A Christmas Accord (1/2)
Dec. 15th, 2005 05:09 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dwgmThis is pure Christmas fluff, sequelish to The Christmas Guest which is part of my usual J/E plotline. It's also a request ficlet for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
__shy__, who wanted Jack and Estrella and the line, “Unhand me, madam!”
Many thanks tohereswith and honorat for editing and encouragement.
A Christmas Accord
Only slightly top-heavy after attending Lieutenant Groves’ convivial little holiday gathering at the King’s Arms, Port Royal, Jamaica, Captain Jack Sparrow moved on with some reluctance to his next social engagement of the evening: the Governor’s Christmas Party. “’D’ruther stay with you gents,” he’d told Groves and the others, “but Liz’beth’ll have me hide if I don’t show. Hope they’ve something besides Champagne – gives me a devilish head, that.”
Theo had reassured him on this point, but remarked that it was as well that it was a fair distance to walk. “It’s a fine night, and I daresay you’ll be quite sober by the time you’ve climbed that hill!”
“Walk! I’ll be doin’ no such thing. I’ve hired a hack!”
“You can ride?” Gillette exclaimed, in patent disbelief.
“’Course I can ride! Hung about the stables for a good many years afore I went to sea. You never forget how to sit a horse, y’know – even if you want to.”
The horse (or Jack’s memory) seemed a little skittish, but he finally managed to mount the steed, urged it to a canter, and clattered unsteadily up the hill to the Governor’s fair dwelling. As he entered the gates, he could see that every window was ablaze with light, and elegantly clad guests were still arriving. He frowned thoughtfully, as he turned his mount toward the stable.
“Captain Sparrow!” Jem, the stableboy, greeted him with a grin and a pull of his sandy forelock. “Merry Christmas, sir!”
Jack smiled amiably. “And to you, Jem!” He dismounted with only a little difficulty, and stood swaying in the lanternlight. “Whoa. P’rhaps Groves was right. That was some good rum punch he made.”
“Lord, sir!” said Jem, eyeing him with some concern. “Maybe you’ll like to go up to yer room and… um… rest a bit, afore you join the party. Yer trunk arrived this afternoon. The Rose Room again.”
“The Rose Room!” Jack preened a bit. “Pretty in pink, as always.” Jem laughed at that, and Jack grinned. “No, no! I’ll be fine, trust me. Ain’t I Captain Jack Sparrow?”
“That you are, sir,” said Jem, but looked doubtful, even so.
In the event, Jack elected to eschew the more mundane (and public) modes of ingress and enter by way of the French doors leading into the library. They were locked but, really, it was the work of moments to take care of that, and with minimal breakage and noise, too. Inside, there was some light from a fire in the hearth at the side of the room, but unfortunately not enough to prevent a collision with the delicately carved occasional table that some fool had left directly in his path, beside the sofa. The table, two books, and a half a carafe of brandy thudded to the carpeted floor.
“Shhhhhh! Shhhhhhh…” Jack said, putting his finger to his lips. Fortunately the carafe had not broken, and only a little of the contents were spilled. He patted at his pockets, searching for a handkerchief, but it seemed to have been mislaid so he made do with the tail of his coat, mopping up what had not soaked into Swann’s favorite Turkey carpet. Satisfied that all was in order, he lurched to his feet again, and crossed the room to the double doors leading to the hall.
The most delightful music was wafting on the air: one of those newfangled string quartets! Trust Lizzie to have only the best at her Christmas party. Pretty tune they were playing, too – Jack’d heard it before, and began to hum along melodiously.
His hum turned to a startled squawk, however, as he opened the door to the hall, stepped out, and found his arm gripped in a businesslike fashion. Really, the girl had come out of nowhere, and latched on to Jack’s arm like a limpet to a rock! He collected himself, with some effort, and looked down his nose at her.
“Unhand me, Madame!”
She pursed her pretty lips. “Not likely! You’re that Captain Jack Sparrow. Miss Elizabeth said you’d be coming. Said to be sure you was clean and dressed suitably for the evening’s festivities, she did, and I mean to carry out her orders. Neat and tidy it is, and I’ll not be gainsaid so don’t you go thinking it.” She stood on tiptoe and sniffed at him, then narrowed her eyes. “And sober!”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Jack said, brazenly, but the girl was having none of this.
“If you haven’t drunk a whole bowl of rum punch, my name isn’t Estrella Shipley.”
“Isn’t it? I mean… is it?” Jack’s brows rose, and he looked the girl over, from toes to curls. A light came into his eyes, and a smile to his lips at the way she was coloring up. “Shipley, indeed!” he purred.
She released his arm, and gave him a Look. “If you misbehave I’ll tell my mistress of you!”
He feigned alarm. “Oh, please! Not that!”
“Well, I will, then!”
He sighed, and looked hangdog, conceding defeat. For the moment. “All right. Lead on, Miss Shipshape… er, Shipley.”
“It’s Estrella.”
He smiled, again. “And I’m Jack.”
“You’re Captain Sparrow.”
Jack rolled his eyes.
Jack followed Estrella up the back stairs, intrigued by the view of her straight carriage, trim waist, and swaying skirts. His fingers itched to give that rounded backside just a tiny pinch, but he refrained, like a good little guest. She must’ve felt his intention, however, for she turned at the top of the stairs and gave him that Look again.
He smirked. “Why don’t I remember you, missy? You weren’t here last year.”
She continued on, leading him down the hall. “No, nor the year before. Miss Elizabeth gave me leave to visit friends ‘cross the island. But I was here that first year you came, when you was taken so ill. Doesn’t surprise me you don’t remember, you were that low.”
He shuddered a bit at the memory. “I was, at that. Don’t know what I would’ve done if they hadn’t taken pity on me.”
“Expired of an inflammation of the lung, I expect,” said Estrella, coolly. She opened the door of the Rose Room. “This time, of course, the threat’ll be of a different nature.”
“A boxed ear?” Jack grinned, passing into the room.
“Or a knife ‘twixt the ribs!” retorted Estrella, following him.
“You wouldn’t!” he said, his tone and eyes pleading.
She pursed her lips again (to prevent a smile!), and shook her head. “No, I don’t suppose I would. But really, you must behave yourself, Captain Sparrow!”
“Pirate!” he shrugged, and took a step toward her.
She colored, and looked belligerent. “Gentleman privateer is what I’ve been told.”
“Oh, aye. Privateer, certainly. And gentleman… occasionally.” She might be flustered, but she wasn’t backing away. Another step, and he could slip his hands about her waist. And did.
But she yielded no further. “Captain Sparrow! This is most unfair! Do you want me to lose my position?”
He frowned. “They wouldn’t!”
“They might! And I’ll not take the chance!”
“Not even one little kiss?”
Estrella shook her head.
“Oh, come on. You know you want to.”
She looked outraged, though she was blushing furiously. “You are des—“
“Despicable, I know,” said Jack with a bored air. “How many times must I remind you all? Pi—“
“Don’t give me that Pirate business!” Estrella snapped, pushing ineffectually at his hands. “You know how to behave!”
“Of course I do. Don’t mean I want to.”
“Well then, I don’t want to kiss you. Let me go!”
Jack did, and then smirked again at her sudden look of disappointment. Really, the girl was transparent as glass. “You mean, if I behave you will give me a kiss?”
Estrella gathered her composure, smoothed her skirts, and looked at him, trying very hard not to smile, and succeeding, for the most part. “Perhaps.”
“I knew you wanted to!”
“Well, what if I do!” she exclaimed. “Really, you’ve no right looking the way you do, makin’ a girl forget what a nasty old pirate you are!”
Jack bristled. “Old! And nasty? No one calls me nasty – or not many. And I’m in the prime of life, I’ll have you know.”
“I’ll lay you’re old enough to be my father!”
“Not so! How old are you?”
Estrella frowned at this impertinence, but said, grudgingly, “A score and six.”
“Ha! You see? Although… I was a precocious lad…”
“Oh! You’re des—“
“Despicable?” came another’s voice.
Estrella gasped, and Jack looked up with a smile. “Elizabeth!”
Elizabeth smiled in return, but addressed her maid. “Is Captain Sparrow misbehaving, Estrella? Shall I send for my husband, to teach him some manners?”
“Ha!” said Jack, folding his arms in front of him.
“Oh, no, ma’am. He… we… I was just leaving.”
Jack said, “We’ve had a delightful conversation and have come to an accord that will profit all concerned. Have we not, Estrella?”
Estrella opened her mouth. Shut it again. Then opened it once more. “Yes. Yes, we have. I’ll go get Peters, ma’am.” And blushing to the roots of her hair, the maid curtseyed and swiftly left the room.
Elizabeth stared after her, then turned to Jack. “What have you done to my maid, you villain!”
“Nothin’ at all, Liz’beth. Really, can’t a man have a bit of fun? It’s Christmas!”
Elizabeth shook her head. “So it is, and there will be gifts, but only for good boys and girls.”
“Oh, I’ll behave. Possibly more than usual. After all: there’s that little accord to think of, ” Jack said, with a wink.
“Jack…”
“Now, Liz’beth,” Jack said, sidling up to her. “It’s just some harmless diversion. Trust me!”
On to Part Two
__shy__, who wanted Jack and Estrella and the line, “Unhand me, madam!”Many thanks to
hereswith and honorat for editing and encouragement.A Christmas AccordOnly slightly top-heavy after attending Lieutenant Groves’ convivial little holiday gathering at the King’s Arms, Port Royal, Jamaica, Captain Jack Sparrow moved on with some reluctance to his next social engagement of the evening: the Governor’s Christmas Party. “’D’ruther stay with you gents,” he’d told Groves and the others, “but Liz’beth’ll have me hide if I don’t show. Hope they’ve something besides Champagne – gives me a devilish head, that.”
Theo had reassured him on this point, but remarked that it was as well that it was a fair distance to walk. “It’s a fine night, and I daresay you’ll be quite sober by the time you’ve climbed that hill!”
“Walk! I’ll be doin’ no such thing. I’ve hired a hack!”
“You can ride?” Gillette exclaimed, in patent disbelief.
“’Course I can ride! Hung about the stables for a good many years afore I went to sea. You never forget how to sit a horse, y’know – even if you want to.”
The horse (or Jack’s memory) seemed a little skittish, but he finally managed to mount the steed, urged it to a canter, and clattered unsteadily up the hill to the Governor’s fair dwelling. As he entered the gates, he could see that every window was ablaze with light, and elegantly clad guests were still arriving. He frowned thoughtfully, as he turned his mount toward the stable.
“Captain Sparrow!” Jem, the stableboy, greeted him with a grin and a pull of his sandy forelock. “Merry Christmas, sir!”
Jack smiled amiably. “And to you, Jem!” He dismounted with only a little difficulty, and stood swaying in the lanternlight. “Whoa. P’rhaps Groves was right. That was some good rum punch he made.”
“Lord, sir!” said Jem, eyeing him with some concern. “Maybe you’ll like to go up to yer room and… um… rest a bit, afore you join the party. Yer trunk arrived this afternoon. The Rose Room again.”
“The Rose Room!” Jack preened a bit. “Pretty in pink, as always.” Jem laughed at that, and Jack grinned. “No, no! I’ll be fine, trust me. Ain’t I Captain Jack Sparrow?”
“That you are, sir,” said Jem, but looked doubtful, even so.
In the event, Jack elected to eschew the more mundane (and public) modes of ingress and enter by way of the French doors leading into the library. They were locked but, really, it was the work of moments to take care of that, and with minimal breakage and noise, too. Inside, there was some light from a fire in the hearth at the side of the room, but unfortunately not enough to prevent a collision with the delicately carved occasional table that some fool had left directly in his path, beside the sofa. The table, two books, and a half a carafe of brandy thudded to the carpeted floor.
“Shhhhhh! Shhhhhhh…” Jack said, putting his finger to his lips. Fortunately the carafe had not broken, and only a little of the contents were spilled. He patted at his pockets, searching for a handkerchief, but it seemed to have been mislaid so he made do with the tail of his coat, mopping up what had not soaked into Swann’s favorite Turkey carpet. Satisfied that all was in order, he lurched to his feet again, and crossed the room to the double doors leading to the hall.
The most delightful music was wafting on the air: one of those newfangled string quartets! Trust Lizzie to have only the best at her Christmas party. Pretty tune they were playing, too – Jack’d heard it before, and began to hum along melodiously.
His hum turned to a startled squawk, however, as he opened the door to the hall, stepped out, and found his arm gripped in a businesslike fashion. Really, the girl had come out of nowhere, and latched on to Jack’s arm like a limpet to a rock! He collected himself, with some effort, and looked down his nose at her.
“Unhand me, Madame!”
She pursed her pretty lips. “Not likely! You’re that Captain Jack Sparrow. Miss Elizabeth said you’d be coming. Said to be sure you was clean and dressed suitably for the evening’s festivities, she did, and I mean to carry out her orders. Neat and tidy it is, and I’ll not be gainsaid so don’t you go thinking it.” She stood on tiptoe and sniffed at him, then narrowed her eyes. “And sober!”
“I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,” Jack said, brazenly, but the girl was having none of this.
“If you haven’t drunk a whole bowl of rum punch, my name isn’t Estrella Shipley.”
“Isn’t it? I mean… is it?” Jack’s brows rose, and he looked the girl over, from toes to curls. A light came into his eyes, and a smile to his lips at the way she was coloring up. “Shipley, indeed!” he purred.
She released his arm, and gave him a Look. “If you misbehave I’ll tell my mistress of you!”
He feigned alarm. “Oh, please! Not that!”
“Well, I will, then!”
He sighed, and looked hangdog, conceding defeat. For the moment. “All right. Lead on, Miss Shipshape… er, Shipley.”
“It’s Estrella.”
He smiled, again. “And I’m Jack.”
“You’re Captain Sparrow.”
Jack rolled his eyes.
Jack followed Estrella up the back stairs, intrigued by the view of her straight carriage, trim waist, and swaying skirts. His fingers itched to give that rounded backside just a tiny pinch, but he refrained, like a good little guest. She must’ve felt his intention, however, for she turned at the top of the stairs and gave him that Look again.
He smirked. “Why don’t I remember you, missy? You weren’t here last year.”
She continued on, leading him down the hall. “No, nor the year before. Miss Elizabeth gave me leave to visit friends ‘cross the island. But I was here that first year you came, when you was taken so ill. Doesn’t surprise me you don’t remember, you were that low.”
He shuddered a bit at the memory. “I was, at that. Don’t know what I would’ve done if they hadn’t taken pity on me.”
“Expired of an inflammation of the lung, I expect,” said Estrella, coolly. She opened the door of the Rose Room. “This time, of course, the threat’ll be of a different nature.”
“A boxed ear?” Jack grinned, passing into the room.
“Or a knife ‘twixt the ribs!” retorted Estrella, following him.
“You wouldn’t!” he said, his tone and eyes pleading.
She pursed her lips again (to prevent a smile!), and shook her head. “No, I don’t suppose I would. But really, you must behave yourself, Captain Sparrow!”
“Pirate!” he shrugged, and took a step toward her.
She colored, and looked belligerent. “Gentleman privateer is what I’ve been told.”
“Oh, aye. Privateer, certainly. And gentleman… occasionally.” She might be flustered, but she wasn’t backing away. Another step, and he could slip his hands about her waist. And did.
But she yielded no further. “Captain Sparrow! This is most unfair! Do you want me to lose my position?”
He frowned. “They wouldn’t!”
“They might! And I’ll not take the chance!”
“Not even one little kiss?”
Estrella shook her head.
“Oh, come on. You know you want to.”
She looked outraged, though she was blushing furiously. “You are des—“
“Despicable, I know,” said Jack with a bored air. “How many times must I remind you all? Pi—“
“Don’t give me that Pirate business!” Estrella snapped, pushing ineffectually at his hands. “You know how to behave!”
“Of course I do. Don’t mean I want to.”
“Well then, I don’t want to kiss you. Let me go!”
Jack did, and then smirked again at her sudden look of disappointment. Really, the girl was transparent as glass. “You mean, if I behave you will give me a kiss?”
Estrella gathered her composure, smoothed her skirts, and looked at him, trying very hard not to smile, and succeeding, for the most part. “Perhaps.”
“I knew you wanted to!”
“Well, what if I do!” she exclaimed. “Really, you’ve no right looking the way you do, makin’ a girl forget what a nasty old pirate you are!”
Jack bristled. “Old! And nasty? No one calls me nasty – or not many. And I’m in the prime of life, I’ll have you know.”
“I’ll lay you’re old enough to be my father!”
“Not so! How old are you?”
Estrella frowned at this impertinence, but said, grudgingly, “A score and six.”
“Ha! You see? Although… I was a precocious lad…”
“Oh! You’re des—“
“Despicable?” came another’s voice.
Estrella gasped, and Jack looked up with a smile. “Elizabeth!”
Elizabeth smiled in return, but addressed her maid. “Is Captain Sparrow misbehaving, Estrella? Shall I send for my husband, to teach him some manners?”
“Ha!” said Jack, folding his arms in front of him.
“Oh, no, ma’am. He… we… I was just leaving.”
Jack said, “We’ve had a delightful conversation and have come to an accord that will profit all concerned. Have we not, Estrella?”
Estrella opened her mouth. Shut it again. Then opened it once more. “Yes. Yes, we have. I’ll go get Peters, ma’am.” And blushing to the roots of her hair, the maid curtseyed and swiftly left the room.
Elizabeth stared after her, then turned to Jack. “What have you done to my maid, you villain!”
“Nothin’ at all, Liz’beth. Really, can’t a man have a bit of fun? It’s Christmas!”
Elizabeth shook her head. “So it is, and there will be gifts, but only for good boys and girls.”
“Oh, I’ll behave. Possibly more than usual. After all: there’s that little accord to think of, ” Jack said, with a wink.
“Jack…”
“Now, Liz’beth,” Jack said, sidling up to her. “It’s just some harmless diversion. Trust me!”
On to Part Two
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Date: 2005-12-16 04:33 am (UTC)(Love your Santa Jack icon!)