Fic: 'Harry & the Pirate VI: Blood and Treasure (Jack/Harry, etc. - 17/20)

[dwgm]

Chapter Seventeen: Deus ex Machina

Anne shivered in the chill air, standing close beside Tom at the bow of the Christiana, both of them watching as the Black Pearl glided toward their much smaller vessel. Anne had never considered the Pearl anything but Tom’s home and the site and source of grand adventures, but now she could well imagine the victims of the pirate ship quailing in fear. Indeed, Anne was trying not to quail herself, just now.

Tom slipped an arm about her shoulders and gave her a warm squeeze. “I was sure that storm had got us clean away, but apparently it speeded the Pearl along as well. Though how he knew our course… unless it was that damned compass.”

“Compass? The one that points to the Isla de Muerta?”

“Aye, but it doesn’t always, is the thing. I’ll have to tell you about it – but later. There they are.”

“My father… and yours,” said Anne. Tom did not reply and she looked up at him. “Aren’t you going to tell me it’ll be all right?”

He met her eyes. “It will. I hope. In the end.”

*

It did not, at first, seem as if Tom’s hope would be borne out.

The Pearl slipped alongside the Christiana amid sharp orders, thrown lines, and carefully placed fenders, Captain Sparrow’s roar of Mind the bloody paintwork, blast you all! inspiring both Pearls and Christianas to take extraordinary care in tying the ships together. This was only feasible at all as the sea, so turbulent with the night’s storm, had smoothed remarkably with the coming of the foggy gray dawn.

Anne gave a tentative wave to her stone-faced father and he called, “Are you all right?” She cleared her throat and shouted back, “Yes!”

And then a number of Pearls were swarming down to take charge of the Christiana, including Mr. Gibbs.

“Gettin’ too old for this,” Gibbs muttered as he straightened and looked around, grimly. He said in official tones, “Christianas will report immediately to the Pearl’s brig!” then added, “All except you, Tom. Your father wants to see you first. You’re well, Miss Anne?”

Anne nodded, biting her lip.

A bosun’s chair wafted Anne up to the Pearl’s deck where her father was waiting. Tears came to her eyes, tears that unfortunately were misinterpreted.

“Anne, he’s not hurt you?” her father demanded, taking her shoulders. And then, “How is it you’re so damp?” He released her and parted the front of the cloak she’d thrown on over her clothing before coming on deck. The whole front of her gown was wrinkled and stained with sea water, and when Tom gained the deck just at that moment, drier than he had been but still bearing evidence of the soaking the night’s storm had given him, her father – and his, as Captain Sparrow was approaching – naturally came to the wrong conclusion.

Captain Sparrow scowled and stepped up to his son, raising a hand. Tom visibly steeled himself, but the beringed fingers only caught his chin and turned it, the better to see the ugly bruise where Anne’s fist had struck, and the graze on his forehead from the brush she’d thrown. “Felt the need to fight you off, did she?”

“It wasn’t like that,” Anne said, desperately.

Captain Sparrow ignored her, eyeing his son with every evidence of distaste. “What the deuce you were thinking—“

“I love her,” Tom said.

Anne’s father said, in a voice cold with anger, “One does not incapacitate and kidnap for love.”

Anne said, quickly, “It was only a bit of that laudanum the doctor left—Father! ”

For her father had grabbed Tom by the front of his wet coat, Captain Sparrow made no move to intervene, and Tom, though wide-eyed, did not defend himself.

But Anne’s father had done no more than give Tom a single rough shake when an urgent call sounded from the Pearl’s lookout far above, “Sail Ho! Captain, she’s afire! ”

“What? ” Captain Sparrow whirled toward the Christiana, but the yacht was still safely tied alongside the Pearl. The captain swore, incensed, then yelled, “Who’s afire? Where away? ”

“She’s in and out of the fog, about a half mile, three points off the starboard bow! ”

Captain Jack drew his spyglass from his pocket as he stepped to the rail, followed by Anne’s father and Tom, too, their discord set aside for the moment, to Anne’s immense relief.

Tom immediately took out his own spyglass, and for a moment son and father stood side-by-side, scanning the foggy horizon. Then Tom exclaimed, “I have her! A merchantman… Lord, they’ll never put it out like that, what the devil are they doing?”

“Damnation,” said Captain Sparrow, “they’re running about like a pack of Bedlamites.” He turned to Anne abruptly and fixed her with a penetrating eye. “You’re sure you’re all right?”

“Yes,” she said, firmly. “And I’m going to marry your son.”

Captain Sparrow gave a bark of laughter. “Are you, begad?”

“That remains to be seen,” her father said, with a glare at Tom, who had turned, a joyous expression dawning.

“You can deal with Tom later, James,” Captain Sparrow said. “We’ve other fish to fry at present.”

“So it seems. But the wind’s dropped to almost nothing. Sweeps?”

“Da, let me take the Christiana,” said Tom, eagerly. “She’s a cockleshell to the Pearl, and bloody marvelous in light airs. You can follow with the sweeps.”

Captain Sparrow suddenly grinned at his son. “She’s a sweet little craft, ain’t she? How’d she do in that storm?”

“Took the waves easy as kiss my hand!” Tom said with enthusiasm. “You got your money’s worth, no worries.”

“I believe I did,” Jack agreed. “Aye, take her – though don’t expect me to make her a wedding gift.” He strode off, shouting orders to his men.

Tom and Anne’s father were swiftly joined by some others in untying the Christiana, and then Tom stepped over to Anne and kissed her.

“Be careful,” she told him.

“I will,” he assured her. He flashed a smile, and then he was off, grabbing a line and swinging down to the deck of the yacht. Anne watched him take command, Mr. Gibbs frowning briefly, but then following Tom’s orders, just as he did Captain Sparrow’s. The big fore-and-aft sails rose and rose and then caught the faint breeze. Anne waved as the Christiana veered away, aware of the scurry of Pearls behind her, but her heart entirely with Tom.

Anne’s father was still standing beside her. “This is your choice?” he asked her. “In spite of what he did?”

Anne looked up at him. “Yes. We were both foolish but… it wasn’t beyond mending. Father… please, will you not wish me joy?”

He hesitated, then said, “I must always wish you joy, of course. Though I may thrash that boy anyway, when this is all over.”

*

Tom was spared a beating, however, except for a comfortable, encouraging pounding on his back as he sat on a barrel, coughing and wheezing from the smoke he’d inhaled in the rescue of the last of the merchantman’s crew, a member of the ship’s night watch whose deafness had prevented him hearing the first alarms and shouts, sleeping until his own coughing woke him and then losing his way in the dense, acrid atmosphere.

Tom and the Christianas had first rescued the family of the merchant, a young and frantic wife, her four-year-old girl, and her baby boy, an infant in arms. They were taken aboard the Pearl as soon as possible, and, anxious to be of use, Anne took charge of them. She reassured the woman, who had been understandably apprehensive at being rescued by pirates (“So that is the famous Captain Sparrow! Dear me. He is as handsome as they say.”), extended sympathy and a tot of Jack’s best French brandy in the Great Cabin, and left her to nurse her baby in peace. The little girl was most excited at the disaster, and Anne took her by the hand and led her back out on deck to watch the thrilling spectacle from a safe distance.

There were no fatalities and few injured, but the merchant ship could not be saved, nor could most of its cargo. The vessel finally went up in flames entirely, roiling clouds of black smoke billowing away, and the sounds of crackling and popping explosions did not cease until she sank beneath the waves, to the horrified groans of her owner and captain.

“Sorry we couldn’t save her, mate,” said Captain Sparrow, sooty himself, and coughing occasionally.

Anne’s father told the man, “It is an unfortunate loss, but you have escaped with your lives, which is the most important thing.”

“I know, I know,” said the merchant. He looked up at them, and particularly at Tom. “What we would’ve done if you hadn’t been at hand I can’t imagine. Thank you. Thank you, all. Sarah!”

Anne released the little girl’s hand and she ran to her papa to be caught up in his embrace.

“Annie!”

Anne turned at the sound of Tom’s hoarse voice and went to him. He had got his coughing under control, and now he lifted his arms. She went to him immediately, her pirate and good man. He drew her down and she sat on his knee and hugged him fiercely, ignoring the soot and blood – he’d cut his ear, somehow, and it was all over the side of his neck. “I love you, Tom Sparrow,” she said, happy tears in her voice, and she kissed him.


Continued in Chapter Eighteen: Anticipation

Comments

[geekmama.livejournal.com]

Well, was a whopper of a deux!!

Well, it would have to be in order to distract them from murdering Tom; but as captain and admiral they are long accustomed to sticking to "first things first".

I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you for reading and for the lovely comments.