Taming A Dragon
folder
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
29
Views:
1,839
Reviews:
13
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
29
Views:
1,839
Reviews:
13
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.
Chapter 4 - Introductions
Author: Pilgrim
Title: Taming A Dragon
Rating: NC-17 by the end possibly sooner depends on the story progresses
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the PotC characters or movies (unfortunately); anything you recognize isn’t mine although that shouldn’t be much in this fan fiction.
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!
Notes: So far unread, so really need feedback on it.
Chapter 4 – Introductions
Jack stalked authoritively about his ship for a few more moments before realising the girl was just stood there watching him, her hip jutting cockily and her arms folded over her chest. He paused and regarded her intently before deciding to leave her waiting for a few more minutes while he checked over his beloved Pearl. Half an hour later he motioned for her to follow him into his cabin, she stalked after him. Slowly Jack gathered together some old rags and sank into his familiar chair with a pleased sigh as he wriggled around to get the cushioning just right. He motioned for her to drag a chair over.
“I prefer to stand.” Jack shrugged and began to unwind a set of rags.
“What is your name?” She glared at him.
“You know my name.” He chuckled pleasantly ignoring the fury in her voice.
“I meant your full name, you know surname and all.” Her arms folded again.
“That is not of your business and will do you no good anyway.” Jack pouted.
“Well this is not a good start to our friendship.” She laughed harshly.
“Friendship. There’s no such thing, I am your slave as by contract.” He winced at the word.
“Tell you what I’ll give you a new deal, in exchange for your surname I’ll give you the same privileges as any other crew man we pick up. What say you to that? In fact I’ll do better, what say you to being a higher ranking crew man, say you answer only to me and otherwise have free rein, savvy?” Oria was watching him curiously; this was not what she had been expecting. She tilted her chin and thought the offer through, the likelihood of him following through with his promises was bleak according to her past experiences, but then she needed this man to complete her plan. Oria held out her hand.
“Deal.” He shook it with a grin.
“Good, now what’s your full name?” She smirked.
“See for yourself.” Lifting the right hand side of her shirt up she watched as his eyes widened perceptibly. The pride in her smirk couldn’t be hidden anymore as she saw the recognition on the mans face and the well known reaction that always accompanied it. Fear… fear of the name, the stories.
“You’re a… that’s not possible. They died out nearly a hundred years ago.” Oria rolled her eyes.
“I was born 22nd September 1613, ninety-eight years ago. I was captured by Davy Jones when I was twenty years old in 1633.” Jack was staring in disbelief.
“Then why aren’t you, you know… all crusty?” He gestured randomly at her body, Oria raised an eyebrow.
“What? Would you prefer me to be ‘crusty’ as you so kindly put it?” Jack shook his head.
“No, just wondering why.” Oria leaned forward conspiratorially.
“What good is a woman if she can’t seduce men into joining a crew of the damned? How attracted do you think they would be if I was… ‘crusty’?” Jack nodded, his gaze on her chest, the way she was leaning was leaving a nice peep hole down.
“I can see the advantages of that yes.” She growled dangerously.
“My eyes are up here.” His eyes fled to hers pretty sure that if they hadn’t she was fully amenable to smacking him to kingdom come and back again with added side trips.
“Sorry, force of habit.” She stood back up and folded her arms over her chest with a glare that spoke volumes about how much she wished she had won. Jack grinned and began again trying to bandage up his arm that she had slashed into. Oria watched him as he struggled to keep one end still and the other winding, for five minutes he attempted to stop one end chasing the other round his arm in an endless round of cat and mouse. With a sigh of frustration he began to pick the new knot out.
“You’re going to need to get an iron to that. It won’t stop bleeding otherwise.” Jack glared at her accusingly.
“You should know, you did it!” Oria rolled her eyes and strode around the desk; she was landed with baby-sitting some nut job with the emotional equivalent of a five year old. She reached for his arm to inspect the wound; he held it away from her, “No.” Rolling her eyes she grasped his wrist and dragged it towards her he gave an indignant cry and tried to tug it back from her grasp. She tightened her grasp and glared at him.
“Stop being such a baby. I’m not going to hurt you intentionally.” He scowled at her as she studied the mess of skin and blood.
“That wasn’t the impression I first got.” He went silent at her glare, he felt pretty sure that if the daggers she had been sending him had been real he would now be a bloody mess on the floor. After several minutes of silence Jack broke it with a squawk of pain as her finger brushed over a tender spot. He dragged his arm free and clutched it to his chest.
“Are all men nowadays such wimps or am I just lucky?” Jack scowled at her and went silent; he decided he wasn’t at all keen on the girl, “I’m going to go and get an iron heated up, do you have any rum on this tub?” Jack began to splutter a response.
“This is not a tub! This is the Black Pearl, soon to be greatest pirate ship the world has ever known.” Oria gritted her teeth on instinct and fought to control herself and not end his life, Jack noticed it, “The Tigress…” She stalked out of the room before he got to finish and returned a few minutes later with a hot iron and cleaner bandages. He watched quietly as she soaked a rag and wiped out the wound gently before pressing a piece of wood wrapped in cloth to his lips. He looked at her as if she was insane.
“Bite it when I press the iron to the wound. Trust me when I say you’ll want it.” Jack reached out and took it in his right hand, before raising it to his mouth, her eyes lighted on the P brand, “I see you already know the feel of a burn. This will be far worse.” Jack placed the wooden piece in between his teeth and gripped his left hand onto the arm of the chair.
Without warning Oria pressed the iron against the open wound. Jack leapt in his chair at the sudden burn; the stench of burning flesh rose up sickeningly. Oria met his gaze soundly before returning it to the iron as she rolled it over onto the other half of the wound. Finally satisfied that the wounds were sealed she placed the iron in a bucket of sea water to cool, Jack spat out the wood. He had been grateful for it, he was sure his teeth would have shattered against each other without it. She poured some more rum over the sealed wound and began to wrap bandages about it tightly.
“Couldn’t you have been a bit more gentle?” Her eyes didn’t falter from their tracking of the bandage.
“No, that would only have prolonged the pain, pointless in my opinion unless you wish to be tortured?” Her cocked eyebrow suggested she wasn’t joking; Jack shook his head and leaned back feeling weary. She handed him the bottle of rum, “Down that, it’ll ease the pain.” He studied the fetid liquid.
“I don’t drink rum.” She burst out laughing until she saw his face and the laugh died as quickly as it had appeared.
“Are you or are you not a pirate?” Jack studied the liquid curiously.
“Sailors drink rum, I am a Captain.” Oria stared at him.
“A pirate Captain?” He contemplated this; she waved a hand at him, “Just drink the damn stuff and shut up.” Jack scowled at her.
“I thought I was in charge?” She turned with a sarcastic sneer.
“And you’re in a state to protest?” Jack paused, she sighed suddenly and nodded, “Look, just drink it or don’t. I’m not lying it will ease the pain and probably knock you out for several hours if you’ve never drunk the stuff before. Some advice though, small sips at first.” Jack regarded the liquid suspiciously.
“Why?” Oria smirked.
“Find out for yourself… if you dare.” She left to tend to the ship and familiarise herself with the new setup.
Title: Taming A Dragon
Rating: NC-17 by the end possibly sooner depends on the story progresses
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the PotC characters or movies (unfortunately); anything you recognize isn’t mine although that shouldn’t be much in this fan fiction.
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!
Notes: So far unread, so really need feedback on it.
Chapter 4 – Introductions
Jack stalked authoritively about his ship for a few more moments before realising the girl was just stood there watching him, her hip jutting cockily and her arms folded over her chest. He paused and regarded her intently before deciding to leave her waiting for a few more minutes while he checked over his beloved Pearl. Half an hour later he motioned for her to follow him into his cabin, she stalked after him. Slowly Jack gathered together some old rags and sank into his familiar chair with a pleased sigh as he wriggled around to get the cushioning just right. He motioned for her to drag a chair over.
“I prefer to stand.” Jack shrugged and began to unwind a set of rags.
“What is your name?” She glared at him.
“You know my name.” He chuckled pleasantly ignoring the fury in her voice.
“I meant your full name, you know surname and all.” Her arms folded again.
“That is not of your business and will do you no good anyway.” Jack pouted.
“Well this is not a good start to our friendship.” She laughed harshly.
“Friendship. There’s no such thing, I am your slave as by contract.” He winced at the word.
“Tell you what I’ll give you a new deal, in exchange for your surname I’ll give you the same privileges as any other crew man we pick up. What say you to that? In fact I’ll do better, what say you to being a higher ranking crew man, say you answer only to me and otherwise have free rein, savvy?” Oria was watching him curiously; this was not what she had been expecting. She tilted her chin and thought the offer through, the likelihood of him following through with his promises was bleak according to her past experiences, but then she needed this man to complete her plan. Oria held out her hand.
“Deal.” He shook it with a grin.
“Good, now what’s your full name?” She smirked.
“See for yourself.” Lifting the right hand side of her shirt up she watched as his eyes widened perceptibly. The pride in her smirk couldn’t be hidden anymore as she saw the recognition on the mans face and the well known reaction that always accompanied it. Fear… fear of the name, the stories.
“You’re a… that’s not possible. They died out nearly a hundred years ago.” Oria rolled her eyes.
“I was born 22nd September 1613, ninety-eight years ago. I was captured by Davy Jones when I was twenty years old in 1633.” Jack was staring in disbelief.
“Then why aren’t you, you know… all crusty?” He gestured randomly at her body, Oria raised an eyebrow.
“What? Would you prefer me to be ‘crusty’ as you so kindly put it?” Jack shook his head.
“No, just wondering why.” Oria leaned forward conspiratorially.
“What good is a woman if she can’t seduce men into joining a crew of the damned? How attracted do you think they would be if I was… ‘crusty’?” Jack nodded, his gaze on her chest, the way she was leaning was leaving a nice peep hole down.
“I can see the advantages of that yes.” She growled dangerously.
“My eyes are up here.” His eyes fled to hers pretty sure that if they hadn’t she was fully amenable to smacking him to kingdom come and back again with added side trips.
“Sorry, force of habit.” She stood back up and folded her arms over her chest with a glare that spoke volumes about how much she wished she had won. Jack grinned and began again trying to bandage up his arm that she had slashed into. Oria watched him as he struggled to keep one end still and the other winding, for five minutes he attempted to stop one end chasing the other round his arm in an endless round of cat and mouse. With a sigh of frustration he began to pick the new knot out.
“You’re going to need to get an iron to that. It won’t stop bleeding otherwise.” Jack glared at her accusingly.
“You should know, you did it!” Oria rolled her eyes and strode around the desk; she was landed with baby-sitting some nut job with the emotional equivalent of a five year old. She reached for his arm to inspect the wound; he held it away from her, “No.” Rolling her eyes she grasped his wrist and dragged it towards her he gave an indignant cry and tried to tug it back from her grasp. She tightened her grasp and glared at him.
“Stop being such a baby. I’m not going to hurt you intentionally.” He scowled at her as she studied the mess of skin and blood.
“That wasn’t the impression I first got.” He went silent at her glare, he felt pretty sure that if the daggers she had been sending him had been real he would now be a bloody mess on the floor. After several minutes of silence Jack broke it with a squawk of pain as her finger brushed over a tender spot. He dragged his arm free and clutched it to his chest.
“Are all men nowadays such wimps or am I just lucky?” Jack scowled at her and went silent; he decided he wasn’t at all keen on the girl, “I’m going to go and get an iron heated up, do you have any rum on this tub?” Jack began to splutter a response.
“This is not a tub! This is the Black Pearl, soon to be greatest pirate ship the world has ever known.” Oria gritted her teeth on instinct and fought to control herself and not end his life, Jack noticed it, “The Tigress…” She stalked out of the room before he got to finish and returned a few minutes later with a hot iron and cleaner bandages. He watched quietly as she soaked a rag and wiped out the wound gently before pressing a piece of wood wrapped in cloth to his lips. He looked at her as if she was insane.
“Bite it when I press the iron to the wound. Trust me when I say you’ll want it.” Jack reached out and took it in his right hand, before raising it to his mouth, her eyes lighted on the P brand, “I see you already know the feel of a burn. This will be far worse.” Jack placed the wooden piece in between his teeth and gripped his left hand onto the arm of the chair.
Without warning Oria pressed the iron against the open wound. Jack leapt in his chair at the sudden burn; the stench of burning flesh rose up sickeningly. Oria met his gaze soundly before returning it to the iron as she rolled it over onto the other half of the wound. Finally satisfied that the wounds were sealed she placed the iron in a bucket of sea water to cool, Jack spat out the wood. He had been grateful for it, he was sure his teeth would have shattered against each other without it. She poured some more rum over the sealed wound and began to wrap bandages about it tightly.
“Couldn’t you have been a bit more gentle?” Her eyes didn’t falter from their tracking of the bandage.
“No, that would only have prolonged the pain, pointless in my opinion unless you wish to be tortured?” Her cocked eyebrow suggested she wasn’t joking; Jack shook his head and leaned back feeling weary. She handed him the bottle of rum, “Down that, it’ll ease the pain.” He studied the fetid liquid.
“I don’t drink rum.” She burst out laughing until she saw his face and the laugh died as quickly as it had appeared.
“Are you or are you not a pirate?” Jack studied the liquid curiously.
“Sailors drink rum, I am a Captain.” Oria stared at him.
“A pirate Captain?” He contemplated this; she waved a hand at him, “Just drink the damn stuff and shut up.” Jack scowled at her.
“I thought I was in charge?” She turned with a sarcastic sneer.
“And you’re in a state to protest?” Jack paused, she sighed suddenly and nodded, “Look, just drink it or don’t. I’m not lying it will ease the pain and probably knock you out for several hours if you’ve never drunk the stuff before. Some advice though, small sips at first.” Jack regarded the liquid suspiciously.
“Why?” Oria smirked.
“Find out for yourself… if you dare.” She left to tend to the ship and familiarise herself with the new setup.