Witch

Witch, by Hellborne
Pirates of the Caribbean – Slash: Jack/Others, Jack/Will. NC-17.

Copyright. Characters, not mine. See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.

Typing convention: / is used for thoughts.

Summary: What did Jack do to be tortured so? He would love to know. Torture, Rape, Lemon, Slash.

Beta: pendragginink, the greatest beta in all fanfic history! ThankYouThankYouTHANKYOU!!!!!

NOTE: I live for reviews. No reviews, no more writing. Can’t figure out if anyone likes it if they don’t review. So REVIEW! PLEEEEEEZE???

O/T: Has anyone noticed that Steve & Jeff in “Coupling” (hint: Jack Davenport plays “Steve”) have an awful lot of slashy-looking moments?

A/N: A little question for the Christians out there…Isn’t it interesting that when The Last Temptation of Christ (a slashy, albeit boring movie about the final decisions made by Jesus to submit to God’s wishes for him) hit the theaters, several of the theaters were burned to the ground, while The Passion of the Christ (a 2 hour movie depicting how many ways they could torture man before they kill him) was the number 1 movie of the week till Dawn of the Dead came out (funny thing that, too)? Ok, did I confuse anyone other than myself with my rambling?

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Chapter 9 – Dinner

He felt a wet rag being gently dragged across his belly and below, mopping up the evidence of his and Will’s passion, but he kept his eyes closed, waiting for Will to finish and “wake him up properly.” The rag moved to his chest after being rinsed, then down his legs to his feet, cleaning the front of his body quite efficiently. Then he noticed that there was a weight on his arm. He turned his head toward the weight, and opened his eyes. Will was sleeping, fully attached to the arm as if it were a security blanket. Jack smiled. /Then who…?!/ He turned his head to look up at his “assailant” and saw Dr. Abernathy, who, at this point, was washing the arm that Will wasn’t holding. “Doctor, is there a reason that you’re in this cabin and not your own?”

Tim frowned. “Yes, actually there is, Captain. You and your ahem ‘friend’ smell like goats rutting. You’ll be having dinner with several people in two hours’ time. You have new clothes. I believe the answer is obvious. There is a bath drawn for Captain Turner in my cabin, along with a barrel of hot water in which to clean your hair. You DO clean your hair occasionally?”

Jack thought about it for a moment. “Yes, Tim, I do. Whenever the mood takes me, or at least every Christmas. Now, could you please tell me why you’re in me cabin cleanin’ me goods?”

Tim blushed. “Actually, I hadn’t thought about it that way. I just thought that you’d rather not smell like a barnyard animal.”

“As if any of those sons of whores would care what I smell like? Believe me, they smell as bad or worse.” He grinned. “Or maybe you’re more interested in what you cleaned OFF of me, eh?” The doctor saw something evil in Jack’s twinkling eyes as he trussed up Jack’s foot into the corset arrangement again.

Tim muttered something inaudible and rushed from the room. Jack chuckled, then woke Will up. “Love, there’s a bath drawn for you in the next cabin. I think our dear Doctor Abernathy wants t’see ye naked.”

“Huh? Jack, how much laudanum have you HAD?” He looked at the clock. “We’ve only got two hours till the other Captains arrive.”

“None since before we fell asleep, lad. Now, there’s a bath drawn in the good Doctor’s cabin for ye. He also said I could wash my hair in a barrel in there as well. Perhaps we should oblige the poor man directly, eh?” Jack rolled onto his side and sat up slowly, grabbing the crutches next to the bed. Will got up and followed him.

When both naked men entered the doctor’s cabin without knocking, Tim cried, “holy Jesus!” and hid his face.

Jack laughed. “Well, you invited us, mate. Anyway, I decided to take you up on the offer. And ye forgot the back of me and my face.”

“I’d assumed that Captain Turner would take care of that now that he’s awake, and I thought that I would give you some privacy with your baths.” What they could see of Tim’s face was flushed behind his sleeve. He started making his way to the outside door. “I believe I’ll leave you two alone. Will, be sure you don’t get Jack’s stitches wet. I’ll re-wrap him after you’re through.” He left quickly.

Will helped hold him steady while Jack washed his own hair and face bending over the barrel. Jack noticed something odd and scowled, his eyes dark and his anger starting to boil inside him. “Will, where’d me favorite braid go off to? The long one in the back? It’s been cut off somehow.” He tried to keep his voice light, but Will could hear the menace in it.

“Anamaria told me that the doctor used it to stitch the gold into your leg. Said he was looking for the longest hair he could find. She told him you’d kill him. But you won’t, will you?”

As Will steadied him, Jack ran his hand along the rough stubble at the back of his head and thought about it. “It saved my leg, so no, I won’t kill him. But he should have had the decency to ASK me! I started that braid before you were born, whelp! And now it’s in me leg, where I can’t look at it!”

“But it was from the back of your head.”

“I looked at it quite a bit, actually. It hung over me shoulder most of the time, and I enjoyed the way it swung around without even any beads on it.”

Will shrugged. “Maybe that’s why he took that one. It was the longest, and you didn’t seem to care enough about it to put beads on it.”
<>
Jack’s voice almost disappeared. William could tell that he’d said the WRONG thing. “William, my dear whelp, I left the beads off of it because I was so PROUD of its length. If it hadn’t been for a little accident three years ago, it would have been draggin’ the ground! Now I promise not to kill Tim, but I WILL have a little chat with him about using people’s parts without even informing them.” He grinned sweetly, murder in his eye.

Will let go of him, letting him fall forward into the barrel, head first. As he pulled him out of the barrel, he quietly said, “Jack, it’s only hair. It saved your leg. Think about it that way and get over it.” He started to let him go again, grabbing and steadying him quickly. “Or do you wish to go swimming again?”

Jack turned his head to look at him. “Whelp, when I get completely better, ye’d better be ready for a right fine beating.” Will grinned. Jack smiled, turning his head again and wringing his hair out. “But you’re right. I’ll not make our good doctor wish he’d never met me. I’ll speak to him after we clean the blood from the decks after your so-called ‘party’ tonight.”

Will helped Jack over to the bed and sat him down, lifting his bad leg onto the bed propping it up on some pillows the doctor had placed there. “I’m sure it won’t be that bad.” With hot water from the tub, and a clean rag, Will bathed the pirate's back for him, being careful to avoid tearing the stitches out of the still healing wounds, then tossed the rag aside, lying Jack down on the bed. Leaving Jack lying there, he strode to the steaming tub and crawled in, sighing softly as he sank slowly into the heated water and relaxed against the side of the tub; he allowed himself the luxury of a few minutes soothing soak, before washing his hair and body as quickly as he could. When he finished, he walked to the door between the cabins and checked for the doctor. Not finding him there, he went to the double door to the quarterdeck, threw them open, stark naked, and called for the doctor to go to his cabin; Jack’s back needing fixing up.

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As the various pirate captains and their first mates arrived, the servers showed them to their places at the long tables, seating them according to their rank; the Captains toward the aft end of the ship, closer to the Captains’ quarters. Once seated, the motley group quickly became restless, talking guardedly, their eyes wary, darting from one face to another across the tables. Abruptly, the heavy doors to the main cabin opened and Captain Jack Sparrow walked slowly out on his own two feet, slightly favoring his left leg, Captain Will Turner at his side. The two presented a veritable buffet of sartorial splendor, sporting identical black clothes, shockingly pristine in appearance; Jack’s beloved dreadlocks having been neatly re-plaited for the occasion. It was obvious to all, however, that the feisty little captain was not his usual self at all.

As Will helped Jack sit at one of the seats at the head of the table, one of the pirate captains exclaimed, “tis no wonder the Turner boy is in charge of the Black Pearl. He’s got Jack drugged up to the point that he’s probably seein’ things!” There was general laughter at that, but Will kept standing.

Jack looked at the other man, almost cross-eyed. “Cap’n Griff’n, just acuz YOUR leg couldn’ b’saved, don’ go cas’in’ asburj…ashpursh…don’ go puttin’ my own fine leg down.” His head drooped slightly toward the table.

Will put his hands on Jack’s shoulders, keeping him from falling completely forward. “The only reason that Captain Sparrow is ‘under the weather’ tonight is because his doctor felt he should use his crutches, while Jack believed otherwise, so the good doctor put some laudanum in his rum. Other than that, Captain Sparrow has fairly healed from the tortures that you’ve no doubt heard about, since I believe that’s why most of you are here.”

“Aye! Tell us about the tortures, Captain Turner!” A large, black man, who Will recognized as Captain Hoktabi took a swig from the mug before him. There was general agreement around the table.

Will proceeded to tell them of the tortures afforded Jack by the Cardinal as the servers fairly danced between the pirates, bringing exotic foods to the table and carting away empty plates. Ragetti had really gone all out with the food. While many faces remained impassive masks, Will could tell he’d struck a nerve when he mentioned that pirates could not even be safe in Tortuga with the mad Cardinal having the ability to bring in more ships from the Spanish Navy to attack if he wished. “In order that this madman is never again able to capture a Captain of the Coast, neither a member of The Brethren, nor any other man for his sick and twisted pleasure, I propose that every pirate ship in the area attack the Cathedral of St. Augustine on Guadalupe and raze it to the ground. Are there any questions so far?”

A lady pirate captain raised her voice to the crowd. “And how are we to accomplish it? The Cathedral of St. Augustine is situated on the top of an hundred foot cliff, looking for all to see as a castle of some foreign lord.”

Will smiled. “Very true, Captain Rodruguez, and its dungeons run through that cliff nearly to the bottom according to a very reliable source. We’re going to have to destroy the entire cliff side, leaving nothing but low beach for close to one hundred fifty feet inland. I’ve developed weapons that can do it if we can distract their attentions away from the base of the cliff for the time it takes to place them properly. But I want the Cardinal himself taken alive if possible.”

Jack raised his head partially and looked at Will with one eye. “Why?”

Will looked at him and smiled. The smile spoke of murder and destruction. “Because he must feel welcomed by the Devil.”

A voice from the poop deck interrupted them. “Devil is right. Captain Jack Sparrow has cheated death enough times to BE the devil himself. Count me in!” The man slid down the rail to the quarterdeck.

Will looked closely at the man. He was just about Will’s age, but was slight, dark, wiry, and clean-shaven, with black eyes and black hair in two braids that went down below his shoulders, bedecked with a single silver trinket identical to Jack’s. He wore a blue grey great coat over a dirty white shirt, blue waistcoat and breeches, and the same outlandish boots that Jack preferred. On his head sat a dark leather tricorn hat. All in all, he looked a lot like Jack. “What’s your name?”

“Captain Spatz, of the pirate ship Schwarze Perle, at your service.” The pirates around the table, along with the servers, all had their pistols trained on the man instantly.

Jack sat up, both eyes open, but unfocused. “Jacob? Izzat you?” Will looked from one to another.

“It’s Spatz now, Sparrow.” He grinned. It looked just like Jack’s grin without the gold. Will looked for Jack’s reaction, as confused as everyone else at the table.

“So now YOU’RE Cap’n Sparrow o’ the Black Pearl, are ye? Mein kleiner Depp, verschwinde von meinen Schiff und sei das nächste Mal bei der Namenswahl ein bisschen kreativer.*” Jack tried to stand up.

Will easily pushed him back down into the seat. “Jack, who is he? He looks enough like you to be…”

“My son. My pain in ‘e arse, bastar’ son Jacob, who wan-ned nothin’ more’n t’hang wiv his ol’ pirate father. Now please, Will. Throw ‘im off affore I keel…kill…keyhall the sonova whore!”

“Now father, don’t go casting aspersions on my mother. Lynx Kitten Dreaming always spoke highly of you, though you can’t claim you ever deserved it. And as for ‘throwing me off,’ I represent thirty-two ships whose captains refused to parley on board enemy territory. So I don’t suggest you do that.” He grinned the patented Sparrow Grin, and sat down at the table. All of the guns seemed to disappear as if by magic as the various pirates understood that there was no threat.

Jack mumbled something and relaxed, his head tipping slightly, his eyes closed. Will leaned in close and asked him to repeat it. “’Said, s’op spinninin’ th’ship. Iz makin’ m’dizzy.” Will patted Jack on the shoulder and let him rest.

The rest of the evening went quite well, and as the group disbursed from the Pearl, Will found out that the collective captains represented a total of three hundred ninety-three ships of varying sizes, including two men-of-war, all now at his command. He wasn't sure if he could handle it, but he thought he knew of someone who COULD.

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TBC

* Translation from German: “My little moron, get off my ship, and next time, be a little more creative in your choice of names.” (Translation thanks to spotted.paw…the only word I knew was “depp” and that’s because of seeing an interview with him…)

A/N: Never forget to feed the plot bunnies! Or I might forget to return, savvy? So hit the REVIEW button now.

So, aren’t there any other ladies with a foot-fetish out there that know what they’d like to do with a certain pirate’s toes? Hey, review!