"Contradictions 6 - Deny", Part 3
Nov. 29th, 2004 09:20 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
veronica_richThis is a continuation of a fic. See Part 1 for disclaimers, description, etc.
“Dull” and “heavy” best described how Will felt when rough hands tugged at his shoulder a bit later. It seemed only moments had passed before he nodded off, and he brought his upper arm up to strike at whomever was trying to rouse him. “Th’ hell?” he mumbled, still exhausted.
“Will,” the familiar voice mumbled. “Get up, goddammit.”
Well, that didn’t sound very commanding. “Lea’ me ‘lone,” he ordered, turning his face into the pillow infused with the scent of Jack’s hair.
“Can’ sleep anymore,” the voice continued, and Will was finally able to identify Sparrow. “Get fucking up, Will …”
After a couple more protests, Will shifted to his back, boneless, and exhaled heavily. “What do you want?” he ground out, eyes still closed. “Why’re y’ cursin’ at me?” His speech was slurred, as though his lips were too lazy to allow the words out.
He felt something heavy press to the inside of his elbow and stay there, and managed to blink awake long enough to look over. Jack, apparently on his knees at the side of the bed, had his head bowed against Will’s arm, looking for all the world like he was praying; it was enough to force the smith to hold his eyelids open and shake his head to clear it of slumberous fog. “Jack?” he muttered, then licked his lips. “Jack?” A bit louder this time.
When the pirate lifted his face, Will noticed it was pale and somewhat grayish. Before he could ask, Jack shook his head, eyes closed, in obvious pain. “Been sick,” he explained through sighs. “Thrown up three times. Somethin’ – think it was somethin’ in th’ oats.”
“Was a lot of rum in it,” Will agreed, rubbing at his eyes. He knew misery loved company, but that still didn’t explain why Jack was trying to wake him up – unless he needed the bunk. “Thought you lived on rum?”
Even ill, Jack managed a snort. “I ‘aven’t upchucked this much from rum since I’s younger than you,” he scoffed. “Weren’ it – somethin’ else. You ‘wake?”
“Well, yes … I mean, Jack, I’ve only had a few minutes of sleep-“
“Few minutes?” Again with the snort. “Lad, ye’ve been sacked out for th’ better part o’ th’ day.” He managed to get his hands up on the bed and shake Will’s arm and shoulder again. “C’mon, get up.”
Will refused to believe he’d slept for many hours. “Jack, surely there’s somewhere else you can catch a few winks for-“
“It ain’ that. Will, we’re ‘bout t’ be attacked an’ boarded.” Try as he could, the man apparently couldn’t get his voice to sound terribly excited while this ill. “An’ it’s th’ Versailles.”
It took a few more seconds for Will’s memory to catch up, and then he sat straight up in bed, ignoring the throbbing pain in his temples. “Francois?” he asked. Jack nodded an affirmation. “How’d-“
“I think he’s got a plant on board.” Jack shook his head as Will swung his legs over the side of the bunk. Jack got a foot under him, and belatedly, Will helped him push himself up enough to turn and sit next to him. “Somethin’ in th’ food this mornin’ – an’ your water, ‘parently. Ever’one had oats this mornin’ an’ nobody else up top’s sick like us. Laudanum, mebbe.”
“But how-“ Struggling against an artificial blanket of exhaustion, Will blinked as he recalled how he’d taken the tray this morning, half-asleep and aching from his night in the crow’s nest. “Oh, God,” he suddenly mumbled in a frustrated moan, covering his face with a hand. “Marler – he gave me the tray this morning. Said something about how you’d like the rum; he even called you ‘Captain.’”
Will felt twelve degrees of stupid for not having caught it earlier, since they’d both assumed false last names and nobody on board was supposed to know Jack was a ship’s captain. They’d both been careful to cultivate the merchant seaman image and keep a check on each other to stick only to their first names when referring to or talking to the other man.
“Nothin’ to be done for it now,” Jack philosophized, and Will heard the strained growling of the man’s intestines. He wondered how much pain Jack was in from his double dose of food poisoning. “All we can do ‘s resist an’ fight. Get th’ swords.”
They’d hidden their weapons among the clothes in their trunk before coming aboard, not wanting to appear suspicious. Will pawed through as Jack watched from his perch on the edge of the bed, pausing every so often to hide a dagger inside some fold of clothing or a boot, which he’d taken precious moments to struggle into first. It’d been weeks since he’d done this on a regular basis, but his mind switched into automatic and Will found he was going through preparations while he mused on other things.
“Marler boarded with us in England.” He stopped for a moment, eyes wide. “Same time we did, I mean. I’m sure of it!”
“Least I think we’ve solved th’ mystery o’ who tried t’ have us killed back there, then.” Jack shook his head, eyes closed as he leaned forward a bit to quell his discomfort. “Don’ believe in coincidences.”
“So … what? He’s trying to recapture us?” Will asked, withdrawing Jack’s sword and belt from the bottom of the trunk. “Why?”
“Mebbe he don’ like bein’ showed up, lookin’ th’ fool.”
“Then why not poison us enough to kill us outright?” Will pressed. “Instead of trying to weaken us?”
“I don’ know, Will.” Jack’s voice was tired and exasperated. “All I know is we-“ At that, he shook his head and stood, leaping up on the bunk and stumbling to the edge to the porthole, shaking his head quickly.
Will understood when Jack managed to get his chin over the edge and he heard the vomiting, saw the spasms wracking the slender body. He put the sword aside and climbed up on the bunk to come up behind Jack, reaching for his hair and pulling it to the nape of his neck with both hands so it wouldn’t fall forward in his face. When Jack sagged against the wall, his forehead pressed to the top of the porthole, Will held the hair with one hand, lowering the other to reflexively rub small circles against the middle of Jack’s back; he remembered doing this once for Elizabeth when they were much younger, after a day spent eating too much and playing too hard running back and forth through high tide at the beach. “Better?” he asked, feeling oddly solicitous toward the other man.
After another moment, Jack pulled his head inside, shaking it, and reached up, using his sleeve cuff to scrub at his mouth and chin. He nearly stumbled backwards with the tilt of the ship, but Will caught him, the rubbing hand still on his back, the other going around Jack’s side so that the shorter man was briefly pressed against him in a loose embrace. Only then was he able to make out the muffled voices of men shouting up on deck, of cannon being rolled into place at the gunwales, and frowned over the man in his arms. “You’re in no condition to fight.”
“Aye.” For once, Jack wasn’t being contrary. He pulled away and lifted his eyes, narrow and calculating, to Will’s. “’S why I’m countin’ on that sword arm o’ yours. Even dead drunk, I can cock a pistol straight; that’ll be my job.”
“If we surrender right away, maybe he’ll spare the crew.” Will didn’t like giving up so readily, but neither did he want to bring death and destruction to innocents.
“’S what we’re gon’ try,” Jack nodded, climbing down from the bunk and gesturing at the trunk for Will. “I don’ think it’ll work all that well, but if we hold out, Francois’ll find us anyway. Men like him don’ enjoy bein’ thwarted, Will.”
Nor do men like you, Will thought, but kept it to himself as he climbed down and finished outfitting the two of them. He had a feeling Jack’s bloodlust knew narrower bounds than did Francois’s, and for more specific reasons than wounded pride.
*****
Though he clearly didn’t like it, Captain Montgomery Allen agreed that surrendering was his crew’s best chance for survival. Athena’s Pride was no match for the mass of the Versailles, and if Jack would pull his own Pearl out of a battle against it, Will would not stand off and watch a smaller vessel destroyed.
For once, Jack agreed, and used his persuasive skill to keep Allen from mounting a counteroffensive. With a look, he informed Will they’d have to surrender to protect Athena. Will didn’t enjoy losing any more than did Jack, but keeping in mind “what a man can do and what a man can’t do” forced their hand, and the simple fact was that Will could not comply in the needless slaughter of hardworking merchant seamen.
Jack’s plan was to signal their joint surrender and, hopefully, keep Francois’s men off Athena. The pirate wasn’t the only one skeptical of that line of reasoning, but any other way was certain death for everyone on the smaller ship, since it couldn’t outrun Francois.
Everyone stood at the rail and watched for a good half-hour as Versailles bore down, closer and closer, pulling alongside to weigh anchor. The men lining the larger ship’s rail parted, and the heavy dread in Will’s gut quashed the rest of his drug-induced fatigue right before Elias Francois stepped into the gap. For a moment his eyes roamed Athena as an attacker might scope out a solitary prostitute in a back alley with a full purse, but soon enough he deigned to settle on his primary quarry.
“Captain!” he boomed, jovial. “What in Lucifer’s great blazes are ye doin’ th’ hell way o’er there?”
Allen looked puzzled by the familiar tone, but Jack answered. “Rather know what you’re doin’ here,” he calmly called back. “Don’ take rejection well, do you?”
“I see you’re still in possession of your delightful blacksmith.”
Will simmered, but Jack laughed raucously. “Need somethin’ t’ keep me jolly,” he scoffed, tossing Turner a sideways lascivious glance. “Bit o’ whelp fluff works as well as any other kind, I s’pose.” Will didn’t care for the insinuation, but wisely restrained his sharp tongue. “An’ I s’pose you’re still rogerin’ tha’ ugly son of a beast ye had ‘pon our last meeting?”
“You think I’ve so little ‘magination as t’ limit myself t’ one?” Francois grinned unpleasantly, his eyes clear upon Will with this turn of conversation. The smith battled simultaneous urges to slice the man to ribbons and to slide down beneath the rail and take a long, scorching bath to de-grease himself.
“What is it you’re wantin’, Elias?”
“That’s Captain Francois to you, Captain Sparrow,” the man snapped.
A murmur went up among Athena’s crew as they looked to one another, then Allen, then to Jack. Allen himself was regarding Jack with disbelief, and the raven-haired man shrugged with a pretense of sheepishness Will knew for a fact he did not possess. “Pirate,” he offered in questionable tone.
“Is this why my men are in danger?” Allen demanded, sotto voce. “For a pirate war?”
“No,” Jack explained. “Matter o’ personal discussion ‘tween two men‘s all, Captain. I’m sure th’ good Captain’d be more ‘n glad t’ let ye go your merry way … s’ long as ‘e gets what he wants.” Jack arched a thick, dark eyebrow toward Francois, and the Spanish privateer shrugged one massive shoulder.
“Come ‘board an’ find out, Jack.”
“Not if you’re going to hurt this crew!” Will interrupted, jaw set.
Francois blinked once in his direction. “You’re dictatin’ terms t’ me?” Then he chuckled at Jack. “Looks like you’ve your work cut out for ye of a night,” he teased. The rest of his crew picked up the dirty laughter, and Will felt a flush of anger and indignation creep up from his collar.
“Will.” Jack pressed fingers to his arm to quell his anger, and for the first time, Will remembered Jack was sick. His bravado had given way to a waxy perspiration, and the smith wondered if he could stay upright. He raised his voice again. “We two’ll come aboard s’ long as ye swear not t’ hurt th’ crew or their ship,” he called. “Otherwise, nothin’ doing.”
“Feelin’ in a position to negotiate, are ye?” Francois shook his head. “You mus’ be daft, Jack; I’d say you’re hardly of a constitution to put up much resistance at th’ moment.” He smirked, and Will’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “I’d say it’s th’ fever makin’ ye talk such, ‘cept I ‘spect ye’ll be yammerin’ even from th’ grave someday, knowin’ you.”
“I’ve me smooth words,” Jack philosophized. “You ‘ave your tiny tadger. We’re all unique in our own special way.” Will was surprised to hear a snigger go up among Athena’s crew even as Francois’s face darkened. “We gon’ stand ‘ere all day doin’ what I do best, or you gon’ ‘gree to th’ terms?”
There was a noticeable pause while Francois visibly struggled to put his game face back on. “Fair’s fair,” he finally conceded. “You come ‘board, an’ I won’t hurt th’ crew or their ship.”
“The Athena, that is.” Jack demanded specification, obviously recalling Hector Barbossa’s penchant for splitting hairs.
“Aye.”
Jack looked to Will, silently assessing his complicity; he was giving the younger man the chance to back out. The smith narrowed his eyes and flared his nostrils, indignant, and Jack’s dark eyes flashed with the first humor Will had spotted in them since before the poisoning. “Aye, then,” he murmured in a low, rumbling tone which sent an inexplicable shiver through Will’s shoulders.
Turning back to Francois, Jack nodded. “We have an accord!”
Athena’s crew backed away enough, with care to show they weren’t fleeing, to allow Will and Jack to climb down into a rowboat and paddle their way to the Versailles. Will held the boat until Jack had climbed halfway up the ship, then took hold of the same rope and began his own ascent. Fear of retribution ate at his gut – they’d stolen out from under Francois’s nose not so long ago, and robbed the privateer – pirate – of what he’d obviously regarded as a valuable enough prize to chase through western Europe and across half an ocean. There would be some unpleasant payback, on that Will counted.
He hauled himself over the rail with a hand from Jack, who Will could tell was struggling not to drop to his knees and curl over on himself in misery. “We’ll get out of this, Jack,” he tried to reassure the man, wondering only afterward when he’d become the voice of optimism for the two of them.
“Aye.” His captain didn’t sound too sure, but turned to face Francois. “I’m curious ‘bout somethin’, Elias,” he began. “Why us?”
Francois held up a finger, dismissing the question and both men for the time being. “Ready?” he called back over his shoulder.
Loud “ayes!” went up from his crew, and Will felt his heart move into his throat. “Jack!” he hissed. “He’s-“
“I’m aware!” the pirate captain gritted back.
“Cannons ready!”
“NO!” Will lunged at Francois and was stopped by a strong arm around his midsection. “Goddamn, Jack, let me go!”
“Shut up, Will,” Jack commanded, stern. Raising his voice, he challenged Francois: “We had an accord!”
“I said I wouldn’ hurt th’ crew or th’ ship,” the Spanish captain rebutted, tone harsh. “Never said I wouldn’ kill ‘em or sink her.”
“Just like fucking Barbossa!” Jack growled.
For a moment, Francois leveled a hateful glare their way, and Will’s insides shriveled before blossoming into fresh anger. Fire in his eyes, Francois yelled, “FIRE!”
Will’s jaws ground as he lunged again, but Jack still held him back. Cannonfire impacted the Athena, strafing her port side with long, evil rips. Another volley let loose, and Will could hear the screams of men even as their smaller ship retaliated with a counter pitiful in comparison. The deck shook beneath Will, and he struggled away from Jack. This time, when he went for Francois, it was two burly pirates who clamped his arms behind him, dragging him back.
Though he shook and bucked and kicked, neither let go. In fact, the more he struggled, the more amused the two seemed to be. He was about to yell something more when a dreadful boom snapped his head around; the Athena’s powder magazine had been hit, and the stern half of the ship was simply … gone.
Gone was the ship that had kept him and Jack safe for three weeks, carrying them toward home. Gone were the joists and other fittings Will had begun replacing. Gone were the men he’d worked alongside for nearly a month, drinking with, joking with, learning their names and about their families. Gone soon – if not already – was Captain Allen, rigid but fair, with his reserved sense of humor and the love of his ship. Will closed his eyes, feeling two very unmanly tears brim from the inner corners as he bowed his head, not fighting his captors. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head, feeling the rage that had temporarily fled slowly pooling back at his center, balling in his belly as he raised his voice a little. “No.”
Snapping his eyes open, he jerked his head up, snarling at Francois. He twisted against the two sailors. “They surrendered! THEY FUCKING SURRENDERED!”
He heard Jack barking his name, and then he heard nothing as a sharp pain bludgeoned behind his ear, crunching his vision and thoughts to black and blank.
On to Part 4 ...
“Dull” and “heavy” best described how Will felt when rough hands tugged at his shoulder a bit later. It seemed only moments had passed before he nodded off, and he brought his upper arm up to strike at whomever was trying to rouse him. “Th’ hell?” he mumbled, still exhausted.
“Will,” the familiar voice mumbled. “Get up, goddammit.”
Well, that didn’t sound very commanding. “Lea’ me ‘lone,” he ordered, turning his face into the pillow infused with the scent of Jack’s hair.
“Can’ sleep anymore,” the voice continued, and Will was finally able to identify Sparrow. “Get fucking up, Will …”
After a couple more protests, Will shifted to his back, boneless, and exhaled heavily. “What do you want?” he ground out, eyes still closed. “Why’re y’ cursin’ at me?” His speech was slurred, as though his lips were too lazy to allow the words out.
He felt something heavy press to the inside of his elbow and stay there, and managed to blink awake long enough to look over. Jack, apparently on his knees at the side of the bed, had his head bowed against Will’s arm, looking for all the world like he was praying; it was enough to force the smith to hold his eyelids open and shake his head to clear it of slumberous fog. “Jack?” he muttered, then licked his lips. “Jack?” A bit louder this time.
When the pirate lifted his face, Will noticed it was pale and somewhat grayish. Before he could ask, Jack shook his head, eyes closed, in obvious pain. “Been sick,” he explained through sighs. “Thrown up three times. Somethin’ – think it was somethin’ in th’ oats.”
“Was a lot of rum in it,” Will agreed, rubbing at his eyes. He knew misery loved company, but that still didn’t explain why Jack was trying to wake him up – unless he needed the bunk. “Thought you lived on rum?”
Even ill, Jack managed a snort. “I ‘aven’t upchucked this much from rum since I’s younger than you,” he scoffed. “Weren’ it – somethin’ else. You ‘wake?”
“Well, yes … I mean, Jack, I’ve only had a few minutes of sleep-“
“Few minutes?” Again with the snort. “Lad, ye’ve been sacked out for th’ better part o’ th’ day.” He managed to get his hands up on the bed and shake Will’s arm and shoulder again. “C’mon, get up.”
Will refused to believe he’d slept for many hours. “Jack, surely there’s somewhere else you can catch a few winks for-“
“It ain’ that. Will, we’re ‘bout t’ be attacked an’ boarded.” Try as he could, the man apparently couldn’t get his voice to sound terribly excited while this ill. “An’ it’s th’ Versailles.”
It took a few more seconds for Will’s memory to catch up, and then he sat straight up in bed, ignoring the throbbing pain in his temples. “Francois?” he asked. Jack nodded an affirmation. “How’d-“
“I think he’s got a plant on board.” Jack shook his head as Will swung his legs over the side of the bunk. Jack got a foot under him, and belatedly, Will helped him push himself up enough to turn and sit next to him. “Somethin’ in th’ food this mornin’ – an’ your water, ‘parently. Ever’one had oats this mornin’ an’ nobody else up top’s sick like us. Laudanum, mebbe.”
“But how-“ Struggling against an artificial blanket of exhaustion, Will blinked as he recalled how he’d taken the tray this morning, half-asleep and aching from his night in the crow’s nest. “Oh, God,” he suddenly mumbled in a frustrated moan, covering his face with a hand. “Marler – he gave me the tray this morning. Said something about how you’d like the rum; he even called you ‘Captain.’”
Will felt twelve degrees of stupid for not having caught it earlier, since they’d both assumed false last names and nobody on board was supposed to know Jack was a ship’s captain. They’d both been careful to cultivate the merchant seaman image and keep a check on each other to stick only to their first names when referring to or talking to the other man.
“Nothin’ to be done for it now,” Jack philosophized, and Will heard the strained growling of the man’s intestines. He wondered how much pain Jack was in from his double dose of food poisoning. “All we can do ‘s resist an’ fight. Get th’ swords.”
They’d hidden their weapons among the clothes in their trunk before coming aboard, not wanting to appear suspicious. Will pawed through as Jack watched from his perch on the edge of the bed, pausing every so often to hide a dagger inside some fold of clothing or a boot, which he’d taken precious moments to struggle into first. It’d been weeks since he’d done this on a regular basis, but his mind switched into automatic and Will found he was going through preparations while he mused on other things.
“Marler boarded with us in England.” He stopped for a moment, eyes wide. “Same time we did, I mean. I’m sure of it!”
“Least I think we’ve solved th’ mystery o’ who tried t’ have us killed back there, then.” Jack shook his head, eyes closed as he leaned forward a bit to quell his discomfort. “Don’ believe in coincidences.”
“So … what? He’s trying to recapture us?” Will asked, withdrawing Jack’s sword and belt from the bottom of the trunk. “Why?”
“Mebbe he don’ like bein’ showed up, lookin’ th’ fool.”
“Then why not poison us enough to kill us outright?” Will pressed. “Instead of trying to weaken us?”
“I don’ know, Will.” Jack’s voice was tired and exasperated. “All I know is we-“ At that, he shook his head and stood, leaping up on the bunk and stumbling to the edge to the porthole, shaking his head quickly.
Will understood when Jack managed to get his chin over the edge and he heard the vomiting, saw the spasms wracking the slender body. He put the sword aside and climbed up on the bunk to come up behind Jack, reaching for his hair and pulling it to the nape of his neck with both hands so it wouldn’t fall forward in his face. When Jack sagged against the wall, his forehead pressed to the top of the porthole, Will held the hair with one hand, lowering the other to reflexively rub small circles against the middle of Jack’s back; he remembered doing this once for Elizabeth when they were much younger, after a day spent eating too much and playing too hard running back and forth through high tide at the beach. “Better?” he asked, feeling oddly solicitous toward the other man.
After another moment, Jack pulled his head inside, shaking it, and reached up, using his sleeve cuff to scrub at his mouth and chin. He nearly stumbled backwards with the tilt of the ship, but Will caught him, the rubbing hand still on his back, the other going around Jack’s side so that the shorter man was briefly pressed against him in a loose embrace. Only then was he able to make out the muffled voices of men shouting up on deck, of cannon being rolled into place at the gunwales, and frowned over the man in his arms. “You’re in no condition to fight.”
“Aye.” For once, Jack wasn’t being contrary. He pulled away and lifted his eyes, narrow and calculating, to Will’s. “’S why I’m countin’ on that sword arm o’ yours. Even dead drunk, I can cock a pistol straight; that’ll be my job.”
“If we surrender right away, maybe he’ll spare the crew.” Will didn’t like giving up so readily, but neither did he want to bring death and destruction to innocents.
“’S what we’re gon’ try,” Jack nodded, climbing down from the bunk and gesturing at the trunk for Will. “I don’ think it’ll work all that well, but if we hold out, Francois’ll find us anyway. Men like him don’ enjoy bein’ thwarted, Will.”
Nor do men like you, Will thought, but kept it to himself as he climbed down and finished outfitting the two of them. He had a feeling Jack’s bloodlust knew narrower bounds than did Francois’s, and for more specific reasons than wounded pride.
*****
Though he clearly didn’t like it, Captain Montgomery Allen agreed that surrendering was his crew’s best chance for survival. Athena’s Pride was no match for the mass of the Versailles, and if Jack would pull his own Pearl out of a battle against it, Will would not stand off and watch a smaller vessel destroyed.
For once, Jack agreed, and used his persuasive skill to keep Allen from mounting a counteroffensive. With a look, he informed Will they’d have to surrender to protect Athena. Will didn’t enjoy losing any more than did Jack, but keeping in mind “what a man can do and what a man can’t do” forced their hand, and the simple fact was that Will could not comply in the needless slaughter of hardworking merchant seamen.
Jack’s plan was to signal their joint surrender and, hopefully, keep Francois’s men off Athena. The pirate wasn’t the only one skeptical of that line of reasoning, but any other way was certain death for everyone on the smaller ship, since it couldn’t outrun Francois.
Everyone stood at the rail and watched for a good half-hour as Versailles bore down, closer and closer, pulling alongside to weigh anchor. The men lining the larger ship’s rail parted, and the heavy dread in Will’s gut quashed the rest of his drug-induced fatigue right before Elias Francois stepped into the gap. For a moment his eyes roamed Athena as an attacker might scope out a solitary prostitute in a back alley with a full purse, but soon enough he deigned to settle on his primary quarry.
“Captain!” he boomed, jovial. “What in Lucifer’s great blazes are ye doin’ th’ hell way o’er there?”
Allen looked puzzled by the familiar tone, but Jack answered. “Rather know what you’re doin’ here,” he calmly called back. “Don’ take rejection well, do you?”
“I see you’re still in possession of your delightful blacksmith.”
Will simmered, but Jack laughed raucously. “Need somethin’ t’ keep me jolly,” he scoffed, tossing Turner a sideways lascivious glance. “Bit o’ whelp fluff works as well as any other kind, I s’pose.” Will didn’t care for the insinuation, but wisely restrained his sharp tongue. “An’ I s’pose you’re still rogerin’ tha’ ugly son of a beast ye had ‘pon our last meeting?”
“You think I’ve so little ‘magination as t’ limit myself t’ one?” Francois grinned unpleasantly, his eyes clear upon Will with this turn of conversation. The smith battled simultaneous urges to slice the man to ribbons and to slide down beneath the rail and take a long, scorching bath to de-grease himself.
“What is it you’re wantin’, Elias?”
“That’s Captain Francois to you, Captain Sparrow,” the man snapped.
A murmur went up among Athena’s crew as they looked to one another, then Allen, then to Jack. Allen himself was regarding Jack with disbelief, and the raven-haired man shrugged with a pretense of sheepishness Will knew for a fact he did not possess. “Pirate,” he offered in questionable tone.
“Is this why my men are in danger?” Allen demanded, sotto voce. “For a pirate war?”
“No,” Jack explained. “Matter o’ personal discussion ‘tween two men‘s all, Captain. I’m sure th’ good Captain’d be more ‘n glad t’ let ye go your merry way … s’ long as ‘e gets what he wants.” Jack arched a thick, dark eyebrow toward Francois, and the Spanish privateer shrugged one massive shoulder.
“Come ‘board an’ find out, Jack.”
“Not if you’re going to hurt this crew!” Will interrupted, jaw set.
Francois blinked once in his direction. “You’re dictatin’ terms t’ me?” Then he chuckled at Jack. “Looks like you’ve your work cut out for ye of a night,” he teased. The rest of his crew picked up the dirty laughter, and Will felt a flush of anger and indignation creep up from his collar.
“Will.” Jack pressed fingers to his arm to quell his anger, and for the first time, Will remembered Jack was sick. His bravado had given way to a waxy perspiration, and the smith wondered if he could stay upright. He raised his voice again. “We two’ll come aboard s’ long as ye swear not t’ hurt th’ crew or their ship,” he called. “Otherwise, nothin’ doing.”
“Feelin’ in a position to negotiate, are ye?” Francois shook his head. “You mus’ be daft, Jack; I’d say you’re hardly of a constitution to put up much resistance at th’ moment.” He smirked, and Will’s hands balled into fists at his sides. “I’d say it’s th’ fever makin’ ye talk such, ‘cept I ‘spect ye’ll be yammerin’ even from th’ grave someday, knowin’ you.”
“I’ve me smooth words,” Jack philosophized. “You ‘ave your tiny tadger. We’re all unique in our own special way.” Will was surprised to hear a snigger go up among Athena’s crew even as Francois’s face darkened. “We gon’ stand ‘ere all day doin’ what I do best, or you gon’ ‘gree to th’ terms?”
There was a noticeable pause while Francois visibly struggled to put his game face back on. “Fair’s fair,” he finally conceded. “You come ‘board, an’ I won’t hurt th’ crew or their ship.”
“The Athena, that is.” Jack demanded specification, obviously recalling Hector Barbossa’s penchant for splitting hairs.
“Aye.”
Jack looked to Will, silently assessing his complicity; he was giving the younger man the chance to back out. The smith narrowed his eyes and flared his nostrils, indignant, and Jack’s dark eyes flashed with the first humor Will had spotted in them since before the poisoning. “Aye, then,” he murmured in a low, rumbling tone which sent an inexplicable shiver through Will’s shoulders.
Turning back to Francois, Jack nodded. “We have an accord!”
Athena’s crew backed away enough, with care to show they weren’t fleeing, to allow Will and Jack to climb down into a rowboat and paddle their way to the Versailles. Will held the boat until Jack had climbed halfway up the ship, then took hold of the same rope and began his own ascent. Fear of retribution ate at his gut – they’d stolen out from under Francois’s nose not so long ago, and robbed the privateer – pirate – of what he’d obviously regarded as a valuable enough prize to chase through western Europe and across half an ocean. There would be some unpleasant payback, on that Will counted.
He hauled himself over the rail with a hand from Jack, who Will could tell was struggling not to drop to his knees and curl over on himself in misery. “We’ll get out of this, Jack,” he tried to reassure the man, wondering only afterward when he’d become the voice of optimism for the two of them.
“Aye.” His captain didn’t sound too sure, but turned to face Francois. “I’m curious ‘bout somethin’, Elias,” he began. “Why us?”
Francois held up a finger, dismissing the question and both men for the time being. “Ready?” he called back over his shoulder.
Loud “ayes!” went up from his crew, and Will felt his heart move into his throat. “Jack!” he hissed. “He’s-“
“I’m aware!” the pirate captain gritted back.
“Cannons ready!”
“NO!” Will lunged at Francois and was stopped by a strong arm around his midsection. “Goddamn, Jack, let me go!”
“Shut up, Will,” Jack commanded, stern. Raising his voice, he challenged Francois: “We had an accord!”
“I said I wouldn’ hurt th’ crew or th’ ship,” the Spanish captain rebutted, tone harsh. “Never said I wouldn’ kill ‘em or sink her.”
“Just like fucking Barbossa!” Jack growled.
For a moment, Francois leveled a hateful glare their way, and Will’s insides shriveled before blossoming into fresh anger. Fire in his eyes, Francois yelled, “FIRE!”
Will’s jaws ground as he lunged again, but Jack still held him back. Cannonfire impacted the Athena, strafing her port side with long, evil rips. Another volley let loose, and Will could hear the screams of men even as their smaller ship retaliated with a counter pitiful in comparison. The deck shook beneath Will, and he struggled away from Jack. This time, when he went for Francois, it was two burly pirates who clamped his arms behind him, dragging him back.
Though he shook and bucked and kicked, neither let go. In fact, the more he struggled, the more amused the two seemed to be. He was about to yell something more when a dreadful boom snapped his head around; the Athena’s powder magazine had been hit, and the stern half of the ship was simply … gone.
Gone was the ship that had kept him and Jack safe for three weeks, carrying them toward home. Gone were the joists and other fittings Will had begun replacing. Gone were the men he’d worked alongside for nearly a month, drinking with, joking with, learning their names and about their families. Gone soon – if not already – was Captain Allen, rigid but fair, with his reserved sense of humor and the love of his ship. Will closed his eyes, feeling two very unmanly tears brim from the inner corners as he bowed his head, not fighting his captors. “No,” he whispered, shaking his head, feeling the rage that had temporarily fled slowly pooling back at his center, balling in his belly as he raised his voice a little. “No.”
Snapping his eyes open, he jerked his head up, snarling at Francois. He twisted against the two sailors. “They surrendered! THEY FUCKING SURRENDERED!”
He heard Jack barking his name, and then he heard nothing as a sharp pain bludgeoned behind his ear, crunching his vision and thoughts to black and blank.
On to Part 4 ...
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no subject
Date: 2004-11-29 04:13 pm (UTC)I want to say all these fabulous and insightful things, and instead all I can think is "Wow".
I adore this honey, I adore this whole series, and this latest part is amazing. Will's emotion at the end is heartwrenching, the sense of loss quite palpable.
Your prose flows beautifully, and the characterisation is absorbing and has a very real quality to it.
Just a perfect piece.
no subject
Date: 2004-11-30 05:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-29 04:29 pm (UTC)*happy smiles* It's either been too long since I've read the series, or you've really out done yourself!
4th part soon!
no subject
Date: 2004-11-30 05:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-29 04:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-30 05:03 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-29 06:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-30 05:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-29 07:02 pm (UTC)Will's passionate struggle at the end really moved me. I love the way you portray his emotions.
*hopefully looks up* I hope there's a part 4....^_^
Your psychotic fan,
Alex
no subject
Date: 2004-11-30 04:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-29 07:20 pm (UTC)Just... wow. This is seriiously good fic you've got, and I most definitely like :)
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Date: 2004-11-30 04:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-30 04:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-30 12:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-30 04:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-11-30 12:40 am (UTC)I LOVE the way you write from both Jack and Will's POV in alternating sections of the series because you have them both down exactly as they should be. You write them incredibly IC. In this section, Will's emotions and reactions are dead on, especially in the final piece of part 3. Heartbreaking and believable.
I am SO on the edge of my seat waiting to see what is going to happen next! ^_^
no subject
Date: 2004-11-30 04:37 am (UTC)This little section was about the most exciting part of this particular part of the story. So, I hope everyone isn't too let down when they find that out. LOL
Thanks for reading!
no subject
Date: 2005-01-06 05:14 am (UTC)- mercutio