Psalms to the Taffrail
Title: Psalms to the Taffrail
-Eighteenth Installment of Several-
(First)
(Second)
(Third)
(Fourth)
(Fifth)
(Sixth)
(Seventh)
(Eighth)
(Ninth)
(Tenth)
(Eleventh)
(Twelfth)
(Thirteenth)
(Fourteenth)
(Fifteenth)
(Sixteenth)
(Seventeenth)
Rating: PG straightaway, but I've no doubt that y'all can extrapolate at least a PG-13 out of it.
Loves to Srettan for betaing the full one, and elizile for betaing it when it was about half done. And Ana (who won't read this anyway) for helping me with a detail of the French. And D-M (who will read this) for French-accent tips and pointers. And to the fantastic people at BPS, who helped me realize that my original track for this chapter was historically bs. AND to one last beta, who just finished, and who's been the one to keep me going while life's been not so fab. I love you all!
-Also, it's been a month since my last installment, and for that I am sincerely sorry. Almost as sorry as I am for the content/quality of this one.
-And also, I edited 17, just the end of it, due to what I learned from the BPS crew, so the edited bit is up here at the beginning as well. Now...
..."No. I'll just let it heal itself. It'll be fine."
There was a moment's hesitation, a decision-making pause, then James grasped Jack's wrist and started across the ship with Jack in tow.
"J!"
"We're going to go see the doctor, Jack."
With an exasperated sigh, Jack kept up behind James. "Bloody boy," he muttered with a hidden wry smile.
James ignored the quip and had nearly dragged Jack across the entire ship, mizzenmast to foremast, when he ran headlong into a barrel-chested French sailor with angry thick dark hair and deep- and close-set black eyes. The man caught James as the boy tried to duck shyly past, and James looked down surprised to see the enormous hand close easily around his upper arm. “Arrêtez(1),” the man growled, and James froze, while Jack tumbled into him from behind, not having given his feet enough warning to slow down.
“What’d he say?” Jack whispered.
“Stop.”
“I did. What’d he say?”
James rolled his eyes and wheeled around to face Jack, though it twisted his captive arm behind his back. “That’s what he said, Jack.”
“…Oh. Well I’m sorry I don’t speak frog.”
“No. You don’t.” James turned back around and the man was scowling at him. James summoned all the courage he’d ever been told he had, and tried to look calm in the grip of a man at least twice his size. “Je… je suis vraiment desolé, monsieur(2). Now…” James swallowed hard. “How can I, we, be of service, sir?” He hadn’t thought words could have tastes until he found himself meekly saying “sir” to a Frenchman, and that word was definitely bitter-- it left a phantom slime on his tongue that reminded him of the way his mouth felt after the first time he had awoken on the Marietta. Then, he had immediately vomited. Now, he could not.
The thin mouth twisted into a lizardlike smile that made its corners disappear into fat cheeks, and the man did not take his hand from James’ arm. “The capitaine(3) ‘as ‘ad a change of ‘eart, je pense(4). He wants the garçon(5)” --a crude jerking nod to Jack-- “back in ‘is quarters, and says you, notre petit monsieur(6), can be of ‘elp repairing the … euh … mât de misaine(7).”
James frowned. “The foremast, sir? Why?”
“Parce que(8) we shot it down to board,” the man snarled, digging his fingers into James’ arm as his exasperation travelled to his sausage-thick hand and put an end to his English efforts. “Alors, vite! Je n’imagine pas que vous vouliez irriter notre capitain. Et je ne peux pas endurer vos débilités.(9)” He spat the last phrase through angry clenched teeth and released James’ arm with a fling and a shove that almost toppled the boy head over heels.
“Oui, monsieur(10).” James caught his balance and when he turned to tell Jack what was said, the boy was nowhere to be seen. James closed his eyes, pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, and sighed, then hurried over to the foremast and made himself useful tossing lines and hoisting wood and sails. He had thought they would have rebuilt the mast as one of the first things. But the Marietta had two other masts, unharmed… and they were only aiming to sail to Brest… and hadn’t Jack told him that the French captain had taken a very small prize crew?
Then James’ thoughts ran to Jack and the French captain, and his face took on a sour, stormy cast. It was James’ opinion that the Frenchman had no place at all treating Jack the way he clearly had been. James had been willing to tolerate it, mostly for lack of any sort of recourse, when Jack was at least unabused, or appeared so, and was allowed out for walks with James. No, he didn’t resent the fact that his own companion, and short period of reprieve, had been withdrawn. Not so much, at least. He was not that selfish, he did not think. But he worried for Jack, because Jack was the sort of wild spirit, he’d learned, that could not be caged. He supposed the French captain had found that out lately, and it was the reason for Jack’s injury. And for rescinding the daily walks. James wound a line thoughtlessly and automatically around the four fingers of his hand while he mused further, the crease between his brows deepening and his lips growing thinner and tighter.
He took a breath, dropped the line, and with a muttered, “By your leave, monsieurs(11),” he set off to the captain’s cabin, barely holding to a walk.
“Pautonier!(12)”
James stopped where he stood, outside the door to the captain’s cabin. He had been determined to race in and give the Frenchman a piece of his mind, but now that the prospect was before him and the French captain’s furious shout rang in his ears, James was fairly well paralyzed and struck quite mute. He stepped quietly up to the door, though, and pressed against it to listen, unwilling to let himself run away and return to the mast. Steps grew louder and softer and louder and softer on the other side of the wood, and James suspected the French captain was pacing as he railed at Jack. “Depuis tout que je t’ai donné… je t’ai donné ta vie! Et tu as de l’amertume(13)--” The footsteps stopped suddenly. “Do you even listen to me?”
James could hardly make out Jack’s voice at first, and when he did it was so unfamiliar in its quiet submission that he barely recognized it as Jack’s own. “When I can. But I don’t speak French.”
“Francais ou ainglais(14), words do not seem to be enough for you anyway!” A single step, a harsh rustle, and a stumbling thud that made James wince. “So whatever I say to you now, will you disregard it just as you have disregarded all I have told you and all I have offered you? Do you accept the terms before you now?”
Jack’s voice was louder now, nearer, but muffled. “I will not. I-- … do.”
James screwed his face up, buried his head in his arms, and tried not to hear the rest. He could no more turn and flee the moment than he could fling himself through the door and put a halt to it.
[TRANSLATION KEY]
(1) halt!
(2) I am terribly sorry, sir
(3) captain
(4) I think
(5) boy
(6) our young sir
(7) foremast
(8) because
(9) Now, quickly! I do not imagine you want to anger our captain. And I cannot tolerate your stupidity.
(10) yes, sir
(11) sirs
(12) scoundrel!
(13) after all I’ve given you… I granted you your life! And you have the gall--
(14) French or English
Words I Got To Use In This Installment: quip, phantom, snarled(I know, it's a little disappointing. But look at all the French ones!)
My Two Cents: This was a nasty chapter. And I think the next one will be nastier. But both necessary. And that makes me sad, but... So the next one'll come out in two versions, censored and uncensored. That way those of you who don't want to read it... don't have to. Gotta run; feedback me!
-Eighteenth Installment of Several-
(First)
(Second)
(Third)
(Fourth)
(Fifth)
(Sixth)
(Seventh)
(Eighth)
(Ninth)
(Tenth)
(Eleventh)
(Twelfth)
(Thirteenth)
(Fourteenth)
(Fifteenth)
(Sixteenth)
(Seventeenth)
Rating: PG straightaway, but I've no doubt that y'all can extrapolate at least a PG-13 out of it.
Loves to Srettan for betaing the full one, and elizile for betaing it when it was about half done. And Ana (who won't read this anyway) for helping me with a detail of the French. And D-M (who will read this) for French-accent tips and pointers. And to the fantastic people at BPS, who helped me realize that my original track for this chapter was historically bs. AND to one last beta, who just finished, and who's been the one to keep me going while life's been not so fab. I love you all!
-Also, it's been a month since my last installment, and for that I am sincerely sorry. Almost as sorry as I am for the content/quality of this one.
-And also, I edited 17, just the end of it, due to what I learned from the BPS crew, so the edited bit is up here at the beginning as well. Now...
..."No. I'll just let it heal itself. It'll be fine."
There was a moment's hesitation, a decision-making pause, then James grasped Jack's wrist and started across the ship with Jack in tow.
"J!"
"We're going to go see the doctor, Jack."
With an exasperated sigh, Jack kept up behind James. "Bloody boy," he muttered with a hidden wry smile.
James ignored the quip and had nearly dragged Jack across the entire ship, mizzenmast to foremast, when he ran headlong into a barrel-chested French sailor with angry thick dark hair and deep- and close-set black eyes. The man caught James as the boy tried to duck shyly past, and James looked down surprised to see the enormous hand close easily around his upper arm. “Arrêtez(1),” the man growled, and James froze, while Jack tumbled into him from behind, not having given his feet enough warning to slow down.
“What’d he say?” Jack whispered.
“Stop.”
“I did. What’d he say?”
James rolled his eyes and wheeled around to face Jack, though it twisted his captive arm behind his back. “That’s what he said, Jack.”
“…Oh. Well I’m sorry I don’t speak frog.”
“No. You don’t.” James turned back around and the man was scowling at him. James summoned all the courage he’d ever been told he had, and tried to look calm in the grip of a man at least twice his size. “Je… je suis vraiment desolé, monsieur(2). Now…” James swallowed hard. “How can I, we, be of service, sir?” He hadn’t thought words could have tastes until he found himself meekly saying “sir” to a Frenchman, and that word was definitely bitter-- it left a phantom slime on his tongue that reminded him of the way his mouth felt after the first time he had awoken on the Marietta. Then, he had immediately vomited. Now, he could not.
The thin mouth twisted into a lizardlike smile that made its corners disappear into fat cheeks, and the man did not take his hand from James’ arm. “The capitaine(3) ‘as ‘ad a change of ‘eart, je pense(4). He wants the garçon(5)” --a crude jerking nod to Jack-- “back in ‘is quarters, and says you, notre petit monsieur(6), can be of ‘elp repairing the … euh … mât de misaine(7).”
James frowned. “The foremast, sir? Why?”
“Parce que(8) we shot it down to board,” the man snarled, digging his fingers into James’ arm as his exasperation travelled to his sausage-thick hand and put an end to his English efforts. “Alors, vite! Je n’imagine pas que vous vouliez irriter notre capitain. Et je ne peux pas endurer vos débilités.(9)” He spat the last phrase through angry clenched teeth and released James’ arm with a fling and a shove that almost toppled the boy head over heels.
“Oui, monsieur(10).” James caught his balance and when he turned to tell Jack what was said, the boy was nowhere to be seen. James closed his eyes, pressed his fingertips to the bridge of his nose, and sighed, then hurried over to the foremast and made himself useful tossing lines and hoisting wood and sails. He had thought they would have rebuilt the mast as one of the first things. But the Marietta had two other masts, unharmed… and they were only aiming to sail to Brest… and hadn’t Jack told him that the French captain had taken a very small prize crew?
Then James’ thoughts ran to Jack and the French captain, and his face took on a sour, stormy cast. It was James’ opinion that the Frenchman had no place at all treating Jack the way he clearly had been. James had been willing to tolerate it, mostly for lack of any sort of recourse, when Jack was at least unabused, or appeared so, and was allowed out for walks with James. No, he didn’t resent the fact that his own companion, and short period of reprieve, had been withdrawn. Not so much, at least. He was not that selfish, he did not think. But he worried for Jack, because Jack was the sort of wild spirit, he’d learned, that could not be caged. He supposed the French captain had found that out lately, and it was the reason for Jack’s injury. And for rescinding the daily walks. James wound a line thoughtlessly and automatically around the four fingers of his hand while he mused further, the crease between his brows deepening and his lips growing thinner and tighter.
He took a breath, dropped the line, and with a muttered, “By your leave, monsieurs(11),” he set off to the captain’s cabin, barely holding to a walk.
“Pautonier!(12)”
James stopped where he stood, outside the door to the captain’s cabin. He had been determined to race in and give the Frenchman a piece of his mind, but now that the prospect was before him and the French captain’s furious shout rang in his ears, James was fairly well paralyzed and struck quite mute. He stepped quietly up to the door, though, and pressed against it to listen, unwilling to let himself run away and return to the mast. Steps grew louder and softer and louder and softer on the other side of the wood, and James suspected the French captain was pacing as he railed at Jack. “Depuis tout que je t’ai donné… je t’ai donné ta vie! Et tu as de l’amertume(13)--” The footsteps stopped suddenly. “Do you even listen to me?”
James could hardly make out Jack’s voice at first, and when he did it was so unfamiliar in its quiet submission that he barely recognized it as Jack’s own. “When I can. But I don’t speak French.”
“Francais ou ainglais(14), words do not seem to be enough for you anyway!” A single step, a harsh rustle, and a stumbling thud that made James wince. “So whatever I say to you now, will you disregard it just as you have disregarded all I have told you and all I have offered you? Do you accept the terms before you now?”
Jack’s voice was louder now, nearer, but muffled. “I will not. I-- … do.”
James screwed his face up, buried his head in his arms, and tried not to hear the rest. He could no more turn and flee the moment than he could fling himself through the door and put a halt to it.
[TRANSLATION KEY]
(1) halt!
(2) I am terribly sorry, sir
(3) captain
(4) I think
(5) boy
(6) our young sir
(7) foremast
(8) because
(9) Now, quickly! I do not imagine you want to anger our captain. And I cannot tolerate your stupidity.
(10) yes, sir
(11) sirs
(12) scoundrel!
(13) after all I’ve given you… I granted you your life! And you have the gall--
(14) French or English
Words I Got To Use In This Installment: quip, phantom, snarled(I know, it's a little disappointing. But look at all the French ones!)
My Two Cents: This was a nasty chapter. And I think the next one will be nastier. But both necessary. And that makes me sad, but... So the next one'll come out in two versions, censored and uncensored. That way those of you who don't want to read it... don't have to. Gotta run; feedback me!