[Fanfic] Jack Tar - (1/?)
Title: Jack Tar - Prologue (1/?)
Rating: T
Pairing: Eventually Couger/Jensen, Pooch/Jolene, and some Roque/Clay and Clay/Aisha.
Warnings: Seriously AU - Here be pirates! WIP. Reference to rape/child abuse and violence. Pseudo-historical setting. I'll add others as they become necessary.
Summery: The Loser's Bet was a fine ship with a fine crew. Alright, maybe she had more holes than a whore's stocking and a crew that were puzzling over the invitations to dine at His Majesty's Pleasure in a Navy brig a week on Thursday. Then Jensen tripped over an unconcious man and decided to keep him and somehow this led to re-Christening the boat Winner's Luck. Clay had no idea how; he was just the Captain.
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, I am merely borrowing them for entertainment purposes. They belong to Andy Diggle and Jock.
A/N: I'm sorry this isn't the next chapter of Recreating Camelot. I'm getting there I promise you. This has been floating around in my head for a while Hope you like it.
He could not remember his mother. Sometimes, when he woke from a dream he thought he might be able to hear her voice echoing in his ears before it faded alongside the fuzziness of sleep. He had been told by the hawk-nosed priest that his mother had died of smallpox not long after he had taken his first steps, but he had also heard the soldiers talking. His father cared not a jot for him, and had held his mother in even lower regard; his father had lost all interest in her as her abdomen had swelled as he grew in her womb. He hoped she had been just another victim of the Spanish Plague, but he did not believe the priest who felt no compunction to keep the oaths he had sworn to his god, who had watched him as he grew with the same feral hunger that left the servant girls holding back sobs in the darkness after the soldiers satisfied their appetite.
He did not regret killing the priest when his attention had drifted from him to little Maria anymore than he lamented the deaths of the soldiers. He had always had keen sight and their gleaming armour couldn’t protect them from a knife in the dark as they lay sleeping. He felt some sadness as he passed Maria to the eldest of the women when it was time for them to go their separate ways but he trusted the woman who had cared for him in his mother’s place. She was strong - stronger than himself - and he hoped that some of that strength would be gifted to Maria as she grew to a woman in a world that was more perilous than ever before.
With one last glance at the faint footprints that Maria had left in the earth, he turned and headed east.
_-~^~-_
Jensen dodged one of Roque’s knives with a yelp before tripping on something in the undergrowth. He spluttered at the face full of plant detritus he received and turned to look at whatever had tripped him up.
“Oh, shit! Clay! Clay!” Jensen shouted as he fumbled to check for a pulse. “You had better not be dead, you bastard. If you are, I’ll bring you back and kill you myself. With the blunt end of a spoon and wishful thinking. “
“What now, Jensen?” Clay stomped towards him and in his frustration made no attempt to keep the noise to a minimum. They’d been stuck on this stretch of the coast for nearly a month and the Loser’s Bet still wasn’t sea worthy. He found himself literally looking over his shoulder for the Navy ship on the horizon with increasing frequency the longer the repairs took.
Jensen merely stood and pointed down at the body which lay prone on the ground, shivering with fever. “Can we keep him?”
“He isn’t a pet, Jensen.” Clay looked down and considered the body, considering. “Take him to Pooch. If he lives he’ll be your responsibility.” He turned and stalked back to the beach. “Roque-“
Jensen stopped listening as he bent to check his new friend for any obvious injuries before he shrugged and heaved the unconscious man over his shoulders. “You better appreciate this, Sleeping Beauty, because I don’t threaten my delicate constitution for just anybody.”
Rating: T
Pairing: Eventually Couger/Jensen, Pooch/Jolene, and some Roque/Clay and Clay/Aisha.
Warnings: Seriously AU - Here be pirates! WIP. Reference to rape/child abuse and violence. Pseudo-historical setting. I'll add others as they become necessary.
Summery: The Loser's Bet was a fine ship with a fine crew. Alright, maybe she had more holes than a whore's stocking and a crew that were puzzling over the invitations to dine at His Majesty's Pleasure in a Navy brig a week on Thursday. Then Jensen tripped over an unconcious man and decided to keep him and somehow this led to re-Christening the boat Winner's Luck. Clay had no idea how; he was just the Captain.
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me, I am merely borrowing them for entertainment purposes. They belong to Andy Diggle and Jock.
A/N: I'm sorry this isn't the next chapter of Recreating Camelot. I'm getting there I promise you. This has been floating around in my head for a while Hope you like it.
He could not remember his mother. Sometimes, when he woke from a dream he thought he might be able to hear her voice echoing in his ears before it faded alongside the fuzziness of sleep. He had been told by the hawk-nosed priest that his mother had died of smallpox not long after he had taken his first steps, but he had also heard the soldiers talking. His father cared not a jot for him, and had held his mother in even lower regard; his father had lost all interest in her as her abdomen had swelled as he grew in her womb. He hoped she had been just another victim of the Spanish Plague, but he did not believe the priest who felt no compunction to keep the oaths he had sworn to his god, who had watched him as he grew with the same feral hunger that left the servant girls holding back sobs in the darkness after the soldiers satisfied their appetite.
He did not regret killing the priest when his attention had drifted from him to little Maria anymore than he lamented the deaths of the soldiers. He had always had keen sight and their gleaming armour couldn’t protect them from a knife in the dark as they lay sleeping. He felt some sadness as he passed Maria to the eldest of the women when it was time for them to go their separate ways but he trusted the woman who had cared for him in his mother’s place. She was strong - stronger than himself - and he hoped that some of that strength would be gifted to Maria as she grew to a woman in a world that was more perilous than ever before.
With one last glance at the faint footprints that Maria had left in the earth, he turned and headed east.
_-~^~-_
Jensen dodged one of Roque’s knives with a yelp before tripping on something in the undergrowth. He spluttered at the face full of plant detritus he received and turned to look at whatever had tripped him up.
“Oh, shit! Clay! Clay!” Jensen shouted as he fumbled to check for a pulse. “You had better not be dead, you bastard. If you are, I’ll bring you back and kill you myself. With the blunt end of a spoon and wishful thinking. “
“What now, Jensen?” Clay stomped towards him and in his frustration made no attempt to keep the noise to a minimum. They’d been stuck on this stretch of the coast for nearly a month and the Loser’s Bet still wasn’t sea worthy. He found himself literally looking over his shoulder for the Navy ship on the horizon with increasing frequency the longer the repairs took.
Jensen merely stood and pointed down at the body which lay prone on the ground, shivering with fever. “Can we keep him?”
“He isn’t a pet, Jensen.” Clay looked down and considered the body, considering. “Take him to Pooch. If he lives he’ll be your responsibility.” He turned and stalked back to the beach. “Roque-“
Jensen stopped listening as he bent to check his new friend for any obvious injuries before he shrugged and heaved the unconscious man over his shoulders. “You better appreciate this, Sleeping Beauty, because I don’t threaten my delicate constitution for just anybody.”