Taming A Dragon

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 5 - Fever

Jack started suddenly out of his sleep and gazed about him worriedly not knowing what had disturbed his sleep. He was in his bed on the Pearl yet had no recollection of getting in it; he glanced about the room as if to jog his memory. Oria was sat behind his desk, her feet up and her hat over her eyes; she shifted slightly in her sleep.

He realised what had made him awaken, the sheets were attempting to become one with his body and he was doused in sweat, his throat and head burning painfully as if the sun had sought its’ new home there. Shifting around he intended to get out of bed and find some water only to find his head spinning at some god forsaken tangent, his balance abandoned him but instead of connecting with the floor firm hands grasped his arms and propped him up.

Several Oria’s danced in front of him, and he was surprised by the concern on those usually furious features, she lowered him gently to the bed, “You have a fever, lie back down.” Her voice was soothing as he struggled against her and he slowly stilled as a cool hand pressed against his head. Oria stared down at the sweating man, despite her best attempts she couldn’t hide the concern and worry that affected her, if not for the mans’ sake then her own. She needed him well and alive, his hand grasped her wrist as she turned away jolting her back.

“Don’t leave me.” Oria gazed down at him, unsure whether he was delirious or genuinely asking.

“I need to get some things. I will return.” Slowly he nodded and released his grip on her wrist. Jack watched quietly, the silence was eerie and echoed in his ears loudly. It felt like years before she returned with a bucket of sea water and several strips of rags. Oria sank onto the bed next to him and tugged the sheets away from his body, her fingers worked as quick and fleeting as butterflies over his shirt buttons and she tugged it free from him.

Dipping several strips into the sea water she pressed the largest over his forehead and ran the others over his body letting the water droplets rest on his skin and cool him through evaporation. His eyes followed her hands as they trailed water over his steaming body, she leaned over him and picked up his right arm, even through the bandages it was clear that it was badly infected. Oria quickly removed them to let the wound breathe before turning her attention back to draping more sodden cloths over him, “Do you feel any better? Any cooler?” Jack nodded slowly, she stood up, he grasped her wrist again.

“Don’t leave.” She tugged herself free, fighting back the instinct to brush any feeling of his touch from her skin in disgust.

“I’m only going to open the windows; fresh air will help cool you down.” Jack watched her silently before feeling sleep beckon him back into her warm embrace.

:/

Slowly his eyes opened to a fresh morning, a stiff sea breeze was gusting through the room, he could feel it on his skin. He blinked away the sleep and tried to stretch only to find he was tied to the bed. He glanced across to the deck; Oria was sat on it cross-legged reading a book he recognised from his collection, “Why am I trussed up like Sunday lunch?” She started surprised and dropped the book before cautiously approaching him.

“You’re trussed up like Sunday lunch, as you call it because you became delirious and started hallucinating.” She knelt next to him and drew a dagger as she slashed her way through the various ropes restraining him.

“How long was I out for?” The first one loosened and he sat up partially on his elbows.

“Three days and several new additions to your repertoire of injuries.” She pointed to his left hand, he glanced down, his knuckles were bandaged tightly, “That was from punching the cabin wall, apparently it was a man called Beckett and he was trying to get you to wear a dress. Personally I think I would have punched him out also. The bruise on my ribs is from you thinking I was a plank trying to hit you over the head. The gash on the back of your head was from me knocking you out when you tried to leap over board to save the sails from getting stained with rum, and the bruise on your leg from running into a cannon while running away from the… now I must get this right… the cups of vengeance which were looking at you funny.” Jack grinned.

“I see you’ve been having plenty of adventures without me then.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Indeed.” Jack adopted a bashful look.

“Sorry about the bruises.” She snorted.

“No need to apologise. I call it fair pay back, after all if I had been more careful with my healing then you would never have been delusional in the first place. Besides I got to smack you over the back of the head in return and I’ll heal a lot faster than you.” Jack considered this and shrugged.

“Touché then.” She frowned at him as she tugged the last knot free.

“There was one point where I didn’t think you were going to make it.” Jack blanched at the sudden softer tone, her eyes met his at the silence, “What?” He shook his head and fought back a self-satisfied grin.

“I didn’t think you would care if I made it or not, that’s all.” She chuckled sarcastically.

“You are forgetting where I come from; personally I have no intention of returning any time soon. If that means tolerating your continued existence then it’s a price I’m willing to pay.” Jack grinned.

“Knew you’d warm up to me, everyone does eventually.” Oria raised an eyebrow.

“Hardly, I still think you are a vile, pathetic excuse for a living organism and if I ever get bored of you or wish to return to the Flying Dutchman… well let’s just say I have my means.” Jacks’ grin faded slightly, “Now get out of that bed and get moving, you’ve only got thirteen years so I suggest you make the most of it.” The grin was quickly replaced as he swung his legs out from under the covers.

“Ah but you see I have a cunning plan!” He planted his feet on the planks and shakily attempted to rise only to find his balance had become accustomed to being offline. He was rescued from a second face to face meeting with the floor once again by Oria’s tight grip on his arms propping him up. Jack grinned gratefully, “Appears we may have to delay things for a while longer till me sea legs come back.” Oria rolled her eyes and she lowered him back to the bed, Jack was about to lie back down when his vision was obscured by a piece of material thrown at his face. He tore it from his face with a frown; he glanced down at his shirt.

“What was that for?” His trousers encompassed his head a few seconds later and he spluttered them off also.

“You can get dressed and get up, I’ll carry you up top if needs be. I’ve spent too many hours down here watching you snore. Get dressed, if you can’t manage your britches either do without or I’ll help, either way you’re not spending another second in that bed.” Jack scowled and began to tug his shirt over his head feeling like a spanked child.

“You could just leave me here alone you know.” Oria folded her arms.

“And what? Let you have more adventures with the cups of vengeance?” Jack scowled deeper at her in a definite, ‘I’m your captain and there will be no more mention of cups of vengeance’ kind of way. Oria ignored it, “You only stopped hallucinating last night, there’s every chance of you relapsing and killing yourself or burning down the ship. Besides the open air will do you good so stop complaining and get dressed.” Jack slipped his britches on with much wriggling and cursing determined not to ask for help from the controlling creature he had unfortunately acquired, she in turn leant back against the desk and watched him. After a few minutes of fighting with the wayward material the battle was won and Jack attempted to stand up again, an arm threaded under his right and grasped his waist on the left; Oria was stood next to him, her shoulder under his propping him up. He scowled at her and tried to wriggle free.

“I don’t need any help.” She shrugged and withdrew her arm; he promptly fell on his face after raising one leg to take a step. Oria folded her arms and watched him as he sat up rubbing his nose tenderly, “You could have caught me.”

“You said you didn’t need any help. Obviously being the Captain you know best.” She smirked, he laughed sarcastically with an absurd nodding of his head to emphasise the point. Jack folded his arms against his chest and glared at her, she hid a smirk realising he had launched a battle of wills and leaned back against his desk again mimicking his childish pose and gritted jaw. Five minutes later he sighed.

“Fine, I need help. Please will you help me up deck?” Oria slowly unfolded her arms, she had what she wanted. Slowly she leaned down and wrapped his arm over her shoulders before dragging him upright. Slowly and with much swaying as her slighter frame tried to compensate for his heavier one they made their way towards the cabin door and eventually she lowered him to sit on a barrel resting beneath the main mast. He watched quietly as she moved off swiftly and began to flit all over the ship getting it ready to sail, “What are you doing?”

“Getting this heap of… this ship ready to sail.” Jack grinned lopsidedly at her adjustment.

“Where are we sailing to?” Oria came and stood in front of him.

“Now that is up to you, where do you want to pick up a crew from?” Jack stared dumbly.

“A crew? I hadn’t even thought about that yet.” Oria rolled her eyes and sank onto a barrel next to him.

“Then I suggest you start because one we have minimal supplies and two it’s going to take at least twice as long with only one person running this ship.” Jack spluttered at her indignantly.

“I can sail this ship!” She poked him in the ribs sharply and he squirmed away far enough to fall off the barrel, he groaned in pain.

“See if you can’t even fall off a barrel how do you intend to turn a wheel for an approximate minimum of sixteen hours in all weathers for the next few days?” Jack glared up at her and mumbled several unrepeatable words under his breath, Oria raised her eyebrows in surprise and grinned with mirth, “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that shall I?” Jack mimicked laughing sarcastically, “Now can you get back up on to the barrel or do you want some help?” He immediately began to struggle vainly to get back onto the barrel; Oria grinned like the cat that had got the cream and watched him with smug satisfaction as he struggled. He gave a sigh and sat back to catch his breath, the fever had weakened him considerably.

“I know what you’re trying to do. You’re trying to make me think I am entirely dependent on you till I get my strength back. It won’t work, I’m Captain of this ship and you’ll do what I say, De Monara or not!” She chuckled and watched as he valiantly tried for the next five minutes before sighing heavily.

“Oria?” Her grin widened.

“Yes?” Jack mimicked the grin and sighed again.

“You’re the spawn of the devil, has anyone ever told you that?” Oria knelt on the floor in front of him.

“Every damn day.” She kissed his cheek with a smirk and strode up to the anchors and began to crank them up, “So have you decided which port to sail to yet?” Jack contemplated his options from the floor.

“Tortuga. We’re going to need a flag designed as well.” Oria wiped the grease from the anchors wheel onto her trousers and stared at him.

“I’m sorry; did you just say we need a flag designing?” She folded her arms beginning to wonder just what kind of man she had landed herself with, he met her gaze quietly, “Are you or are you not a pirate Jack Sparrow?” He grinned slightly sheepishly.

“There’s quite an interesting story behind that love.” She rolled her eyes and stormed up the helm.

:/

Four days of being dragged up to the deck at the crack of dawn and back down when the sun set left Jack feeling far from pleased with his new patient status. He could see the condescence in her eyes whenever she glanced at him which he noted was becoming less and less frequent. She had listened to his story with boredom written all over her face and they had been silent ever since, Jack not appreciating that she had not oohed or aahed at any point in his frantic retelling. Finally he decided to break the silence getting the feeling she would be quite happy to maintain it for the rest of her life, “So… how did you come to be in dear old Jones’ service, so to speak?”

Oria glanced down at him surprised that he was capable of speech either that or she had forgotten he was even alive, “What?” Jack stood up and approached the helm slowly still aware of the fact she could quite easily remove his life if she had even the slightest change of heart.

“I said how did Davy Jones’ get hold of you?” Oria glanced away her mind whirring quickly through her past and settling on a new tale. She met his gaze slowly.

“Our ship, the Tigress, was attacked by a fleet of Navy ships. We won but took heavy damage and lost our main mast. We just floated on the ocean for about a week, supplies ran out and the crew began to die of starvation and madness, course that’s Jones’s beckoning call and he didn’t need a second invitation to take the strongest pirate ship the world had ever known. He came on board and my father begged him to repair the ship and heal his crew, Jones asked him the price, my father said he would give over his soul and so would every man on the ship. I was only eight at the time so I don’t remember much but I remember him saying, my father that is, that if he could have just ten years to see me grow up he would join Davy Jones’s crew willingly. Jones was taken with the offer and accepted it swearing to return and claim it. He returned ten years to the day to claim my father and the crew. My father had not honoured his deal and had released the original crew that had lived over the years at various ports; Jones’ was furious at the betrayal and tied my father to the mast. He sent his crew into the ship to drag out anyone aboard. The crew, my mother and I were dragged up top. He forced us to watch while my father was whipped, the flesh cleaved from his bones till there was nothing left of his back but a bloody mess. He then ran through my mother in front of everyone and threw her to the sharks that were circling. My father begged him to spare me, that I was his pride and joy. I remember saying that the sharks wouldn’t know what had hit them; it amused Davy Jones that I wasn’t afraid. He took me onto his ship instead of my father saying that it settled his debt. I was payment for the loss of souls; the Tigress was sunk with my father still on board. It resides to this day in Davy Jones’ locker, rotting away.” Oria glanced at Jack; he had swallowed the story like a starved dog.

“That’s terrible, I’m sorry for your loss, to lose everything so suddenly and have no say.” She glanced at him.

“Similar to your own tale is it not? Betrayal, no choices, your path laid out before your feet, whether they choose to walk it or not they know that is the only path.” Jack watched her curiously; there had been speculation for years on how the great De Monara family had been destroyed in one fell swoop. Some had claimed the Navy finally got the better of them, others that they had been taken into Hells’ deepest circles as friends of the devil and given thrones next to his own. Those were the most popular but there was always a new story in every town. Oria was watching him as she held the wheel steady.

“What happened to your sister and your brother?” Oria gritted her teeth, she had not been able to fit them into her make believe story. Her mind fought for another tale and quickly latched on to the most plausible.

“My sister died in child-birth, she produced no heirs and my ‘brother’ was a rumour to stop anyone doubting my Captaincy when I took over from my father.” Jack nodded slowly, already getting inklings that the tales were much more than that and the truth was still hidden. He shrugged; she would tell him when she was good and ready, she grinned suddenly and pointed into the distance.

“Tortuga.” Jack gazed out and sure enough on the horizon was the glittering promise of the pirate island, just as night was setting, so close and yet so far.

Oria began to make the ship ready for night, lowering the anchors and checking everything over, he watched as she flitted about the ship quick as a deer. Slowly she approached him, “Best for you to get some sleep, after all you’ll need to be fit to get a crew.” Jack scowled at her, she always made him feel like a little boy and she was his Governess, tomorrow things would change, tomorrow he would take back control of his ship.