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The Haunting Place	By : Lktwoozee Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 11161 -:- 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
- 16
- 17
- 18
[Chapter Seventeen:
A Treat]
[�Barbossa
was the Alpha�s cabin boy.�]
The morning
sun shone red rays through the window curtains, dusting the surface of
everything an opulent gold. For a long
while, Maren sat quietly, dimly aware of waking noises in the house around her,
which she disregarded. Suddenly, things
were snapping into place. Jack�s
earlier reference to the cabin boy rose in her memory:
[�I found him forty years after the
sinkin� o� the Alpha, sav�d him from a heap o� trouble, he join�d me crew,
together we found that bay, and found Cap�n Romulus� grave.�]
So that�s how that treacherous
mutineer was permitted on the Black Pearl, Jack needed him to locate Romulus�
lost treasure, but when that didn�t happen Barbossa must have remained as part of
the crew. �And that be when the trouble
start�d,� Maren thought, recalling the torment and regret she saw in Bootstrap
Bill. Sadly, she gazed around his son�s
house, a testament of Will�s successes.
Bill would be proud and that was some consolation, at least.
But why hadn�t Jack told her?
A female
screech of sheer surprise startled Maren from her contemplations. From down the hall and approaching quickly
came bustling footsteps, all the while a woman�s voice could be heard whining
playfully, �Now Cap�n Sparrow, ye know what the Missus said, yer not permitt�d
to touch the lady-help anymore. So stop
pawin�� at me bum, ye naughty knave ye, o� I shall call upon the Commodore this
instant!�
There was a
base raspy response that, though was unintelligible, was obviously Jack. In response the flirtatious maid erupted in
merry giggles.
Now, it is
a common belief that jealousy is a green-eyed little monster, which is
absolutely a fallacious fabrication. No
indeed, jealousy is neither green nor little nor even a monster. Jealousy is an outright
raging-red-Amazonian-bitch! Needless to
say, Maren was very, very jealous.
Her fists
were white-knuckled, clutching the satin sheets and threatening to tear the
gentle fabric apart. The laughter
ceased outside her door and there was a tentative knock upon it. �Miss Attle, are ye awake?� that detestably
cheery voice inquired, forcing Maren to grind her teeth painfully, lest she
start screaming obscenities at the door.
�Ye-esss,�
Maren hissed back in a grating impression of perkiness.
�Mark me,
Cap�n Sparrow, ye best be behavin� yerself!� the maid opened the door and the
spiteful medium immediately looked around for something to throw at her head-
that is until Maren actually [saw] the maid.
Instead of the bonnie, red-haired vixen that Maren�s overactive
imagination had conjured up, there flurried in a happy elderly woman of plump
girth and grey hair who had two black teeth marring her yellow smile. The barmaid had never felt so stupid and
ashamed in her whole life! Humming to
herself, the motherly figure carried in a pitcher of hot water and fresh towels
to set by Maren�s basin.
�Missus
Phillips,� leaning casually with one arm on the door frame, Jack cooed after
the maid, �When are ye goin� to finally leave that brutish husband o� yers and
run off with me, eh? O� will ye force
me to be kidnappin� ye off to the Black Pearl and be makin� ye me
Pirate-Queen?� One kohl eye winked at
Maren.
�He aint
kiddin�, he�ll do it,� Maren said, earnestly nodding.
�Bah, too old
for such foolishness, whiskin� �way and the like,� the maid, Missus Phillips,
began throwing the curtains open to let the sunshine in unimpeded. She paused momentarily to dust the
windowsills with a convenient rag that appeared from her pocket, �Do ye requirin�
help in dressin� Miss Attle?�
Shaking her
head, Maren ignored Jack who suggestively fiddled with the fastening to his
trousers, �No thank ye, I can manage fine.
But last night Miss Swann mention�d a bath?�
�Aye, yes,�
having finished her quick tidy-up, Missus Phillips clasped her hands together
and bobbed her head every time she paused for breath, �Our Annabel�s just
finish�d scrubbin� the tub down after this one�s wash.� She stopped to look pointedly at Jack and he
puckered his lips into a noisy kiss.
Shrugging her round shoulders, the maid gibbered on, �Swear the filth
that came off that man there could�ve grown potatoes. Anyway dear, fancy ye should mention a bath, �cause it were�n no
two minutes �go that I was havin� me a chat with the Missus and she says to me
that if ye be wantin� a wash I was to straight away arrest the Cap�n here and
escort him directly to the kitchen post hast, where I�m to keep a close watch
and rein on him �til yer finish�d.�
�Wait,�
Jack snapped back from a particularly delicious fantasy in which Maren was
soaking in a tub, motioning him to come closer and wash her back, �what was
that �bout me?�
�Oh good,�
relieved, Maren tossed the blankets aside to stand, �Keep a tight leash on him
for me, please, but be careful, he�s a right sneaky bastard he his.�
�Right
miss, we�ll go fetch our Annabel then to set the water on,� attempting to exit,
she glared at Jack in the doorway and motioned him to get moving.
�What�s
this �we� shit?� he slurred, pouting.
�To the
kitchen with ye, Cap�n Sparrow, o� I shall fetch the Missus.�
That did
it. Reluctantly, he exaggerated his
slow hesitant sway down the hall, but not before shooting a smoldering gaze
that reaped utter sexuality over his shoulder and directly at Maren. It took a few tense moments before Maren�s
heartbeat slowed down and she was finally able to gulp noisily.
* * *
The
bathroom experience was decadently luxuriant and delightfully indulgent and
almost without incident, save for a quiet scuffle outside the door that
startled Maren from her relaxation.
Listening carefully, she heard Missus Phillips arguing with Jack. It seems he had created a diversion in the
kitchen and sneaked off during the chaos, only to be caught red-handed picking
the lock to the bathroom. Some more
squabbling and it sounded like Jack was being forced to return to the kitchen
and peel carrots to keep his idle hands busy.
Eventually Jack�s charming whines and Missus Phillips fussing faded away
down the hall. Apparently, Maren�s
virtue was safe again. She tried not to
feel too disappointed.
* * *
Morning was
creeping along and the clear Caribbean sky promised a beautiful day. Maren waited to eat breakfast out on the
veranda, smelling the cooking food wafting around from the kitchen window. She wore the grey dress from her new
wardrobe and had Miss Annabel pin her golden hair up, appearing to all the
world like a genuine lady of class. But
far from the aesthetic beauty around her, Maren�s mind dwelled in a much darker
place, the sick dimensions of Barbossa�s memories in her dreams.
Worrying
her lip, she thought of Bootstrap Bill and what a wretched end the poor fellow
had come to. The suffering that
monster, Barbossa, inflicted on him and Bill had only wanted to be a �good
man�, to do what was right. She had to
make a decision about what to say to young Will, if anything. After all, he should know that Maren had
seen his father, if only through the eyes of Barbossa. Shouldn�t he know the final events of his
father�s life? Wasn�t it a son�s right
to know his father�s legacy? Yet, how
the hell was Maren supposed to give the horrific details of his torture without
traumatizing Will?! It was quite a
conundrum, don�t tell Will and suffer the guilt or tell him and have him suffer
the truth. What was a medium to do?
Abruptly,
two snaking arms wrapped around her waist and Maren jumped, stifling a panicked
cry. However she was not surprised to
hear that inebriated chuckle in her ear,
�Nice bath, luv?�
Jack nuzzled her neck to inhale a large breath of her scent, caressing
his nose and cheek to the curve of her shoulder, �Mmm, ye smell nice.�
�Is Will at
the smithy already?� snipping, Maren struggled to keep her concentration on the
matter at hand, not at the chap lips now kissing her shoulder and burning hot
through the soft cotton fabric of her dress.
He grunted an affirmation, leisurely sliding his flittingly graceful
hands down her sides. Breathlessly, she
shoved away from Jack�s advances, though the regret shown upon her fair
features, �I must go speak with him.�
Bemused by
the morbidly serious expression shadowing her face, Jack leered closer to
patronize her, �Why ye wantin� to go babble with Will for, when ye can be
sportin� with ole Jack right here and now?�
Maren [tsk]-ed, her patience deciding it was too early to accommodate
Jack�s antics, and stormed off down the grounds to the road. After a second�s confusion, the pirate
followed, arms flitting and body swaying, �Surrender a second, me sweet, so I
can fetch me coat and hat and I�ll escort ye there meself.�
�And pray
tell, oh king o� subtlety,� she stopped suddenly with her arms defensively
crossed and Jack almost collided with her, �how does a pirate, with a bounty
the size o� Goliath�s wanker set on his head, mosey down the streets of Port
Royal without the entire British fleet fallin� on top o� him?�
An impish
grin graced his lips while he touched a ringed index finger to his mouth, then
leaned down to Maren, catching that same jeweled digit upon her plump
lips. �Shhh,� whispering
conspiratorially, Jack relished his victory as Maren was forced to close her
eyes, helpless against his onslaught of seduction, �I plan on bein� very, very
sneaky.�
Maren�s
eyes sprang open as she overly rolled them, �I do�n have time for that,� she
batted his hand off her lips, �I do�n have time for this.� With a decisive jerk of her pretty head,
Maren spun on heel and continued her resolute march to Port Royal.
Fidgeting
with his beaded beard, Jack watched, entranced, by the hypnotic swing of her
hips as Maren faded from sight, and what a lovely sight she made! It was perfectly clear to any fool that
Maren wanted him, almost as much as he wanted her, but damn it all to Hell, she
had to remain so cursedly cold, so vindictively virginal! What the devil was the woman waiting
for? An image of that annoyingly
genteel Norrington loomed ominously in his thoughts. Well sod that! No pompously
pussy, bureaucrat bastard was stepping in on his territory, on [his]
Maren. Because she was [his] Maren now,
she belonged to the Black Pearl. When
she had accepted the accord to serve on the Pearl of her own free will, she
signed her fate to piracy, forever.
Besides, it was an affront to all his sensibilities if Maren�s powerful
talents weren�t put to proper use, mainly [his] use. Indeed, the more his dastardly mind danced around the
possibilities, the more it became an absolute necessity that the Black Pearl
should harbor a permanent residency for a medium. �It�s decided,� his foggy musings grew solidly definitive and
Jack laid his hand upon his chest as if reciting an solemn oath, swaying and
slurring only a tad, �I, Cap�n Jack Sparrow o� the Black Pearl, fastest ship to
sail the winds, proclaim the initiation of a new profession and rank �board me
vessel, that of the honorable and nominal [medium]. Fees and benefits to be negotiated later, contract and oath to be
signed and stated upon return to the Pearl.�
He smiled happily, quite pleased with himself, and returned to the
Turner house to fetch his coat and hat, then onward to stake his claim.
* * *
Partly to
town, Maren recalled that she, in fact, had not been conscious on her journey
to the Turner residence and consequently wasn�t entirely sure how to return to
Port Royal. Luckily, the gravel road
led her straight to the heart of the seaport and directly into a convenient
sign that pointed out the markets, the harbor, and other such helpful
locations, but most importantly the smithy.
Maren dutifully followed in that direction.
Things were
starting to look familiar from her earlier escapade of escaping Cupid
Thomas. Ahead of her she noticed the
practical wooden and stone building and hurried over-
Only to
have to stifle a shocked screech of surprise when Kristy jumped through a wall,
not three inches from her face, to greet her enthusiastically, �[PET!! Yer just in time!!]�
Several
people halted from their morning activities to stare at the strange woman who
had been walking confidently a moment ago, then suddenly started to flounder
about at nothing. Maren laughed
nervously, hurriedly composing herself for the curious glances and shrugged,
�Mouse!� Accepting this as an
appropriate excuse, they continued with their provincial lives. �I swear, Christ as me witness, one day I�m
goin� to hook a bleedin� bell round
that scrawny neck o� yers!� she communicated, glaring at Kristy.
�[Wouldn�t
stay,]� the ghost stated, absently obvious.
Catching a glimpse of the dark circles under Maren�s eyes, Kristy
scrunched up her nose an edged gradually closer to Maren, �[Ye look like
shit. I take it, Barbossa�s dreams
were�n no blow and go.]�
�Hardly and
ye do�n know the half o� it.�
�[Later,]�
hastily, Kristy motioned for Maren to follow, �[I got a right treat for ye that
should cheer ye up quick as a fuck!]�
Without waiting for Maren�s response, Kristy floated away down a slim
alleyway alongside the smithy. Guilty,
Maren admitted she was glad to receive any excuse to delay confessing
Barbossa�s terrible memories to Will and trailed after the dead
prostitute. Kristy brought Maren behind
the shop to reveal an even tinier back alley, sandwiched between the smithy and
the town�s stonewall. Demonically
giggling, Kristy waved Maren down to a small gap between two wooden boards in
the building�s structure. Maren lowered
herself, sitting on her knees, to see through the crack and promptly ignored
her irritating conscience that pointed out that if Kristy was enjoying it, it
probably wasn�t morally upstanding.
From
outside she could smell the smoke from the fire and hear the rhythmic metal
[clang] of the blacksmith at work.
Her quick
hand clasped over her mouth to prevent her from gasping out loud at what she
beheld. The delicious and beautiful
Will Turner was busily hammering away at some menial project and, thank sweet
God in Heaven, the man was bare-chested!
Every flex and rippling of his tight muscles was a sublime visual
paradise to Maren�s wide eyes. He
positively glowed in the roaring fire�s light, shimmering from the damp sweat
that coated his skin. �God bless ye
Kristy,� Maren smirked secretly to the wraith at her side.
�[What I
say?]� buffing her nails on her patchy dress, Kristy blew over the shining
surfaces, �[Some treat, eh?]�
�Damn
straight!�
�[Damn
{damn} straight more like it! Now have
over, I be wantin� �nother gander.]�
Like a
martyr who�s lost her patience, Maren sighed, crossing her brows at Kristy,
�Yer dead, silly twit, just stick yer head through the wall!�
�[Oh�yeah,]�
Kristy said lamely and added defensively, �[Well it be a simple thing to forget
when one is bloody hidin� like this.]�
Abruptly, Kristy leaned forward, for once not bothered by the solid
object that penetrated her apparition.
Apparently, Will�s excursions had made him thirst, because the
blacksmith had paused his practice and clutched a mug of water beside him. Both Maren and Kristy dreamily sighed in
unison while Will threw his head back to gulp desperately at the clear liquid,
exposing his white neck and bobbing Adam�s apple to their lusty sight. The living spy held her breath and the dead
one�s apparition blurred as trickles of water from Will�s sloppy drinking fell
from his pouting lips and trailed temptingly down his bare chest. His pallor was pale and flawless, only a few
healing burns marred an otherwise perfect canvas. Maren was forced to bite her lip rather harshly to prevent
herself from squealing like a fool when she examined Will�s tan pert nipples
and the naughty fiend in her wondered what was the color of Jack�s?
�[Whoa, I�d
like to stoke his fire,]� sitting back onto her haunches, Kristy flashed a
lopsided grin at Maren.
�Ye call
that an innuendo?� Maren shook her head disappointingly, �Thought ye be
possessin� a higher standard o� perversion than that, darlin�.�
The
gauntlet was thrown and Kristy dashed to retrieve it, �[I suppose the littl�
virgin can manage better than the professional?]�
�Aye, I
might,� licking her lips, Maren returned her heated stare onto Will�s exposed
torso for inspiration, �How �bout, I�d hammer �way at his iron any day.�
Ghost and
medium snickered girlishly together, albeit Maren was forced to be far quieter
then Kristy. �[Bravo Pet, bravo,]�
proficiently, she held up her hands as if to hold back a roaring audience,
�[But let�s see ye be beatin� this one, �member this be in reference to his
fencin�,]� clearing her throat, �[I�d lay down me arms ifen he�s sword�s doin�
the thrustin� and lungin�!]�
An
involuntary, and most unattractive, snort sounded from Maren�s nose, while
vainly attempting to swallow her giggles.
This only added to the hilarity of the situation and both were shaking
with hysterical guffaws. Kristy had
tears in her eyes and Maren�s face was blue, trapped in the perpetual laughter
of struggling not to laugh. �I guess
every good [Turner] deserves another,� Maren barely suppressed another
grotesque snort.
�[Nay!]�
excited with a new musing, Kristy flapped her arms about, �[Even better, every
good {Turner} deserves {an-Attle}!]�
Maren silently clapped her hands, her smiling dimples dominating her
face.
The swift
clutter of the front door opening in the smithy quickly settled the two snoops
down. In the doorway, with a carry
whicker basket over her arm, Elizabeth huffed regally, �William Turner!� Swiping his tongue over his lips nervously,
but still appearing incredibly sexy, Will spun about to smile awkwardly at his
wife. She drilled on, �You, yet again,
despite my previous grievances as to the matter, have left for work without
partaking in breakfast�wh-why are you half-naked?� Elizabeth raked her brown
eyes over Will�s body.
The tiniest
flush crossed his cheeks, yet he juvenilely shrugged, �It does get quite stuffy
in here and no one ever comes this early for business.�
�Well you
should at least lock the door,� she said this while reaching for the brass keys
that hung on a hook next to the shop door and locked it firmly, �Lest some poor
lady should happen upon you, shirtless and brawny, and suffer the onslaught of
falling madly and passionately in love with you.�
�Is that
how call it? �Suffer� in love with me?�
boyishly, he moped, yet kept a mischievous glint to the eyes that glanced up at
her over his handsome brow.
�I suppose
that is up to you, are you going to eat your breakfast without fuss or
grumble?�
He flashed
a divinely endearing smile that made Elizabeth�s eyes seemingly darker, �Permit
me a minute to finish this and then you shall �suffer� my company for
breakfast.� Quickly, he spun about to
finish chiseling at the red metal, oblivious to the wanton burn of his wife�s
gaze latched upon the flexing arc of his back.
Elizabeth unsuccessfully tried to lay out the meal she had packed in her
basket upon the workman�s table, but her wandering mind and eyes kept leaping
indulgently back to Will.
Elizabeth,
so much like Jack, was impulsive. Maybe
not in the exploding hedonistic way Jack managed to be impulsive, but in a
decisive calculating impulsion that had saved her from many a tight fix. That impulse was presently making her hands
itch and pulse quicken. Gnawing
thoughtfully on her cheek, Elizabeth�s sight darted from Will to the door, the
door back to Will, and from Will to the falling of his trousers on his slim
hips, which he vaguely pulled up only to have them slip dangerously low
again. Who was she to deny an impulse?
Will paused
his assault on the anvil, to peer down curiously at the two pale hands that
were now petting his flat stomach. The
arms were wrapped about his waist.
Steadily and with eyebrows shooting skyward, Will turned about to face
Elizabeth, sucking in a sharp breath when he gathered her expression. His Elizabeth, who had spent a lifetime
forced to stifle and hide her emotions all in the name of pretentious
propriety, was the perfect picture of lust.
Breathing shallow, eyes wide and pleading, all the color had drained
from her graceful face, leaving her pale as porcelain and just as soft to his
questing touch. He whispered to her,
�Eliza-,� but was silenced by the seal of her parted lips, roughly demanding
the surrender of his kiss. Desperate
whimpers sounded from her dove throat as Will responded, ravenously plunging
his tongue into her welcome mouth.
There never was a more painstakingly thorough kisser then Will. Each time he kissed his fair lady, he
renewed a vast exploration of her generous mouth, exposing every crevice and
tooth to his taste, as if they had never kissed before.
Eventually,
Elizabeth was strained to tear her lips away from that devil�s tongue, unless
she wished to faint from asphyxiation.
Unperturbed, the blacksmith continued his assault on her slim neck,
sliding leisurely from her ear down to her collarbone and up again with
punctuating nips and bites.
�Umm,�
anxiously, Maren glanced at Kristy, �ye do�n think they �tend to�right here in
the shop, do ye?�
�[Dear
Lord,]� Kristy pensively sighed, �[I buggery-well hope so.]�
Almost in
time to answer Maren�s question, Elizabeth moaned urgently, clutching Will by
his wavy locks as he persisted to nibble her nape, �I want you William, I
[need] you, please darling.�
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The Haunting Place