A Spot of Blackmail
folder
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
12
Views:
1,824
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
12
Views:
1,824
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.
Prologue
Title: A Spot of Blackmail
Author: watashi
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Peter and Anna are mine, everyone else isn’t.
A/N: This combines about three plots I had wandering around in my head, only one of which had an ending. It’s a little disjointed, but bear with it.
“Miz Anna, got yer delivery here.” Anna was kneeling on the cold hearth in the tavern’s kitchen, with a lantern in her hand, trying to see up the chimney and figure out what was blocking it. So far it was a mystery, and she was just as glad to leave it alone for the time being. She got up and turned around to deal with the week’s rum delivery.
The boy who had arrived with the kegs was a thoroughly improbable shape for hauling heavy weights around all day. He was sixteen or so, about six and a half feet tall, and maybe weighed a hundred and fifty pounds soaking wet. His name was Peter, and in addition to being the brewer’s apprentice, he was also the brewer’s son. Since his father was roughly the same size and shape as one of his kegs, and Anna had never seen or heard mention of his mother, Peter’s height was a mystery. Since he was sixteen, he was painfully aware of the fact that he was conspicuously tall, and unfortunately he had gotten his height all in a rush and wasn’t used to it yet, and was somewhat clumsy. But he did his best, and he was likable enough in himself. Anna thought that when he finally stopped growing straight up and started filling out, she would see if he wanted to come work for her at night and break up fights. At the moment, though, he was standing in the middle of the kitchen looking embarrassed and trying not to hit his head on the ceiling.
“Right. How many this week?” Anna had put in an order for “as much as you can spare” from the brewer; rumor had it that two or three ships were inbound for Tortuga, to arrive over the course of the week, and it never hurt to be prepared.
“Eight rum, five beer and one brandy. That do it, d’y’think?”
“It’ll have to; I can’t afford any more. I’ve got eight empty kegs for you to take back. Five rum and three beer, and I hope next week I can give you back that keg of port. It’s getting to the point where I’m going to have Sophie put port in the stew just to get rid of it.” Anna went into the storeroom and knocked over an empty keg to roll it out to the back door. The keg made a very satisfying thud when it hit the floor, and Anna felt somewhat better.
“Miz Anna, y’know I’m supposed to do that.”
“I know. It feels good to knock something around, though. Takes my mind off the chimney.” She rolled the keg over to the storeroom door, at which point Peter took it over.
“The chimney?”
“It’s blocked up with something, and I can’t see what it is or where it is. All I know is, the place fills up with smoke if the fire’s lit, and unless I want to burn the place down or stop serving food, I’d better get it unblocked today.”
“Y’re my last delivery today; want I should look at it for you?”
“I’d appreciate it. I can’t get far enough up to see what the problem is, and I’m not exactly built for climbing up the inside of a chimney.” Anna grinned ruefully at her hips, which looked good in the silk skirt she was wearing even if she did say so herself, but which would get her stuck if she tried to get up the chimney. She went on knocking over the empty kegs and then stood back and let Peter bring in the full ones and put them where she told him she wanted them. Having finished that business and paid for the delivery, she handed Peter the lantern she had been using when he came in.
“It’s pretty black up there, Miz Anna. I’d have to get into the fireplace to see anything, and, well…” Peter looked embarrassed and fiddled with the cuff of his shirt, “if I ruin my shirt I’ll be in for it, and…” Anna grinned.
“We can fix you up with something. It maybe won’t be comfortable, but it’ll be better than ruining your shirt.” It ended up being a potato sack with parts of the seams picked out to make head- and arm-holes. Peter, in his sixteen-year-old dignity, went into the storeroom to change out of his shirt, which Anna took charge of. Peter crawled into the fireplace and disappeared up the chimney from the armpits up. Ten minutes of scuffling and scraping noises ended in a yelp, and Peter and the lantern re-appeared in the fireplace in something of a hurry.
“Miz Anna, there’s a snake in there!”
“There is? A big one?”
“Big enough!”
“Right. How far up is he?”
“Not too far. There’s a sort of ledge in there, and he’s curled up on it, except some of him didn’t fit, so it’s hanging off and blocking things up.”
“Is he alive?”
“He moved.” Peter shuddered. Apparently snakes weren’t his favorite things. Anna, on the other hand, dealt with pirates on a regular basis and found snakes to be considerably less complicated.
“All right, you can come out of there. I’ll shift him. I need that bag you’re wearing, though.” Peter scrambled out of the fireplace and reclaimed his shirt, which he ducked back into on the spot, modesty taking a back seat to getting the snake dealt with. Anna re-wove the seams in the sack and picked up the fire tongs. “Think I can reach him with these?”
“I think so.”
“Well, then come here and hold this bag for me. I need three hands for this. I promise, he won’t touch you.” Anna held one side of the sack up to the flue, got Peter to hold the other, stuck the tongs up through a small gap left between the sack and the bricks, and jabbed up sharply three or four times. There was a thud in the chimney, and something hurtled down into the bottom of the sack, which Peter dropped in the fireplace and scrambled backward. Anna put the tongs down and picked up the sack. “Let’s have a look at you, shall we?” She peered into the bottom of the sack, plunged a hand into it, and came up with a grip just behind the head of what turned out to be a five-foot boa constrictor. Peter turned several colors beginning with green and ending with white.
“Christ, Miz Anna, kill it!”
“Why? He’s not hurting anybody. He probably fell into the chimney and stayed there because it was warm before the fire went out last night. If he hadn’t blocked up the works, he could’ve kept right on staying there.” Anna looked up, took pity on Peter and put the snake back in the sack again, tying the top shut. “I wonder if I could persuade him to live in the storeroom? He’d do wonders for the rats.”
“Miz Anna, y’keep him in there and y’can bring in your own deliveries!”
Author: watashi
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Peter and Anna are mine, everyone else isn’t.
A/N: This combines about three plots I had wandering around in my head, only one of which had an ending. It’s a little disjointed, but bear with it.
“Miz Anna, got yer delivery here.” Anna was kneeling on the cold hearth in the tavern’s kitchen, with a lantern in her hand, trying to see up the chimney and figure out what was blocking it. So far it was a mystery, and she was just as glad to leave it alone for the time being. She got up and turned around to deal with the week’s rum delivery.
The boy who had arrived with the kegs was a thoroughly improbable shape for hauling heavy weights around all day. He was sixteen or so, about six and a half feet tall, and maybe weighed a hundred and fifty pounds soaking wet. His name was Peter, and in addition to being the brewer’s apprentice, he was also the brewer’s son. Since his father was roughly the same size and shape as one of his kegs, and Anna had never seen or heard mention of his mother, Peter’s height was a mystery. Since he was sixteen, he was painfully aware of the fact that he was conspicuously tall, and unfortunately he had gotten his height all in a rush and wasn’t used to it yet, and was somewhat clumsy. But he did his best, and he was likable enough in himself. Anna thought that when he finally stopped growing straight up and started filling out, she would see if he wanted to come work for her at night and break up fights. At the moment, though, he was standing in the middle of the kitchen looking embarrassed and trying not to hit his head on the ceiling.
“Right. How many this week?” Anna had put in an order for “as much as you can spare” from the brewer; rumor had it that two or three ships were inbound for Tortuga, to arrive over the course of the week, and it never hurt to be prepared.
“Eight rum, five beer and one brandy. That do it, d’y’think?”
“It’ll have to; I can’t afford any more. I’ve got eight empty kegs for you to take back. Five rum and three beer, and I hope next week I can give you back that keg of port. It’s getting to the point where I’m going to have Sophie put port in the stew just to get rid of it.” Anna went into the storeroom and knocked over an empty keg to roll it out to the back door. The keg made a very satisfying thud when it hit the floor, and Anna felt somewhat better.
“Miz Anna, y’know I’m supposed to do that.”
“I know. It feels good to knock something around, though. Takes my mind off the chimney.” She rolled the keg over to the storeroom door, at which point Peter took it over.
“The chimney?”
“It’s blocked up with something, and I can’t see what it is or where it is. All I know is, the place fills up with smoke if the fire’s lit, and unless I want to burn the place down or stop serving food, I’d better get it unblocked today.”
“Y’re my last delivery today; want I should look at it for you?”
“I’d appreciate it. I can’t get far enough up to see what the problem is, and I’m not exactly built for climbing up the inside of a chimney.” Anna grinned ruefully at her hips, which looked good in the silk skirt she was wearing even if she did say so herself, but which would get her stuck if she tried to get up the chimney. She went on knocking over the empty kegs and then stood back and let Peter bring in the full ones and put them where she told him she wanted them. Having finished that business and paid for the delivery, she handed Peter the lantern she had been using when he came in.
“It’s pretty black up there, Miz Anna. I’d have to get into the fireplace to see anything, and, well…” Peter looked embarrassed and fiddled with the cuff of his shirt, “if I ruin my shirt I’ll be in for it, and…” Anna grinned.
“We can fix you up with something. It maybe won’t be comfortable, but it’ll be better than ruining your shirt.” It ended up being a potato sack with parts of the seams picked out to make head- and arm-holes. Peter, in his sixteen-year-old dignity, went into the storeroom to change out of his shirt, which Anna took charge of. Peter crawled into the fireplace and disappeared up the chimney from the armpits up. Ten minutes of scuffling and scraping noises ended in a yelp, and Peter and the lantern re-appeared in the fireplace in something of a hurry.
“Miz Anna, there’s a snake in there!”
“There is? A big one?”
“Big enough!”
“Right. How far up is he?”
“Not too far. There’s a sort of ledge in there, and he’s curled up on it, except some of him didn’t fit, so it’s hanging off and blocking things up.”
“Is he alive?”
“He moved.” Peter shuddered. Apparently snakes weren’t his favorite things. Anna, on the other hand, dealt with pirates on a regular basis and found snakes to be considerably less complicated.
“All right, you can come out of there. I’ll shift him. I need that bag you’re wearing, though.” Peter scrambled out of the fireplace and reclaimed his shirt, which he ducked back into on the spot, modesty taking a back seat to getting the snake dealt with. Anna re-wove the seams in the sack and picked up the fire tongs. “Think I can reach him with these?”
“I think so.”
“Well, then come here and hold this bag for me. I need three hands for this. I promise, he won’t touch you.” Anna held one side of the sack up to the flue, got Peter to hold the other, stuck the tongs up through a small gap left between the sack and the bricks, and jabbed up sharply three or four times. There was a thud in the chimney, and something hurtled down into the bottom of the sack, which Peter dropped in the fireplace and scrambled backward. Anna put the tongs down and picked up the sack. “Let’s have a look at you, shall we?” She peered into the bottom of the sack, plunged a hand into it, and came up with a grip just behind the head of what turned out to be a five-foot boa constrictor. Peter turned several colors beginning with green and ending with white.
“Christ, Miz Anna, kill it!”
“Why? He’s not hurting anybody. He probably fell into the chimney and stayed there because it was warm before the fire went out last night. If he hadn’t blocked up the works, he could’ve kept right on staying there.” Anna looked up, took pity on Peter and put the snake back in the sack again, tying the top shut. “I wonder if I could persuade him to live in the storeroom? He’d do wonders for the rats.”
“Miz Anna, y’keep him in there and y’can bring in your own deliveries!”