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 13 - Nightmares

They were surrounded by the calm of the ocean, alone on a quiet ship with only one stranger that wasn’t a stranger at all. A memory not too distant, an echo of the past. If it hadn’t been for the fact that neither had known Bootstrap when he had been Wills’ age they would have sworn it was him back from the depths of the ocean.

“Bootstrap?” Will looked thoroughly confused.

“Good man. Good pirate.” He turned to look at Will, “I swear you look just like him.” Will glared at him angrily, how dare he accuse an honest upstanding man like his father of being a pirate.

“It’s not true. He was a merchant sailor. A good respectable man who obeyed the law.” Oria chuckled no longer able to keep quiet.

“Aye, the law of the pirates’ lad.” Jack grinned back at her, his eyes slowly sliding onto Will, the lad still looked offended.

“He was a bloody pirate and a scallywag.” Will drew his sword; he would not stand to hear these pirates downgrade his father.

“My father was not a pirate.” Jack rolled his eyes wearily at the lads’ hostile tone.

“Put it away son, it’s not worth you getting beat again.” Will scowled at him deeper.

“You didn’t beat me; you ignored the rules of engagement. In a fair fight I could kill you.” Jack looked back at him sincerely with a cocked eyebrow and equally cocky grin.

“Well then that’s not much incentive for me to fight fair then is it?” He turned the wheel sharply and one of the sail yards flew across slamming across Wills’ chest. His sword flew from his grasp and he was swung out over the ocean. Oria leapt up from her seat and ran forwards.

“Jack you idiot bring him back on board.” He waved a hand at her as he knelt to pick up the sword Will had dropped. She kept moving forwards; Jack stepped between her and the wheel and shook his head warningly. Jack pushed her backwards forcibly when she tried to side-step him and turned his attention to Will; Oria stood and stared in disbelief. No one had disregarded her like that before not even Davy Jones.

“Now as long as you’re hanging there pay attention. The only rules that really matter are these, what a man can do and what a man can’t do… For instance, you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man or you can’t. But pirate is in your blood, boy, so you’ll have to square with that someday. Now, me, for example, I can let you drown but I can’t bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesies, savvy? So?” He turned his attention back to the wheel.

“What about her?” Jack glanced back at Oria, she was all but bristling at being brushed aside but she wasn’t challenging him directly… yet. He was pretty sure he would pay for that little stunt later but that could be combated later.

“Oh, Oria, wonderful girl, fantastic fighter but not the greatest of sailors and doesn’t have the strength of a blacksmith which gives you a great advantage savvy?” Will scowled at him he doubted that statement after being on the receiving end of that strength to get up the side of the ship. Still, he was in a rather precarious position hanging over the ocean and wasn’t about to argue. Jack turned the wheel sharply and the sail yard swung back, he slipped from it back onto the deck with some relief, Jack placed the blade against Wills’ chest.

“Now, can you sail under the command of a pirate…?” He flipped the sword neatly and offered the hilt to Will, “Or can you not?” Will accepted the hilt, his eyes on Jack suspiciously.

“Tortuga?” Jack smiled welcomingly as he let go of the blade.

“Tortuga.” Oria offered a hand to help him up; Will ignored it and scrambled up on his own. She frowned at him; she was definitely not in the mood to be playing childish blame games.

“I don’t bite.” He brushed dust off himself, “Aye I pushed you over board, but you survived didn’t you? The sole survivor of that trip as I recall?” He glared at her.

“I swore to kill you for that.” She drew her swords without a second thought and spun them in her fingertips.

“You can try if you wish but I would be breaking a promise to your father if you did.” He froze as he looked at the swords.

“I made those. They were my first sale to a woman who wanted to present her husband and son with swords.” He glanced up, “It was you.” She smiled pleasantly but her eyes were less friendly though most of that anger was directed at Jack and she wasn’t about to offload it onto an innocent lad.

“I swore to keep my eye on you and I did. I didn’t have chance to explain on the transport. Your father, before he died, made me swear an oath to protect you if I should ever come across you. I came across you and visited your blacksmith once a year, bloody difficult as well with Barbossa. Ended up telling him that you were the best blacksmith in all the Caribbean and I wouldn’t trust my swords to anyone else. Course he put up with that and dropped me off once a year when I made the excuse of having chipped one, or bent the other.” Will sheathed his sword warily.

“So you pushed me overboard…”

“To save you from the explosion. Cruel way of doing it but the only other way was taking you onto the Black Pearl. Your father wouldn’t have wanted that.” He held his hand out, she raised an eyebrow surprised.

“Thanks are in order then and an apology.” She turned away sharply ignoring his hand.

“I don’t need thanks or an apology; I just need your trust and loyalty. Because mine won’t falter from you, just like they won’t falter from Jack.” Jack grinned proudly before noticing her glare and turning his attention swiftly back to the helm. She sheathed her blades and went to sit on the banister throwing one leg over the side carelessly. Jack watched her as Will strode down the ship hurt at having his apology refused.

“Well at least we’ve given the boy something to think about now.” She glared at him harder and he resisted the urge to wince.

“Too much if you ask me. You ever try that stunt of pushing me back again and I’ll…” Jack chuckled and leaned on the helm.

“You’ll what?” He couldn’t help but grin.

“Don’t get too confident around me Jack, pride comes before a fall, remember.” He drew out his compass duly ignoring the implication to the mutiny and checked on where the Pearl was. The arrow flickered between the Pearl and Oria as she jogged down the steps to the deck. He scowled at it and shook it lightly, concentrating harder it locked onto the Pearl. He grinned; they would catch up soon enough with a full crew and slipped it back into his pocket.

:/

James sat bolt upright in bed, a cold sweat chilling him to the bone as much as the dream and memory had chilled his very soul. He sat up tossing the sheets away sharply, abandoned to the foot of his bed. His feet touched the cool yet warmly comforting wood of the Dauntless. They had stopped for the night not daring to continue sailing with the storm brewing on the horizon.

He had chosen that moment to try and get some sleep, tormented by the loss of the Interceptor, his love, that accursed Jack Sparrow, William Turner and the strumpet who he had branded early yesterday. None of these had been in his dreams except the girl, oh no not Elizabeth as he usually dreamed but the pirate girl. He remembered where he had seen her before now, the whore all those years ago pressed against the wall with some pirate violating her and those soft sounds of enjoyment that had fallen from her lips to his.

She had invaded his senses penetrating them like a sword into flesh, hurting, stinging and refusing to heal ever since that raw display, the only display he had ever seen. That glare she had given him after she had fired that bullet, passion, pure and heated and aimed at him. There was something about her that gripped his senses like a lions’ jaws and refused to let go no matter how strongly he fought. Untamed, no that wasn’t right… untameable. That fitted with the analogy of the lions’ jaws gripping him so firmly.

Just like the accursed beast she would not be tamed by anyone but drew everyone into accepting the challenge to dominate and control her or at least to try. It wasn't her beauty, unmarred but for that tattoo and his brand. That struck a chord, his brand. He had marked her, that flawless skin so soft and yielding under his fingertips. He brushed them together, so heated as if the devil himself burned inside her. That look as he had laid the mark on her, that glare, defiant and brave concealing the pain that must have been burning her nerves.

Men hadn’t had the courage to look at him before now yet she had, challengingly… dominatingly as if she knew her spell. As if she knew he would be caught up with her scent, the ocean, beaches and heated palms, spices that scorched the tongue and nose but tasted so pure and wonderful.

He had seen the look Jack had sent her, no that they had exchanged… it made his blood run hot, tempered well to dangerous levels. Rising he poured himself a stiff brandy and sank into his chair knowing the only way he would sleep tonight would be if the slumber was one of drink. He paused, the glass half-way to his lips; perhaps that was why the ‘Captain Jack Sparrow’ had smelled so strongly of rum. Perhaps the pirate also knew her spell, so strongly wrapped about them perhaps they were both prisoner to her. He smirked, that thought suited him well, the pirate as desperate, as craving for her touch, her love as he.

Like she would ever give herself to that excuse of a man. He downed the brandy and poured another swiftly, he would join tonight in the pirates’ rum induced stupor, escaping reality in favour of heated dreams. He knew he didn’t love her; he lusted for her, longed to dominate that soul that fought so valiantly against everything. He smiled, after his drunken sleep he would beat both pirates at their own game, Jack would be hung for his crimes and the girl… well there was always room in a Commodore’s house for extra servants without drawing suspicion. Another thought that suited him well.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:
COME ON, GOOD OLD 'NORRY' HAS TO HAVE A BAD STREAK HE'S TOO PERFECT IN THE FILM TILL DMC BESIDES HE'S ALREADY FIXATED ON PIRATES!!