Fic: "Fierce and Ruthless"
Fierce and Ruthless
Author: Teeny Buffalo
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean/ Pirates of Penzance (crossover fic)
Rating: PG
Pairings: None, really, unless you squint hard.
Summary: The Pirate King makes Jack Sparrow an offer he can’t refuse. Takes place during the Tortuga pub fight in Dead Man’s Chest.
Notes: Written in honor of order_of_chaos, who won the G&S-spotting contest for “Men of Dark and Dismal Fate”. There are explanations at the end for PotC fans who aren’t into G&S.
*
Jack sauntered through the middle of a brawl. Bottles smashed and liquor flowed over the men’s coats. Jack emerged without a mark on him, carrying another hat. It had yellow feathers in the band, and he sniffed and tossed it over the railing into the crowd downstairs.
A voice at his elbow startled him: “Come along of us.” The speaker was a ratty little man whose own hat must have seen better years.
“You’d better come quietly, Sparrow dearie,” said a large-breasted woman in a low-cut blouse. She took his arm in a steely grip.
Jack tried a smile on her. “Well, well, my little flower, this is all so very suddUNH,” he said, as the fat woman clubbed him on the head with a pistol.
He came round a few minutes later, propped against something warm. Voices snarled and fought above him. They were in one of the inn’s seedy back rooms. Jack found that he was sitting on the floor, pinioned against the large woman’s lap with his arms pinioned against her thighs in a way that was not nearly as erotic as it could have been. He essayed a small wriggle, but her grip was viselike, so he lay back and watched her bosom go in and out.
He was dimly aware that the room was full of men; they seemed to be better-scrubbed than the average Tortuga tavern-goer, and they all had satin coats and clean hair.
A face bent over him. It was massively bearded and it had a foul-tempered expression, topped by the largest hat Jack had ever met in a lifetime of piracy. There was a giant tattered brim. There were six ostrich feathers. There was a red scarf wrapped round the crown and fastened with an enormous buckle shaped like a skull-and-crossbones. It was a hat that shouted “Pirate!” to the world.
“He’s come round,” said the face under the hat. “Now, then. Before I kill you, Mr. Sparrow -- ”
“Captain, actually, Captain Jack - “
“ - we would like to know what the dickens you’re playing at.”
“If it comes to that, mate, who are you?” said Jack, trying unsuccessfully to get up. The large woman glared down at him.
“The deuce! Don’t talk back,” said the bearded man. “I am a pirate.”
“A pirate! Horror!” Jack giggled, still giddy from being coshed on the head. “Must be years since I met one o’ those.”
“Drat your impudence, sir!” snarled the man in the hat. “I am the Pirate King, and these my men and I are the notorious Pirates of Penzance, of whom the entire coast of Cornwall trembles in fear…of.”
“And very snappy dressers they are, might I add,” said Jack. “All freshly bathed and tricked out in sartorial splendor, mm?”
“Now, Sparrow, that’s just the sort of talk that makes our dear Pirate King very unhappy indeed,” purred the large woman, her fingers cutting off his circulation.
“Wery displeased,” said the ratty man.
The Pirate King was striding back and forth, looking ready to explode. “We are respectable pirates, you young whippersnapper,” he said. “We dress well, we take good care of our teeth, we make men shake in their shoes, and if we meet nice young ladies we offer them marriage. It is the Done Thing. When people refuse to do the Done Thing, Sparrow, it vexes me.”
“I’ll make a mental note,” said Jack. “M-a-r-r-i-a-g-e. A marr-ee-ahj. But what is a respectable band of pirates such as yourselves doing in an ill-reputed den of this ilk?”
“Lyin’ in wait for you is wot we’re doin’,” said the ratty man. “Cause you’re giving piracy a bad name.”
“Yes, thank you, Samuel, I’ll take it from here,” said the Pirate King. “You, Sparrow, are objectionable and a menace to the good name of piracy at large. It used to be that no buccaneer worth his salt would be seen dead in eye-pencil. Let alone strutting about flapping your hands like you were trying to fly. If this were the old days of Henry Morgan, you would have been laughed out of every port you minced into.”
“I don’t mince,” said Jack, affronted. “It’s more a swagger. Or even a strut. Let me up and I’ll demonstrate.”
“Hold your tongue, sir!”
“Er, sorry. Do go on.”
The Pirate King was growing red in the face. “Myself and my band are upholding the old ways. Master N. C. Wyeth could have painted the picture of any of us, couldn’t he, lads?”
“Ay, all!” shouted the buccaneers.
“But the world’s gone wrong.” The Pirate King snarled. “Nobody respects a clean-cut pirate anymore. We aren’t in the fashion, oh, no. And we know whose fault that is, Sparrow.”
“Tell him about your love lives,” said the large woman.
“None of that, Ruth,” said the Pirate King under his breath. But Samuel bobbed up again:
“Ow yeah. I ask you, Sparra. Do we get the girls fussin’ over us like we used to? Do we, hell.”
“There’s no need for profanity, Samuel,” said the Pirate King, loading an enormous pistol.
“Blow that,” said Samuel. “These is desperate times. Sparra, you prancin’ git, the girls don’t fancy us anymore, an’ it’s all your fault. They look at us and say ‘Where’s your gold teeth? Where’s your dreads and your ground-in dirt? Where’s your interestin’ scars an’ brand marks an’ yer tragic backstory, an’ how come you don’t wear eye-shadow like the real pirates do?’ An’ you an’ your lot don’t even know wot to do with the girls you gets, while here’s me an’ I ain’t got any.” He leaned on Ruth’s shoulder, shaking with emotion. She shoved him off onto the floor.
“Ah,” said Jack thoughtfully. “That’s the real curse of my life, mate. I cut everybody out.”
“Yes,” said the Pirate King, holding the pistol to his head. “You do. And we’re here on a cutting-out expedition of our own. Revenge is sweet, Sparrow. If you have any last words, out with them.”
“Would it help if I said I’m sorry?”
“Not much,” said Ruth.
“But it won’t do you a lick of good to kill me,” said Jack to the Pirate King, “because this thing is bigger ‘n just me, now, savvy? All the young up-and-comers will just want to be the next Captain Jack Sparrow, and they’ll break out in gold teeth and snappy tattoos like there’s no tomorrow.”
Perhaps the last three words had been ill-chosen. The Pirate King grinned. “We think of this more as stopping the rot at its source,” he said, and cocked the pistol.
“Hey! Wait!” Jack yelped. Then, calmly: “I’m curious, mates. Are you going to feel good after killing me?”
“Well, yes, that’s the idea,” said the Pirate King.
“Have you ever thought,” said Jack, warming to his theme, “that in snuffing out my mortal career you might be killing off, not just my more elegant qualities that get you so wrought up, but also a complex human creature such as yourself? One who has tender human sensibilities and fine emotional thingamabobs. I loved my dear old mother, and she always used to put her aged hand on my tangled little head and give me her blessing before I went out to pilfer and loot.”
“’Used to’,” said Samuel. “Got sick of you, has she?”
“No, mate,” said Jack, eyes sad. “Got sick of a galloping influenza, and went to join my dear father in the Hereafter, God rest their souls.”
“Then… you don’t mean to say that you’re… an orphan?” said the King in a stricken voice. The room was very quiet.
“That’s exactly what I do mean to say,” Jack replied, a little confused. “Full marks, mate.”
The Pirate King turned aside for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Mr. Sparrow, we’ve made a - “
“Captain, actually.”
“Captain Sparrow, excuse me, we’ve misjudged you severely,” said the Pirate King, mopping his eyes. All around them, pirates were weeping.
“Oh. Well. Happens all the time.” Jack grinned and wriggled, trying to free his arms from Ruth’s grasp. She was the only pirate who seemed unaffected.
“And how could you be expected to be piratically manly without the steadying influence of a father to bring you up in the way you ought to grow?” said the Pirate King.
“’E couldn’t.” Samuel honked his nose into a bandanna. “Poor blighter.”
“Let him go, Ruth,” said the Pirate King. “The poor fellow’s been through enough.”
“I shan’t do any such thing,” said Ruth. “This man is a menace to piracy at large, and I shall hold on to him till you big babies come to your senses.”
Ah, thought Jack. Here’s an old clam that’ll take some cracking. “I don’t mind being held by you, mate,” he said. “Ma’am. Miss Ruth. Though I always thought pirates were meant to be Ruthless.”
“My goodness, I’ve certainly never heard that joke before,” said the large woman in icy tones. “Make it once more and I shall bite your nose off.”
“Understood. Oh, definitely understood, miss. But, you know, I’m sure you’ll relent like those kind gents over there. And in the meantime it’s been a bit of a while since I was manhandled, so to speak, by a young lady.” He nestled his head back into her stomach.
Ruth gasped, and her bosom shifted in an ominous way. “Who are you calling young?” she snarled.
“You,” said Jack. “You can’t be more than thirty at the outside, or can you and you just don’t look it, what with your vast… charms.”
“I’m a tough old maid. Mind your tongue.” But she sounded almost friendly about it.
“Well, they say a maiden’s all the better when she’s tough.”
“ ‘Ere, now, I don’t care if you are an orphan,” said Samuel. “You stop buttering up our Ruth.”
“You keep out of this, weasel,” cried Ruth. She let go of Jack and belted Samuel on the ear, felling him like a tree.
Jack sprang to his feet. He pushed through the weeping pirates and made it to the door unhindered. Slipping downstairs and into the brawl once more, he found Gibbs sheltering in the lee of an upturned table.
“Come on!” Gibbs leapt up and grabbed him, hauling him towards the door. “The crew’s all run. Let’s get out of here before someone sets this place on fire. Where the bloody blue lights have you been?”
“Oh, I had to tell some odd types upstairs how my Pa had passed away.” Jack dabbed at his eyes.
“What, old Sea Sponge? Well, I thought he’d live forever! God rest his soul. Why didn’t you tell me?…” They reached the fresh air and relative quiet of the alleyway, and Gibbs gave Jack a hard look. “Now, cap’n. Yer taking the piss again, aren’t ye.”
“Alas, I cannot fool my eagle-eyed old first mate. But I had my own self buying it, for a minute there. Speaking of which, Mr. Gibbs…”
“Aye?”
“If I’m still alive come Christmas, remind me to send a nice card to the old rum-pot. He makes a handy excuse.”
~end~
Note #1: In “The Pirates of Penzance”, the Pirate King and his crew are tender-hearted buccaneers who never harm an orphan. Their problem is that the word has got around. These days, if the pirates of Penzance capture a ship, the whole crew will claim to be orphans and the pirates will have to let them all go. Samuel is the Pirate King’s lieutenant. Ruth, the piratical maid-of-all-work, is the contralto. In Gilbert and Sullivan operas, there is almost always an older-woman character who is tall and fat and bad-tempered and domineering and has a contralto voice like a foghorn. There isn’t really an equivalent in Pirates of the Caribbean, so far. Tia Dalma is too young and slim to fit the bill.
Note #2: Skyler, alias mixedborder, was the first to start the PotC/Penzance comparisons. I’ve also talked about this with
sovay,
order_of_chaos, and
greenlily. Thank you all!
Note #3: I stole the "large-breasted woman in a low-cut blouse" line from someone in the Pirates vs. Ninjas discussion that was going around about a month ago.