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Finding Love	By : MissMikaele Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female Views: 3912 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own pirates of the caribbean, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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An eight year old Dominique stared out her barred window out into the open sea with wide tear filled eyes. She had often starred at the sea when she was upset, a trait her now deceased mother had passed on to her. This time she starred out with more sorrow than any eight year old should have to endure, her silent tears running down her face stinging the tiny cuts on her face. Her father had hit her again, this time splitting her lip. Her father hit her a lot these days, she didn’t even know why, that was what upset her the most. He wouldn’t even tell her what she had done to anger him before wailing on her, but maybe getting hit was better then what he had been doing before. Father had been ignoring her since her mother’s death a little over six months ago, not speaking to her and scarcely looking at her, that was till three weeks ago. He had drank himself into a drunken stupor and wandered into her room and she had woken up to her father starring at her with a unreadable expression, and at first she was happy, thinking perhaps her father had come in to check on her, but that wasn’t the case. She had tried to speak with him but at the sound of her voice his face grew dark with hatred and she quieted. Then he spoke the first words he had to her in months.
“You look just like her. Your mother… you’re never going to be as beautiful as her though. It should have been you that died. Why did you get better and she didn’t!? Why couldn’t it have been you? I need her… I wanted a son, did you know that? You’re not a son and now she can never give me another child. Why didn’t she get better?” Even though she had heard all of what her father had said she only chose to hear his sorrow. She made a move to comfort him by patting his back but he recoiled as if her soft touch caused pain. He then looked at her anger burning in his eyes before striking her quick and hard across her face before stomping out of the room. The next few weeks went by much the same, her father coming into her room at night drunk and angry, sometimes he would hit her and other times he would choke her, stopping just before she lost consciousness. She now had colorful bruises all over her young body. Why was her father like this? Memoires of what her father said echoed through her head “why did you get better” played over and over. Did he hate her because she survived the strange sickness and her mother had not? But why would he be mad at that? Why had her father stopped loving her?
*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*fast forward ten years*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*
Dominique had had enough. She looked at herself in the mirror of her large vanity, marks decorating her pale face. She was going to leave tonight. She just couldn’t take her father’s abuse anymore, even though she had grown several feet since she was eight and was able to stand up to him to him now, she fought back now, punching and kicking, it didn’t make much of a difference. He still hit her, in fact the older she got the harder he hit. It didn’t help the fact that he was several inches taller than her own statuesque five feet nine inches. She just had to leave. And she had around six hours till nightfall to figure out how but she spent most of that time thinking. She looked around her for anything that would aid in her escape, she gathered all her jewelry and put it in a small draw string pouch, all save one necklace, a thin gold chain with a small sparrow charm, that necklace had been one of her mother’s that she had gifted to Dominique on her fifth birthday, she slipped it over her head to wear around her neck. She looked out the window to calm her chaotic thoughts, she looked out to the sea watching the setting sun dance on the waves then she looked to the cobblestone walkway below, she saw john smith the stable boy of her father’s estate. Of course! She could dress as a boy to get away, she had the height to easily fake being a male, her shoulders slightly more broad then those of the ladies she knew, her face while feminine and pleasant to look at had an androgynous quality to it, and her hair wouldn’t be a problem because her father had seen fit to cut her long locks, presumably because it made her look like her mother, so her once hip length sand colored hair now touched her shoulders. She would have some trouble hiding her breasts though, they were rather large and her hips wide, hopefully her shoulders would help to distract from that. She walked to her bed and began to rip her sheets into strips, so she could bind her breasts later. When she was finished with that task she raked her mind to think who would be closest to her size and after a moment guessed it would have to be Samuel her father’s coach driver to her dismay, he was a sweaty man but he was her best bet and with that she walked off to his room. She spent fifteen or so minuets looking through the garments and selected three pairs of trousers, five shirts, a belt, and a pair of sturdy leather boots, and a dingy brown coat, she didn’t bother with under garments, and she would have felt guilty but Samuel was a pig and looked at her in a leering way, so she just smiled as she scurried back off to her room to place her stolen goodies in the sack she kept her valuables in.
When she got back to her room and looked out the window once more, it was all the way dark outside. It’s now or never she thought to herself as she undressed. She picked the darkest pair of trousers and pulled those on before putting her belt on, then moved to tie her hair at the base of her neck then to bind her chest. It took four long strips to push her breast down enough to look flat enough, then she put on a sweat stained shirt, then the coat, then the boots. As she flitted around the room to put the remaining clothes in her sack, she caught a look at her reflection once more and gasped, she looked so different in men’s clothes, and any doubt that she had in her mind vanished. She could do this. She sat at the vanity for a moment to practice talking like a man, and she found it wasn’t that hard, she just had to talk with a certain gruffness her own deep voice didn’t posses normally. She was thinking about the name she would tell people if they asked, something like a masculine version of her name, she couldn’t have a name like john or David, it was just too obvious.
“Dominick.” She thought that was to formal and maybe she should go by a nickname, like perhaps Dom. Dom was good, she smiled getting up quickly not even sparing a backwards glance, leaving the room.
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Finding Love