What Would You Do? *1*

Author: Pilgrim
Title: What Would You Do?
Rating: NC-17 by the end possibly sooner depends on how the story progresses again
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the PotC characters or movies (unfortunately); anything you recognize isn’t mine (god damn them to hell!) Before anyone asks yes, Oria is mine who else could have thought up such a creature?
Feedback: Please! First time fan fiction writer and desperate for tips, tricks, advice, stuff me full of info please! I want to improve and take over the world with my genius mwhahaha! Lol, only kidding but feedback would be fantastic, send it to raukarwen_deomene@yahoo.com or review!
Notes: So far unread, so really need feedback on it.

Chapter 9 - Reunion

Annoyed she turned uphill hoping that the height might be able to help her map out a path back down to the place she had seen him. Oria paused as she spotted the fort, everyone would be so busy shooting at the Pearl they wouldn’t notice her if she was quick; she crept up the steps slowly, aware that it would be inundated with red coats.

Clearing the steps she crawled towards the battlements checking she was safely separated from anyone’s observations before gazing out over the town which was laid out perfectly below her position. Silence suddenly ensued, she froze and gazed out over the ocean, the Pearl had ceased her firing and was now sailing away. Oria stared in disbelief, what was Barbossa playing at, she froze as a blade began slightly pricking under her chin, wincing she glanced up.

“What is a pirate doing all the way up here?” She stared up into the blue eyes of a tall man dressed in a Commodores’ uniform and cursed; he raised an eyebrow, “Indeed. On your feet. It appears your ship has left without you.” She glanced over her shoulder; the Pearl wasn’t even in sight anymore.

“So it would seem. But that doesn’t mean I’m entirely defenceless.” He frowned; she moved quickly drawing both of her swords and slashing at his single blade, it slipped away from her throat but not without drawing a line of blood across her throat. She bit back the pain and kicked the man in the side; he gave a pained gasp which drew the rest of the Navies’ attention. She smacked the flat of her blades down across his shoulder blades and he fell to the floor on his hands and knees, the soldiers were now running towards them.

Cursing again she turned to run down the steps she had crept up only to find four men with their muskets trained on her. She skidded to a halt almost falling down the steps into them, she grasped the stone wall and tugged herself back upright and began to back up; the cold kiss of a gun against her neck shocked her into standing still.

“Make one move and I will shoot you.” She raised her arms and dropped her swords cursing under her breath, what a fool she had been coming up to the fort, what idiot went up to the fort.

“Seems you have me at a disadvantage Commodore.” She could almost feel his grin of success.

“Keep your guns trained on him.” He searched through her jacket and pulled out four pistols, two more swords and four daggers, she grinned.

“Like to know I’m well armed.” He ran his hands down her arms and then patted down her sides.

“Gillette the irons please.” One man departed, he paused as his hands came into contact with her breasts, granted they were small but they were firm and couldn’t be mistaken for anything but breasts. He withdrew quickly, she snorted in amusement.

“Find something interesting Commodore?” His hand tugged her hat off, long ebony locks slightly wavy from being wound up into the hat tumbled down her back to her waist.

“A woman.” There was a general muttering of unease, James grasped her wrist and pulled it down tearing back her shirt sleeve, nothing on the left wrist. He tore the other sleeve and found a leather patch; he tore it off to reveal a black tattoo of a D and J intertwined by a black rose and sea serpent. He admired the delicate handiwork but failed to recognise the brand. She watched him study it intently.

“There’s a more interesting one on my waist if you’re looking for identification. Don’t worry I won’t blush… I’m not a little girl.” He found his cheeks growing warm knowing he had to see if there was another tattoo which must be recorded. She did look like a little girl; barely Elizabeth’s age, there was something ageless about her stance though and the way she moved. He lifted the left hand side of her shirt.

“Ah, that’s ticklish…” She vied away from his touch, “Try the right.” He changed the lift to the right and drew away as he caught sight of the tiger’s claw marks and dropped the shirt as if he had been burned. She chuckled, “I trust my little messenger made it to you then.” He withdrew as Gillette handed over a single set of irons.

“We’re going to need another pair, she’s the De Monara.” Gillette stared disbelievingly.

“But they haven’t been alive for… a woman?” Norrington stepped forwards and revealed the tiger slashes; the entire company paled and held their guns more firmly aiming to kill. Oria laughed and grinned winningly.

“I see you haven’t forgotten the tales of my families’ last visit then.” James clamped the cuffs about her wrists tightly behind her back as Gillette fastened another pair about her ankles, “Hey watch the boots, they cost me more than your life is worth.” They both ignored her, she scowled at Gillette, James was still staring at her. He recognised her from somewhere his mind couldn’t quite recall.

“Take her to the cells, away from the other pirate; chain her to the opposite wall if you must. She will be questioned at dawn about Elizabeth.” The soldiers kept their guns trained on her nervously as Gillette and another man frog-marched her down to the cells. They rounded the corner and she spotted Jack, he leapt up from where he was sat as he saw her and charged over to the bars.

“Jack!” A soldier smacked her on the back of the head, she writhed violently against their grip, “Do that again and I’ll remove your head!” Gillette unlocked the cell door and noticed the hole blasted into it by the Pearl.

“Chain her against the wall.” The men dragged her in and threaded the irons through a chain on the wall leaving her hands behind her back. Forced to sit down by the lowness of the chain she kicked out at one soldier’s legs, he fell to the ground with a cry and the rest quickly departed scrambling to drag their fallen comrade out also. Gillette locked the door with a wary glare at her.

“I suggest you get some sleep, the Commodore is going to see you at dawn and there won’t be any tea and scones.” She glared as the men left laughing nervously, except the one she had tripped who was rubbing his head and backside alternately. Jack was stood watching her curiously his eyes hadn’t left her since she had entered.

“Hello, love.” Her eyes met his mildly surprised, she had forgotten about him in the scuffle with the red coats. She sat staring silently for a few seconds trying to gather her thoughts enough to make coherent speech.

“Jack? How did you get in here?” He smiled steadily, his mind in a small whirlpool at the sudden appearance.

“Rum went to my head a bit.” She nodded slowly with a faint grin.

“You never could hold your drink.” He chuckled and leaned against the bars heavily.

“I missed you darling. Had to fight all on my onesies a few times.” He smiled gently and an uncomfortable silence followed, “What happened on the Pearl, after… after… you know.” Oria watched him with some sympathy as he struggled to find the words he wanted or rather the courage to speak those words.

“We found the island Jack, I warned them of the curse but they paid no heed. Bootstrap, he never approved of what they did to you and they… they threw him overboard after he had taken a piece and got cursed himself. I tried to stop them, but Barbossa would have none of it. I’m sorry for Bootstrap Jack; I know he meant something to you.” He didn’t meet her gaze, she still insisted on making things awkward. He corrected himself, this was awkward all around, his questions would be awkward as would her answers. For once they were in the same boat and both were drowning in the desperation and fear.

“Bootstrap was a good man but that wasn’t what I meant and you know it.” His eyes met hers quietly, “I meant with you.” It was her turn to avoid his gaze, he watched her as she thought things through. It looked as if she was debating something but couldn’t quite come to a conclusion.

“William tended to it. That annoyed Barbossa as well.” Jack squirmed uncomfortably desperate to know the answer to his question. A definite yes or no would suffice, he just needed to know so badly.

“But did you…” She glared at him, “You haven’t let him touch you have you?” She raised an eyebrow disbelivingly.

“What?”

“You haven’t done the deed with Barbossa as it were.” Oria pulled a disgusted face and shifted uncomfortably. This was not at all what she had thought she would be quizzed on when they eventually got back together.

“Jack, I’m insulted you even thought of that. I’m not a common whore and if that’s all you see me as then our friendship is going to take a definite turn for the worse.” He smiled and pressed himself closer to the bars desperate to touch her and make sure it wasn’t just another hallucination. Hell, he’d had enough of them to sink an innumerable number of HMS warships.

“Never did believe you would volunteer pet, asking if he forced that was all, just add another black mark to my ever increasing tally.” He smirked, all right so that wasn’t quite true, he had been afraid that she would abandon him. More than afraid, terrified that she would wander off and find someone else, his gaze became more serious as he went back to the issue at hand, “Has he got Bootstraps’ child?” She shook her head slowly.

“No, he’s still safe. Like I promised William.” A soldier jogged down the steps the armour clanking heavily with each step the man took.

“What about… ours?” Jack peered through the bars at her; this was the answer he craved above all. The only answer he wasn’t sure if he wanted to know or not.

“Oy you, pirate get away from those bars and back to the other side, Commodore says you’re not allowed to converse.” Oria smirked and shifted slightly trying and failing to get more comfortable with her arms pinned rather tightly behind her.

“What you going to do about it? You can’t shoot us.” He aimed his musket at Jack with a cruel grin.

“I’ve been given special permission to shoot him if either of you open your mouths.” Oria quickly closed her own as if to emphasise the point and Jack stepped away from the bars with a smirk towards her. Still willing to risk her own neck and anyone else’s but not his, this was interesting… very interesting. He still wanted the answer about the child though; he needed to know, needed to stop the fluctuation between despair and hope.