber-fun to research for. Back, bunnies!
1. Gold
"To wealth!" Hector raised his goblet and the crew followed suit. "May we always have it in abundance!"
"Aye captain!" Came the bellowed response, and he lifted the elegantly jewelled vessel to his lips and drank. Odd that the sumptuous red wine seemed to barely touch his palate, but he'd been drinking a fair amount, so perhaps his tongue was simply deadened. There had been so much to celebrate recently; Yuletide seemed almost a cursory footnote. His own, beautiful ship had her hold packed with treasure, more than they could have garnered from a hundred prizes, and all of it ready for the spending.
Ascending the quarterdeck stairs, he slipped a hand into his coat pocket to caress the skull-marked coin he'd picked up this morning. There was a comely little lass in Tortuga he was sure he could tempt with it, and she was such a talented girl...
"Relieved, Jacoby," he muttered, and took the wheel from the bearded crewman. The wooden spokes were perfectly worn to the touch of a hand, the Pearl would respond so swiftly it almost seemed she was following a man's will alone. He glanced upwards, and grimaced slightly at what seemed to be a rip in the nearest staysail. A high-maintenance lady, that was to be sure.
The crew were raising their drinks again, and he heard the balding fat fellow- Pintel, wasn't it?- bawling rather drunkenly:
"To Cap'n Barbossa- a true gentleman o' fortune!"
Grinning, Hector drained the last of his own wine. Equal parts fear and fresh plunder was the way to keep a pirate crew, none of that negotiation rubbish that Sparrow used to spout. Idly he wondered if the man were dead by now. The gulls might be enjoying a fine festive dinner off his bones.
Setting down the goblet, he took the wheel in both hands. Jack must have been mad, mad not to have done anything to keep this ship. He ran a weathered thumb over the rolling grain of a spoke. Beautiful.
The Pearl crested a wave and he could have sworn he heard the timbers groan slightly, as if in protest at something.
"Don't worry me girl, we'll find you a fat little prize soon enough," he whispered, adjusting the heading slightly. For a pirate ship she'd been greatly denied her rights, too few floundering merchants left if they so much as raised a lying plague flag, too many a ship neglected if the lookout spotted a child aboard. Things would be very different from now on.
The crew were singing now, some strange hybrid of chantey and carol. Hector tapped long fingernails against the wheel in time to some truly odd lyrics about decking Sally Brown in ivy. He'd open another cask of wine later, or perhaps let them have a ration and a half of rum. Let them gorge themselves on good cheer; it might prove him a better shield than Jack had had, should the worst come to the worst.
He put a hand in his pocket again and pulled the coin out properly, letting it catch the slowly fading sunlight in all its crevasses. The golden skull seemed to wink at him, as if hiding some secret in its carved black eyes.
2. Frankincense
"Do you regularly waste your money in this sort of establishment, Mr Turner?"
Will rolled his eyes and took another sip of his ale as Admiral James Norrington nonchalantly took the seat opposite him. The man was dressed in civilian attire, even his fine wig discarded for a simple queue, but there was still a slight arrogance to his bearing that spoke of orders immediately obeyed.
"About as regularly as you do, Admiral. And on Boxing Day too? Don't you have parties to attend, young ladies to impress, that sort of thing?"
"I was looking for a midshipman of mine." James' eyes flicked about the room before settling on Will again. "Irritating little fellow, only fourteen and already thinks he's the Almighty's gift to the fairer sex. And I've had quite enough of young ladies this past week." He caught the barman's eye and gestured as if raising a tankard. "I needn't ask why you're not at the forge. I'd imagine Mr Brown isn't fit for anything the day after Christmas."
Will nodded ruefully as an ale was set in front of his companion. He wasn't entirely sure why the man was dallying if he needed to find his errant young officer, but it was nice enough to have company at this time of the year.
James took a long swallow of ale, then wiped his mouth on the back of a hand.
"Still, impressive that you don't take more after your master, what with your fiancée running off and leaving you..."
Will's hand clenched into a fist under the table, and he pushed his tankard away a little.
"Elizabeth didn't run off. I... I left her."
James' eyebrows twitched upwards.
"Really? How intriguing."
"I couldn't have lived with it," Will continued, ignoring the slight sarcasm in the man's tone. "Not always wondering if she still wanted... wanted him, always wondering if she might change her mind." He straightened, unclenching his fist. "I'm only staying here until I've made enough money, then I'm going to go... somewhere. Somewhere new."
"Somewhere that smells of spice and incense, where the stars have different names," Will looked up to see James' eyes fixed intently on him. "I always used to want to go there too, when I was young."
"Then the navy sent you off to chase pirates?" Strange that he’d rarely considered that the navyman might have dreams beyond ever-fancier epaulettes.
"Well, I suppose some of them might have been worth chasing." There was an odd glint to James' gaze that Will couldn't have quite put a name to. He blinked, and took a swift swig of ale, hoping it would quench the peculiar tremor in the pit of his stomach.
"I'm sure you don't get much opportunity for it now, though, with your duties."
James shrugged, and sipped at his tankard.
"I get the odd cruise. I'll be taking the Calliope out for a short run on Epiphany. If you're after the sea again you'd be most welcome."
Will frowned.
"Under what capacity?"
James set his drink down, leaning forward, and Will felt the soft weight of the other man's fingers on his wrist. He did not move his hand away.
"I'm sure we can think of something."
3. Myrrh
Jack Sparrow rolled over in his sleep, mumbling what might once have been the words of a carol, before they ran the gauntlet of the man's rum-soaked brain and whatever strange dreams a pirate might have about the season of goodwill. She bent over to brush a dreadlock off his face, and his eyes snapped open, staring wildly at her for a moment before relaxing into their usual vulpine charm.
"Good morning Tia me darling."
"Good mornin' Jack Sparrow," she smiled as he sat up lazily.
"That would be Captain Jack Sparrow to you," he said, reaching under the bed to retrieve his hat and replacing it firmly on his head.
"Ah yes, de great captain who has... misplaced 'is ship." She smiled again, and glided over to the small window of the bedroom, pushing back the ragged curtains to let a trickle of watery sunlight into the cluttered bedroom. When she looked back, Jack was pulling his breeches on with one hand, the other holding up a small jar of spiders to the light.
"What do you use these little bastards for anyway? And I haven't misplaced her; my ship has been most frightfully and maliciously pilfered by a blackguard who will, in good time, be rendered incapable of doing it again by a good bullet. And it's all your fault anyway."
Tia raised her eyebrows as Jack picked up his shirt, a calculating squint evidently trying to ascertain whether he could put it on without removing his hat.
"My fault, Jack? Not goin' to help you to be pinnin' blame on anudder, now is it?"
"Well-" he muttered, voice muffled by the shirt, which was now bizarrely tangled around one arm and the opposite point of the tricorn "- that compass you gave me, it's all the same. Blasted thing will be the death of me some day." His free hand gestured towards his belt, still lying on the floor where she had tossed it last night, with the compass tied inelegantly to it on a loop of string.
"So it my fault- or de compass fault- that you pick for yourself a first mate wid more greed than loyalty?"
Jack finally managed to pull the shirt on.
"He was a bloody good pirate, that was why I had him aboard."
"Out-pirated you, sure enough."
The dreadlocked man paused in his dressing to look at her flatly.
"I'd be making you pay for that if I didn't think you'd turn me into a crawly beastie if I so much as tried."
A slow smile spread across Tia's face, and she took a step towards him.
"Would depend on de sort of payment you be wantin', Captain."
Jack seemed to catch the glint in her eye and grinned wolfishly.
"I'm sure we can come to some sort of accord... but after breakfast."
She laughed, and shook her head, hearing him buckling on his belt as he followed her down the rickety stairs to the lower floor of the shack. The warm, muggy air of the bayou pervaded everywhere, and Tia stroked one hand over Olokun's yellow scales as she passed his coiled resting place.
"Allright, Jack, I'll be findin' you some breakfast, but I have a little business first." She unhooked a jar from the ceiling and opened it, taking out a pinch of the dry resin. "Scoundrels like you might not be markin' it, but tis Christmas Day today, an' there's alllways a bit more magic in de air at such a time."
The pirate stood awkwardly to one side as she sprinkled the myrrh onto a candle flame, eying Olokun warily as he flicked out his tongue to taste the burnt-vanilla smoke. A day of birth was simply a day of the death of something else, and as she murmured the words to an old psalm she thought she saw a flicker of something black and terrible at Jack's shoulder. There was a storm brewing, too far away to see, but it would find him in time.
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Pairing/Characters: Barbossa/Black Pearl, Will/Norrington, Jack/Tia
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I borrow in awe of the Mouse's might
Summary: Yet more Christmas fic! Three vaguely seasonal ficlets, three pairings I've neither written nor widely read before. An exercise in indulging my increasingly erratic muses.
Notes: I wrote slash. World implosion may be imminent. Plus Tia is harrrd to write, but uber-fun to research for. Back, bunnies!
1. Gold
"To wealth!" Hector raised his goblet and the crew followed suit. "May we always have it in abundance!"
"Aye captain!" Came the bellowed response, and he lifted the elegantly jewelled vessel to his lips and drank. Odd that the sumptuous red wine seemed to barely touch his palate, but he'd been drinking a fair amount, so perhaps his tongue was simply deadened. There had been so much to celebrate recently; Yuletide seemed almost a cursory footnote. His own, beautiful ship had her hold packed with treasure, more than they could have garnered from a hundred prizes, and all of it ready for the spending.
Ascending the quarterdeck stairs, he slipped a hand into his coat pocket to caress the skull-marked coin he'd picked up this morning. There was a comely little lass in Tortuga he was sure he could tempt with it, and she was such a talented girl...
"Relieved, Jacoby," he muttered, and took the wheel from the bearded crewman. The wooden spokes were perfectly worn to the touch of a hand, the Pearl would respond so swiftly it almost seemed she was following a man's will alone. He glanced upwards, and grimaced slightly at what seemed to be a rip in the nearest staysail. A high-maintenance lady, that was to be sure.
The crew were raising their drinks again, and he heard the balding fat fellow- Pintel, wasn't it?- bawling rather drunkenly:
"To Cap'n Barbossa- a true gentleman o' fortune!"
Grinning, Hector drained the last of his own wine. Equal parts fear and fresh plunder was the way to keep a pirate crew, none of that negotiation rubbish that Sparrow used to spout. Idly he wondered if the man were dead by now. The gulls might be enjoying a fine festive dinner off his bones.
Setting down the goblet, he took the wheel in both hands. Jack must have been mad, mad not to have done anything to keep this ship. He ran a weathered thumb over the rolling grain of a spoke. Beautiful.
The Pearl crested a wave and he could have sworn he heard the timbers groan slightly, as if in protest at something.
"Don't worry me girl, we'll find you a fat little prize soon enough," he whispered, adjusting the heading slightly. For a pirate ship she'd been greatly denied her rights, too few floundering merchants left if they so much as raised a lying plague flag, too many a ship neglected if the lookout spotted a child aboard. Things would be very different from now on.
The crew were singing now, some strange hybrid of chantey and carol. Hector tapped long fingernails against the wheel in time to some truly odd lyrics about decking Sally Brown in ivy. He'd open another cask of wine later, or perhaps let them have a ration and a half of rum. Let them gorge themselves on good cheer; it might prove him a better shield than Jack had had, should the worst come to the worst.
He put a hand in his pocket again and pulled the coin out properly, letting it catch the slowly fading sunlight in all its crevasses. The golden skull seemed to wink at him, as if hiding some secret in its carved black eyes.
2. Frankincense
"Do you regularly waste your money in this sort of establishment, Mr Turner?"
Will rolled his eyes and took another sip of his ale as Admiral James Norrington nonchalantly took the seat opposite him. The man was dressed in civilian attire, even his fine wig discarded for a simple queue, but there was still a slight arrogance to his bearing that spoke of orders immediately obeyed.
"About as regularly as you do, Admiral. And on Boxing Day too? Don't you have parties to attend, young ladies to impress, that sort of thing?"
"I was looking for a midshipman of mine." James' eyes flicked about the room before settling on Will again. "Irritating little fellow, only fourteen and already thinks he's the Almighty's gift to the fairer sex. And I've had quite enough of young ladies this past week." He caught the barman's eye and gestured as if raising a tankard. "I needn't ask why you're not at the forge. I'd imagine Mr Brown isn't fit for anything the day after Christmas."
Will nodded ruefully as an ale was set in front of his companion. He wasn't entirely sure why the man was dallying if he needed to find his errant young officer, but it was nice enough to have company at this time of the year.
James took a long swallow of ale, then wiped his mouth on the back of a hand.
"Still, impressive that you don't take more after your master, what with your fiancée running off and leaving you..."
Will's hand clenched into a fist under the table, and he pushed his tankard away a little.
"Elizabeth didn't run off. I... I left her."
James' eyebrows twitched upwards.
"Really? How intriguing."
"I couldn't have lived with it," Will continued, ignoring the slight sarcasm in the man's tone. "Not always wondering if she still wanted... wanted him, always wondering if she might change her mind." He straightened, unclenching his fist. "I'm only staying here until I've made enough money, then I'm going to go... somewhere. Somewhere new."
"Somewhere that smells of spice and incense, where the stars have different names," Will looked up to see James' eyes fixed intently on him. "I always used to want to go there too, when I was young."
"Then the navy sent you off to chase pirates?" Strange that he’d rarely considered that the navyman might have dreams beyond ever-fancier epaulettes.
"Well, I suppose some of them might have been worth chasing." There was an odd glint to James' gaze that Will couldn't have quite put a name to. He blinked, and took a swift swig of ale, hoping it would quench the peculiar tremor in the pit of his stomach.
"I'm sure you don't get much opportunity for it now, though, with your duties."
James shrugged, and sipped at his tankard.
"I get the odd cruise. I'll be taking the Calliope out for a short run on Epiphany. If you're after the sea again you'd be most welcome."
Will frowned.
"Under what capacity?"
James set his drink down, leaning forward, and Will felt the soft weight of the other man's fingers on his wrist. He did not move his hand away.
"I'm sure we can think of something."
3. Myrrh
Jack Sparrow rolled over in his sleep, mumbling what might once have been the words of a carol, before they ran the gauntlet of the man's rum-soaked brain and whatever strange dreams a pirate might have about the season of goodwill. She bent over to brush a dreadlock off his face, and his eyes snapped open, staring wildly at her for a moment before relaxing into their usual vulpine charm.
"Good morning Tia me darling."
"Good mornin' Jack Sparrow," she smiled as he sat up lazily.
"That would be Captain Jack Sparrow to you," he said, reaching under the bed to retrieve his hat and replacing it firmly on his head.
"Ah yes, de great captain who has... misplaced 'is ship." She smiled again, and glided over to the small window of the bedroom, pushing back the ragged curtains to let a trickle of watery sunlight into the cluttered bedroom. When she looked back, Jack was pulling his breeches on with one hand, the other holding up a small jar of spiders to the light.
"What do you use these little bastards for anyway? And I haven't misplaced her; my ship has been most frightfully and maliciously pilfered by a blackguard who will, in good time, be rendered incapable of doing it again by a good bullet. And it's all your fault anyway."
Tia raised her eyebrows as Jack picked up his shirt, a calculating squint evidently trying to ascertain whether he could put it on without removing his hat.
"My fault, Jack? Not goin' to help you to be pinnin' blame on anudder, now is it?"
"Well-" he muttered, voice muffled by the shirt, which was now bizarrely tangled around one arm and the opposite point of the tricorn "- that compass you gave me, it's all the same. Blasted thing will be the death of me some day." His free hand gestured towards his belt, still lying on the floor where she had tossed it last night, with the compass tied inelegantly to it on a loop of string.
"So it my fault- or de compass fault- that you pick for yourself a first mate wid more greed than loyalty?"
Jack finally managed to pull the shirt on.
"He was a bloody good pirate, that was why I had him aboard."
"Out-pirated you, sure enough."
The dreadlocked man paused in his dressing to look at her flatly.
"I'd be making you pay for that if I didn't think you'd turn me into a crawly beastie if I so much as tried."
A slow smile spread across Tia's face, and she took a step towards him.
"Would depend on de sort of payment you be wantin', Captain."
Jack seemed to catch the glint in her eye and grinned wolfishly.
"I'm sure we can come to some sort of accord... but after breakfast."
She laughed, and shook her head, hearing him buckling on his belt as he followed her down the rickety stairs to the lower floor of the shack. The warm, muggy air of the bayou pervaded everywhere, and Tia stroked one hand over Olokun's yellow scales as she passed his coiled resting place.
"Allright, Jack, I'll be findin' you some breakfast, but I have a little business first." She unhooked a jar from the ceiling and opened it, taking out a pinch of the dry resin. "Scoundrels like you might not be markin' it, but tis Christmas Day today, an' there's alllways a bit more magic in de air at such a time."
The pirate stood awkwardly to one side as she sprinkled the myrrh onto a candle flame, eying Olokun warily as he flicked out his tongue to taste the burnt-vanilla smoke. A day of birth was simply a day of the death of something else, and as she murmured the words to an old psalm she thought she saw a flicker of something black and terrible at Jack's shoulder. There was a storm brewing, too far away to see, but it would find him in time.