To Cheat the Hangman
folder
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,531
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,531
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
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.
Beginning at the Beginning
To Cheat the Hangman (formerly “For Posterity”), by Hellborne
Pirates of the Caribbean - R
Copyright: Characters, not mine, See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.
Summary: It is horribleloselose a lover to murder. Worse to look back and know you could have stopped it with but a single command. Few men know the real story of the Captain Jack Sparrow legend, or the fate of Commodore Norrington. Fewer would be believed anyway, if they did have the nerve, or the heart to tell it. One man did, then, to set the record straight for posterity. He’d always had the nerve, and his heart already broken. Slash, Angst, Rape (as memory only – no details), Deathfic.
Archive: Fine…just let me know the URL.
Beta: The great, fantastic, most perfect BetaGoddess in the world and her pet jackal…Pendragginink!
N/A: Anyone who has read my story “The Makings of a Pirate” might recognize some of the happenings in this story. This is AU from that, as that story is not a slash.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 1 - Beginning at the Beginning
The pen scratched on the paper. "October 31, 1752."
"I suppose that I should start at the beginning."
"That would be a good place to start, sir."
The old man eyed the boy. He couldn't be much more than 17. The boy watched the old man. The old man sat, dignified and proud as a marble statue. His hair was white and had several braids around his face. There was not a wrinkle on him, but the boy could tell that he was old despite the hair. It was his eyes. They were black pools of infinite wisdom that dared anyone who looked at them to fall in and drown. And gleaming with mischief. The boy couldn't tell if he'd be told the truth or a tale of magnificent proportions. He waited as the old man composed himself.
The old man shrugged. "I was born in 1680, more or less." The writing began again. "My mother had been a gift to my father by some neighboring politicians. Her name was Waleli Adanvdo, which means Hummingbird Spirit. As she was a redskin from the Americas, she was put to work in the fields. My father was a Welsh nobleman who went to Jamaica to help against invasions at Port Royal. It was said that my father was true to his wife. I suppose you might say that truetrue: Nobody looked at affairs with slaves as anything. Me mother named me Wakvta in her native tongue; me father called me Jack. Me mother kept me with her for three years, till she was killed during a raid on the plantation. I lived, and my father had me sent to Wales for some schoolin', as he didn't have any whelps with his wife, so couldn't hire a tutor without drawin' attention."
The writing stopped. "Excuse me, sir."
The old man looked at him. "Aye?"
"What was your father's name?"
"Oh yes. Morgan. Henry Morgan."
"You cannot be the son of Henry Morgan! He died childless."
The old man eyed him, sneering. "I was his son, sure enough. But I was kept as the family secret, even at Pencarn in Wales, where I learned me letters and figures.
"Anyway, we received a letter from his wife in 1687 sayin' that he was ill, and the relatives sent me back to be with him. Don't know why they bothered. I never made it before he died anyway.
"About four days out from Port Royal, the ship I was on was attacked by pirates. Most of what I remember about that was the ship. She was beautiful, and I know I fell in love with her even then, even knowin' her crew would kill me. She was pure black, with black sails and a figurehead of a maid so fair that she held my eyes and my heart. She spoke to me of love, and I listened. I have never heard a voice so sweet as hers in my whole life. Her name was the Black Pearl, and her captain's name was O'Malley. Captain George Thomas O'Malley." The old man scowled. "Captain O'Malley was a bloodthirsty one, he was. His crew ransacked our ship, leavin' nothin' of any value onboard. The only survivors were me and a couple of the other passengers' wives. Within three days, though, I was the only one left. Since I didn't want to be killed, when he asked my name I changed it. I was afraid he'd try to ransom me, and I knew that it would be laughed off."
The writing stopped. "What did you change it to?"
"Well, since Wakvta translates to "fox Sparrow," I just told them my name was Jack Sparrow, and that's been me name ever since."
The writing started again.
"Captain O'Malley made me his cabin boy, with all of the connotations thereof. I waited on him hand and foot, served his food, and was beaten and buggered for his pleasure. It was he who first braided my hair and wove my first trinket into it. Whenever we were in port, I was chained to the bulkhead in his cabin. He didn't want to share me, and nobody would go in there whether he was there or not."
The writing stopped. "That must have been horrible."
"Whelp, the human being can get used to anything, and after a few months of it I did." A tear slid down the old man's cheek.
"Sir? Are you all right?"
"Yes, lad. Just an errant memory. They happen in old people. Forgive me. I'll tell ye about it in a little."
"Yes sir." The writing started again.
"Anyway, once I wasn't tryin' to run away, I was given more freedom on the ship, though he'd never leave me alone with anyone, as he was a jealous and selfish bastard.
"I was his cabin boy for two years before the mutiny happened. The ship's articles had said share and share alike, but he'd started holdin' back. When the first mate found out, he spread the news and one night they attacked while we were sleepin'. They gutted him in his bed before he ever woke up. I woke up next to him when they cheered."
The writing stopped. "You slept in his bed?"
"It was part of m’ job. He wanted a warm body to sleep with; I was it."
"So what did you think when you woke up to him being dead?" The writing continued.
"My first thought was that I was next, and tried to get away, but then I noticed that they weren't coming for me, and breathed a little bit easier. Mr. Carnow, the first mate, pulled me naked out of the bed and told me to get dressed and go out on deck, which I did in reverse order, not wantin' t'stay in that room.
"They brought Captain O'Malley out and tossed him over without a word, and Mr. Carnow declared himself captain, which everybody seemed to like. He told me that he had no need for a cabin boy and that I'd be free to go when we touched port. By then, the Pearl had claimed me, heart and soul as her own, so I begged him that I could stay. He put me in the galley to work till I was strong enough to do other chores.
"I'd say that the main difference between life as a cabin boy and life in the galley were that as a member of the crew, I was open game. The crew taught me things that Captain O'Malley had shielded me from, and I wished that he were still alive."
"But I'd made me choice, and never looked at dry land again really, as anything but a place to stock up on stores. Y'see, the Pearl had claimed me, but so had the Sea. The waves rocked me to sleep as the Pearl sang lullabies to me. The Pearl was my mum and my lover." The old man's eyes lost focus for a moment. "Tis horrible to lose yer lover t'murder. Tis worse to look back and know ye could have stopped it with but a single command." He sighed, coming back to the here and now. "I think I need a little rest, son. We can go on in a couple of hours if ye don't mind waitin' for an old man."
The writing stopped. The boy read through what he'd written down as the old man slept.
* - * - *
TBC
Pirates of the Caribbean - R
Copyright: Characters, not mine, See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.
Summary: It is horribleloselose a lover to murder. Worse to look back and know you could have stopped it with but a single command. Few men know the real story of the Captain Jack Sparrow legend, or the fate of Commodore Norrington. Fewer would be believed anyway, if they did have the nerve, or the heart to tell it. One man did, then, to set the record straight for posterity. He’d always had the nerve, and his heart already broken. Slash, Angst, Rape (as memory only – no details), Deathfic.
Archive: Fine…just let me know the URL.
Beta: The great, fantastic, most perfect BetaGoddess in the world and her pet jackal…Pendragginink!
N/A: Anyone who has read my story “The Makings of a Pirate” might recognize some of the happenings in this story. This is AU from that, as that story is not a slash.
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 1 - Beginning at the Beginning
The pen scratched on the paper. "October 31, 1752."
"I suppose that I should start at the beginning."
"That would be a good place to start, sir."
The old man eyed the boy. He couldn't be much more than 17. The boy watched the old man. The old man sat, dignified and proud as a marble statue. His hair was white and had several braids around his face. There was not a wrinkle on him, but the boy could tell that he was old despite the hair. It was his eyes. They were black pools of infinite wisdom that dared anyone who looked at them to fall in and drown. And gleaming with mischief. The boy couldn't tell if he'd be told the truth or a tale of magnificent proportions. He waited as the old man composed himself.
The old man shrugged. "I was born in 1680, more or less." The writing began again. "My mother had been a gift to my father by some neighboring politicians. Her name was Waleli Adanvdo, which means Hummingbird Spirit. As she was a redskin from the Americas, she was put to work in the fields. My father was a Welsh nobleman who went to Jamaica to help against invasions at Port Royal. It was said that my father was true to his wife. I suppose you might say that truetrue: Nobody looked at affairs with slaves as anything. Me mother named me Wakvta in her native tongue; me father called me Jack. Me mother kept me with her for three years, till she was killed during a raid on the plantation. I lived, and my father had me sent to Wales for some schoolin', as he didn't have any whelps with his wife, so couldn't hire a tutor without drawin' attention."
The writing stopped. "Excuse me, sir."
The old man looked at him. "Aye?"
"What was your father's name?"
"Oh yes. Morgan. Henry Morgan."
"You cannot be the son of Henry Morgan! He died childless."
The old man eyed him, sneering. "I was his son, sure enough. But I was kept as the family secret, even at Pencarn in Wales, where I learned me letters and figures.
"Anyway, we received a letter from his wife in 1687 sayin' that he was ill, and the relatives sent me back to be with him. Don't know why they bothered. I never made it before he died anyway.
"About four days out from Port Royal, the ship I was on was attacked by pirates. Most of what I remember about that was the ship. She was beautiful, and I know I fell in love with her even then, even knowin' her crew would kill me. She was pure black, with black sails and a figurehead of a maid so fair that she held my eyes and my heart. She spoke to me of love, and I listened. I have never heard a voice so sweet as hers in my whole life. Her name was the Black Pearl, and her captain's name was O'Malley. Captain George Thomas O'Malley." The old man scowled. "Captain O'Malley was a bloodthirsty one, he was. His crew ransacked our ship, leavin' nothin' of any value onboard. The only survivors were me and a couple of the other passengers' wives. Within three days, though, I was the only one left. Since I didn't want to be killed, when he asked my name I changed it. I was afraid he'd try to ransom me, and I knew that it would be laughed off."
The writing stopped. "What did you change it to?"
"Well, since Wakvta translates to "fox Sparrow," I just told them my name was Jack Sparrow, and that's been me name ever since."
The writing started again.
"Captain O'Malley made me his cabin boy, with all of the connotations thereof. I waited on him hand and foot, served his food, and was beaten and buggered for his pleasure. It was he who first braided my hair and wove my first trinket into it. Whenever we were in port, I was chained to the bulkhead in his cabin. He didn't want to share me, and nobody would go in there whether he was there or not."
The writing stopped. "That must have been horrible."
"Whelp, the human being can get used to anything, and after a few months of it I did." A tear slid down the old man's cheek.
"Sir? Are you all right?"
"Yes, lad. Just an errant memory. They happen in old people. Forgive me. I'll tell ye about it in a little."
"Yes sir." The writing started again.
"Anyway, once I wasn't tryin' to run away, I was given more freedom on the ship, though he'd never leave me alone with anyone, as he was a jealous and selfish bastard.
"I was his cabin boy for two years before the mutiny happened. The ship's articles had said share and share alike, but he'd started holdin' back. When the first mate found out, he spread the news and one night they attacked while we were sleepin'. They gutted him in his bed before he ever woke up. I woke up next to him when they cheered."
The writing stopped. "You slept in his bed?"
"It was part of m’ job. He wanted a warm body to sleep with; I was it."
"So what did you think when you woke up to him being dead?" The writing continued.
"My first thought was that I was next, and tried to get away, but then I noticed that they weren't coming for me, and breathed a little bit easier. Mr. Carnow, the first mate, pulled me naked out of the bed and told me to get dressed and go out on deck, which I did in reverse order, not wantin' t'stay in that room.
"They brought Captain O'Malley out and tossed him over without a word, and Mr. Carnow declared himself captain, which everybody seemed to like. He told me that he had no need for a cabin boy and that I'd be free to go when we touched port. By then, the Pearl had claimed me, heart and soul as her own, so I begged him that I could stay. He put me in the galley to work till I was strong enough to do other chores.
"I'd say that the main difference between life as a cabin boy and life in the galley were that as a member of the crew, I was open game. The crew taught me things that Captain O'Malley had shielded me from, and I wished that he were still alive."
"But I'd made me choice, and never looked at dry land again really, as anything but a place to stock up on stores. Y'see, the Pearl had claimed me, but so had the Sea. The waves rocked me to sleep as the Pearl sang lullabies to me. The Pearl was my mum and my lover." The old man's eyes lost focus for a moment. "Tis horrible to lose yer lover t'murder. Tis worse to look back and know ye could have stopped it with but a single command." He sighed, coming back to the here and now. "I think I need a little rest, son. We can go on in a couple of hours if ye don't mind waitin' for an old man."
The writing stopped. The boy read through what he'd written down as the old man slept.
* - * - *
TBC