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Betwixt Hammer & Frizzen	By : GeorgieFain Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 2032 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Give Nothing Back

Day Ten.

She stood in all her finery on the mid-ship deck under the new flags, directing the men who used the capstan to lower the nets into the main holds. In those nets were five crates of oddments and books and supplies meant for her surgery and purchased with some part of her share of the whiskey profits. Having been ordered and assembled in an apothecary and bookshop at her hasty and half-drunken orders, the items were all tossed together for the present, being hoisted down into the corvette's largest hold with the ship's resupply.

The resupply had been purchased with some small part of the profit they'd made on Porto Rico---the harbor of which they were leaving, now, for the quiet tip of Cuba where Captain Jack Sparrow would be awaiting them. Much to the relief of the harbor masters and all sailors who had witnessed that the Black Pearl escorted the Odysseus.

The men of the two crews had received their shares of the profit---the Black Pearl's men had received only half a share, as it was not their livelihood. There were no complaints. The Black Pearl had, after all, received the lion's share of the profit gained from the taking of the Lucky Rose, the men of the Odysseus refusing to have very much to do with that sloop's holds.

The new colors had been hoisted as the anchor was weighed.

"Careful, me lads! We've medicus in these bleeding crates! No use in breaking up me bleeding affects! Not when you'll come wanting later!" Henriette bent over at the hatch's edge and shouted out to the men at the bottom of the hold. Who obeyed her, handling the large crates with all the delicacy possible.

With this going on, she missed the approach of her first mate. He came up from behind to observe the stowing of their resupply. At last, when she became aware that the tall and handsome Englishman was standing at her port side, she straightened and took a step back, to match his position. She gave him a clean, pleased smile as she brushed a thick and finely woven, white calico handkerchief at the nape of her neck, getting both sweaty skin and sweaty hair and the taggle-tails of her red silk scarf. "What say you, Charlie? We've weighed anchor and tacked the sails for what northward breeze we have. Are you ready to meet me uncle, the redoubtable Captain Jack Sparrow?"

Instead of answering her, Charles Norrington raised one hand and aimed an accusatory finger at the mainmast's topgallant. His green eyes were dark with annoyance, as he could barely manage the respect necessary to address her with any deference. "What is that, Captain?"

He said 'that' as if he meant 'that' was a piece of shite and should be instantly removed. Of course, she was the captain and she could have him whipped for being such an arsebite. Except of course that he had signed Articles as business partner and first mate. Which meant she did owe him a bit more of everything. Bugger.

Without glancing up at the flags, she answered Norrington's charge, her eyes still on the hold's depths, where the men were securing the crates and barrels. "That, Charlie boy, be our colors. One always sets sail from port with the colors flying. Once you get into open waters, you can lower any of them for safe-sailing. I made them meself. D'ye like them, then?"

"You have removed the flag of England and the flag representing my duty as a courier and envoy." Her first mate was biting off each word, leaning close.

Henriette now rolled her head back and around on the stalk of her neck and looked at the angry Englishman---who she happened to find quite amusing and handsome, to boot---with a condescending smile. With most of her upper face lost in the shadows under the slanting edge of her very new, black tricorn---purchased in Porto Rico for nothing more than a bit of applied medicus knowledge--- she had to tip her head to make sure Norrington could see her eyes. "Charlie Norrington, as a pirate, you have no loyalty to any country. You can�t work as a diplomatic courier and envoy. Me own colors are now flying from the mainmast. The uppermost flag is the colors which I did design for meself upon me first captaincy. The black represents death, as well you know. The red represents no mercy. I might think the rest could answer for itself."

"Oh, yes, of course." Her first mate's curving smile was nasty, sarcastic. "The crossed cutlasses do say much without a tongue. What does the crab in the upper corner represent? Your womanly affinity with the sea?"

He was in a rare snit, aye.

Henriette raised her head a bit more and put a hand to the top of her tricorn, to study the flags as she answered. "The crab in the upper corner, Charlie, represents me connection to the sea goddess, Calypso. We'll be wanting her to remember what love she does bear me in all her ire and bluster."

Charles Norrington chose to not comment on that. Instead, he paused and studied the other flag, with its white and red quarters. His tone was a bit quieter when he asked, frowning hard. "Why are we flying a medical ship's flag? Or did you not realize?�

Now, the men were finished with the hold and the hatches were being dropped back into place with boat-hooks, each one clanging loudly. She didn't step away, but instead turned on her heels to head for the quarterdeck. Smartly, she swaggered as she answered her first mate. "We fly that because we have a trained physiker on board. T'is as much me own as me colors."

"We have a physician?" Norrington turned this way and that, as if expecting the mentioned person to pop up from nowhere, instruments in hand. "I was unaware that we hired a doctor of any kind in Porto Rico."

"We didn't." She chuckled, putting her hands to the wheel, which was now free as their helmsman, Robinson, gave way. "On the Black Pearl, Charlie boy, I was the physicker and I did work as such when me uncle was aboard to captain. I taught the man as what did for you, mending your wound."

"I knew you were educated in some measure." He was astounded, his angular cheeks flushing with red as he climbed the few steps to stand at her side. "But, I did have no thought that you might be a trained physician."

She lifted the edge of her mouth in a curling smile as she watched their bo'sun ordering the men to step lively. To the starboard side, the Black Pearl did ride. She was lovely in the morning sun, with Jack's colors on high. But, there, below Jack's did fly Barbossa's colors. She wondered as to who among the crew would hoist them. Mayhaps Ragetti. He did owe a measure of loyalty to her papa.

Now, as she watched the other, much larger ship, and measured the distance between the two---to adjust for trajectory---she gave a sigh and answered the incredulous man who stood to her own left. "Charlie, I was trained by a physician as was educated in the finest colleges of England. He did sail with us for several years before dying of a gut wound and fever as what I could not find any cure for. Me uncle had me study under Doctor Meyrick of Wales for to make a physicker and chiruigion."

"That would certainly explain the flags." Charles Norrington drawled sardonically, his hands cupped behind his back. "Surprises abound here, Captain. So...you are an educated pirate and something of a physician. Anything more I might need to know of you, as your first mate?"

Henriette kept silent for a few moments, watching the path between the two ships. Then, she called to the riggers. "Adjust to port. Give the lady some room, men!" Finished, as the crew obeyed her orders, tacking the sails to give a another ship's length of room for the Black Pearl, she took a deep breath through her nose and let it out in a rough exhale, answering the lean, well-dressed man at her side. "I was raised by an obeah woman until I was nearly seven. Then, I went to sea under Captain Jack Sparrow. I did serve as his cabin boy and the physiker's mate for four years, until our physiker died. Then, I became the ship's physiker for two. I spent most of the last three years captaining a ship of me own as what I did take from mutineers on a voyage to Africa. Me papa is a pirate lord, a captain of his own right, and me mum is one of the meanest pirates as what has ever sailed the Seven Seas. She's also a captain of her own right. Come to think on it, me papa is also one of the meanest pirates as what has sailed the Seven Seas." She paused to look him up and down most carefully with an unspoken threat. Then, she gave a dark smile that showed the edge of her teeth. "And I enjoy making men scream."

Charles Norrington didn't look at her as his green eyes watched the men climbing the ratlines of the two masts, bringing canvas and rope around on each yardarm. Under the edge of his own tricorn, a bit of his dark hair had fallen out of place and lay sleekly against his brow. It almost covered his left brow. When he finally did comment, he gave a curling smile of his own and a teasing click of his tongue. "I imagine that you do. Terrible and depraved, what a pirate will find amusing. You seem quite fit for such a duty, Captain."

It caught her off guard. He was being coy. The man was having a laugh at her expense, but doing it in such a way as to suggest that he found her amusing and with some fondness. A fondness she wasn�t accustomed to. Henriette cocked her head a bit to watch him, keeping her face quite still and serious. It would not do for him to realize as how she was very pleased to know that he wasn't afraid to stand up to her. Or laugh at her, for that matter. She did take herself with a smile and a grain of salt. The only concern she had for it was the knowledge that, for Charles Norrington to find her fondly amusing, he couldn't have any fear.

But, then...he hadn't evidenced any fear from the moment they met.

And she did admit to a liking for him on that reason.

Hmm. That did require a bit of studying, aye?

As they stood together---Charles looking to the men and her looking at him---she decided that she could use a drink. Something strong and spiced. Whiskey, then. Aye, she needed a drink. The ideas that stole into her brain, concerning her first mate, were dangerous thoughts that did need washing out.

But, she answered him as she stepped down from the quarterdeck, unable to help the coy tone that echoed his. "T'is never a duty, Charlie, the pain of men I do take as me prisoners...never a duty, but always a pleasure."

***

The sky was bright and he blinked at it, realizing that he lay in a clear spot. Where the sky was actually visible. The trees' top bits were ragged-edged, lending a certain green handsomeness to the sky's blue-white bowl. Then, he remembered why he was laying on his back and staring at the sky. He'd been at the Fountain, with his matelot, and---the box and the key and---

How long had he been in the white sunlight that burst from the box?

He blinked again and shifted his head a little to look around.

Yup.

He was still at the Fountain and it felt like his compass was laying directly under him.

But, Hector was nowheres to be seen.

Jack struggled to sit up, brushing at the hair that tickled his neck and face as he did. He ignored all of that as he stared at the young woman who lay nearby. Unconscious or sleeping, she was, and absolutely more beautiful than even Elizabeth. The lass was dressed in breeches and a rough and thin linen shirt that did nothing to hide the lusciously high curve of her round breasts. Her long brown hair was shot through with gold and red in the sunlight and did curl at the ends, where it lay in the fold of her throat and shoulder and on the grass. She had one hand under her head's weight and the other, dirty and in need of bathing, rested on the hilt of the cutlass she did wear.

The lass had long, reddish lashes and a finely drawn mouth that hung slightly open as she breathed deeply, sleeping so calm and at ease. Her nose was a pert button, freckled and sweet. He found himself growing somewhat enamored of this lovely creature, in the quietude.

Her breasts seemed to be quite large and succulent, as they pushed at the torn places in her threadbare shirt. And was that a nipple? Reaching out, Jack carefully brushed back a long lock of hair that lay on the lass' face. She was a lovely shade of pink and white, all soft curves and long legs---very long legs. The last time he had seen a woman with such long legs, she'd been a terrible red-headed harridan named Robina from the clan Mackenzie in Scotland.

As he mused on the loveliness of the lass who lay so close to him, her eyes opened and she blinked, staring at him with shock and puzzlement. Her gaze was the very color of the sea, all blues and greens. Her eyes did slant a bit. But, even as he watched her, giving a smile, the shock and puzzlement in her face did shift and grow fearful. She pulled back from his touch and sat up fast, her long brown hair falling away from one ear.

An ear with a tiger's tooth which did dangle from its end.

The girl reached out and grasped his forearm hard, shaking him. Her voice was soft, whispering, a hissing demand. "Lass---where be Jack Sparrow?"

"Lass?" He pulled back from her grip, albeit rather reluctantly, and started climbing to his feet---a task made rather difficult. It seemed his body was off-balance now. Probably nothing more than the strange events which had come with opening the wee black box. He growled out in his best pirate tone. "I'm no lass. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

But, his voice wasn't...his. It was remarkably higher, for one thing, than his own.

He stopped, swaying back and forth as he stared down at the girl who stared back in absolute horror, her blue-green eyes swelling to nearly overtake her entire pretty face. A face that, barring the fact of its being pretty and girlish and sweet was something like Henriette's. Barring also the color, of course.

The lass jumped forward, coming to her knees---which did cause some interesting jiggling---and leaned over the stone-lined pool. Instantly, she fell back onto her rather lovely arse and gave a snarl of anger. "No! T'ain't possible!"

Jack stooped over the water's reflecting surface, to see what had frightened and upset the lass. And found himself staring at a face that was decidedly not his own. No more than the voice was. The face that looked back at him was softer, not bearded, and bore a pair of kohl-lined dark eyes that were quite...pretty. The tanned face had high cheekbones, a decidedly generous mouth, and was framed by a mane of long black, wavy hair that went every which way. T�was a woman�s face and not his own familiar features.

He cursed and stumbled back a step, shaking his head in disbelief.

The girl on the grass leaped up then and, with a growl of rage, jumped him with fists swinging. Her voice was rough but sweet and she shouted, almost incoherent as she hit him in the belly and in the ribs. "Goddamn ye, Jack Sparrow---I did tell ye to be careful!"

Jack fell under the onslaught and only barely was able to protect his jewels from her knee. Only to remember that---if the face and form he did see in the water was his own---he didn't have any jewels to protect. He took the beating and when it was finished, the lass fell to the ground and began to weep, pounding her fists on the grass and the dirt with impotent disgust and fury. He took the reprieve to reach down and lift the front of his shirt, where he lay on his side. There, instead of tattooed flesh, he found a pair of small, perky breasts with darkly rose-colored nipples. Panicking, he jerked at the placket of his breeches and, unbuttoning, discovered that his prick and ballocks were...gone! Gone and replaced with a pretty triangle of black fur.

"No, no, no..." He moaned, patting himself, his placket still undone. "Not happening!"

"T'is!" The lass howled, raising up to slap at him with both fists. She managed to get him in the breast, which did hurt a great deal. "Ye great amadain! Ye had no right---"

At last, the lass---who did sound a great deal like Hector, if not for the voice itself---fell to silence, a quiet broken only by the sound of sniffling. Something that he pondered, shifting himself to one side. Hector Barbossa didn't weep. But, the lass did. Even as he thought on it, still feeling himself all over, the girl got to her booted feet and grabbed up the fallen black stone box and the key that lay nearby and began to stomp back down the path they had come.

Jack jumped up, then, realizing that he was being left behind. He buttoned up his placket and grabbed the two packs, fumbling with his sword and pistols as they fell out of the sash he wore. Cinching his sash tighter, he hurried to follow. He decided it was all a terrible mistake, but one that could surely be mended.

"Hector!" He called after the girl. "Hector, where are you going?"

"I'll be findin' a way off this bloody island an' an obeah witch as what can fix---this!" Hector called back in that sweet, beautiful voice. "An' when I do, Jack Sparrow, ye'll not be welcome in me bed e'er again! Ye bloody, blasted idiot!"

With the packs both on his back, bouncing up and down as he hurried, Jack fumbled with a bit of leather from his baldric's straps. He tied the long messy locks of his hair back as he began to apologize, profusely. "I'm that sorry, I am! Please, love, I didn't mean for anything like this to happen to you! We both wanted immortality, aye? Hector!"

There, on the path heading down the hill, Hector whipped around and snarled at him, lovely eyes narrowed ferociously and mouth twisting in a cruel snarl. The lass' voice was hot and mean. "Immortality? Didye plan on spendin' eternity as a woman, Jack?"

Jack came to a stop only a step or two from the furious woman he was following after, stumbling. He shook his head emphatically, thought of an attempt at being charming, and then thought better of it. He spoke plainly, reaching out to grasp Hector by the arm. "I did not, at that. I�ll find a way to fix this, aye? But, for any good to come of it, we must work together. T'is dangerous to be alone, like this---"

"Dangerous?" Hector leaned close, lovely face much like stone now. All serious and angry, but no longer raging. Cold. "Ye'll nay ha'e seen dangerous, Jack me lad. Not yet."

He raised his leather-wrapped hand, one finger up to make the point. T'was a little hand he now did have. Licking at the corner of his mouth, he protested. "Not Jack me lad anymore...savvy? The goods are gone, missy."

It was the missy that did the job.

Hector screamed in disgust and slammed a fist into his jaw.

From the ground, blinking tearfully in pain at the retreating back of his matelot, he pondered the wisdom of annoying a peeved woman who still had the ability to hit like a mule could kick. Then, still rubbing at his sore jaw, Jack got up and followed, glad to remember that he had filled the water bottles before leaving the stone-lined pool. They would want water before they reached any village or town.

As he followed his enraged lover-made-woman, still carrying their sail-cloth packs, he watched the round shapely arse that Hector had been blessed with and wondered if he might be able to convince his matelot to accept fate as a pretty, young lass.

T'wouldn't be all terrible to have a bit of change...aye?
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Betwixt Hammer & Frizzen