Dark of the Moon (23/36)
Apr. 25th, 2006 08:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dwgmHere's what will likely be the longest chapter of Dark of the Moon. Many thanks to the tireless ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
hereswith for editing and encouragement.
[23]
“Wake up, lass! We’re goin’ ashore!”
Letty struggled to sit up, only to be knocked back against the pillows again in her effort to catch a flying bundle of… men’s clothing! “What’s all this?” she demanded of her grinning captor. That smile! He was entirely irresistible—and knew it, too. She felt a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks, much to her annoyance. How obvious it must be that she was attracted to him!
“Your disguise. Best they don’t know you’re a woman. Might offer you some insult an’ then where’d we be?”
“I’ve no idea,” she replied, tartly. “Fighting a duel, perhaps?”
But Jack nodded. “Precisely.”
He would, too! she thought, staring. “Perhaps I had better stay on the ship.”
“There’s a market,” he said, tempting her. “And players!”
“Players?”
“Troop of actors, here for the festival. It’s some saint’s day or other and the town’s awash with minstrels, jongleurs, fire-eaters, acrobats. Not to mention the market’s three times the size it usually is. You’ve come to visit Cartagena at the right time, lass. Get up! Put on that gear and let’s go!”
Letty, whose eyes had widened as Jack enumerated the delights in store, conceded defeat. “Oh… very well. Go out and I shall get dressed.”
“You’re sure you don’t need help?” he said, all innocence.
She pursed her lips and, pretending an imperiousness that was entirely foreign to her nature, she stretched out a commanding arm and pointed at the door. “Out!”
He chuckled, and swept an elegant bow. “Yes, ma’am.” He straightened, adding, “I’ve still to find you a hat anyway, and I’ll be back to do your hair.”
“I am fully capable of brushing my own hair!”
“I daresay, but I like doing it. It’s little enough, when I’ve given up my bed to you.”
He didn’t bother waiting for a reply, but went out and closed the door. Just as well. She had felt obliged to object, but the truth was she enjoyed his ministrations in that area, having little patience for it herself. Her hair had always seemed a horrid penance to her, fine and easily tangled as it was, and her scalp so sensitive that grooming it had ever been a daily torture. How strange that this man, this pirate, should have the careful skill to avoid hurting her when no lady’s maid, or even her kindly old nurse, had ever learnt the trick of it.
She rose, set the bolt, and dressed as quickly as she could. She had never in her life donned men’s clothing and she felt as though she was doing something most scandalous. The dark breeches and linen shirt were a little large, but looked well enough when covered by the coat, which she loved immediately. It was of beautiful blue material trimmed with black braid and silver buttons, and its weight and sway pleased her mightily. She took it off and set it aside while she put on the stockings Jack had brought, and her own shoes. Then she picked up the brush and had begun to struggle with her hair when Jack returned.
She let him in and stood back, and felt an odd frisson throughout as his gaze swept over her.
“Not bad at all!” he remarked, dark eyes alight. He tossed a black tricorn atop the coat where it lay on the cot. “Give me the brush and turn around.”
Five minutes later, her hair lay in a tight queue down her back, tied with a black ribbon. “A bit long, but most gentlemanly for all that,” Jack said. Then they both started at a rap on the door. “A minute!” Jack called, and, to her, “Quick, put the coat on so he gets the full effect.”
“Who?” she asked, struggling into the heavy garment.
“Bootstrap.” Jack straightened the collar for her, then snatched up the tricorn and placed it atop her head at a jaunty angle. He smirked, satisfied, and she blushed again.
“Jack?” came Bootstrap’s voice through the door.
“Aye! Come in!”
Bill did, saw her, and his handsome face lit with surprise. “Well, what’ve we here, Jack? As likely a lad as I’ve seen this twelvemonth!”
“Your cousin Granger, Bill – don’t you recall? Mary’s sister sent him to visit and learn the ways of a merchant seaman.”
Bootstrap gave Jack a wry look, acknowledging the hit, but then said to Letty, “Of course. Well met, cousin Granger. You ready for a romp about town?”
“Are you going with us?” Letty exclaimed, vastly pleased.
“I am. Have to ensure my young cousin’s safety while he tours the city, don’t I?”
“Belay that! I’ll be with him,” said Jack.
“That’s what I mean,” said Bootstrap, pointedly.
Jack scowled, and Letty laughed.
*
She laughed a great deal that morning, which did nothing for her peace of mind. That this was somehow a betrayal of Brian, not dead a week, was ever ‘neath the surface of her thoughts. But, as Jack Sparrow and Bootstrap Bill strode along, radiating confidence, cheerful bravado, and a hearty, manly kindness that sprang as much from strength as good nature, she failed to see how she could have helped succumbing to the prevailing spirit of the day. Brian, wherever he was, would just have to forgive her. God knew she’d enough to forgive him!
The trio went first to the market, which consisted of whole streets of shops, cloth-enclosed stalls, and innumerable carts brought in from all around the countryside. The market was enormous, just as Jack had said, and full of the most varied and exotic commodities that could be imagined, everything from bundles of herbs, to uncut jewels, from fine, hand-illuminated prayer books to the furry skins of unfortunate and unidentifiable mammals.
There was a shop that did nothing but exchange money, coins of any origin. Jack and Bill, having concluded the Pearl’s real business in Cartagena over the last two days, went there to start, exchanging some of their large gold and silver coins for smaller, more easily spent ones. Jack slipped a handful of these into Letty’s coat pocket, much to her delight. She wandered about, perusing the vendors’ wares, happy in the knowledge she had the ability to bargain and buy on her own if she liked, though she was careful never to quite lose sight of her escorts.
She bought some bright ribbons, and a square of fabric upon which was embroidered a colorful and intricate scene. She watched the many craftsmen at their work, awed at the results of their marvelous skills: cups, jewelry, shoes, weapons, clothing.
Her attention was arrested at one point by an old crone selling a number of very strange objects, all more or less the same (elongated, cylindrical, tapering at one end), yet different in various aspects (length, width, material, color, texture) and looking remarkably like… like…
Letty jumped as Jack sidled up and whispered enlightenment into her ear. She turned to him, wide-eyed, cheeks aflame. “You’re joking!”
“Not in the least,” he chuckled. “Expensive, they are, too, some of ‘em. Would you be needin’ a loan?”
She gasped at the very idea, gave him a scathing look, and flounced away to the next stall, followed by his laughter.
She was soon lured back to his side, however. Many of the food stalls were exuding scents that made her mouth water, and, for the first time since she’d left Barbados, she found that she was starving! The comestibles here, however, were much different from solid English fare, and she didn’t trust her own judgment in choosing. Jack and Bill both came to her aid, the three of them purchasing and sharing dish after dish, so many wonderful things that finally Letty was almost ill of the surfeit.
“Let’s go sit in the shade for a bit,” said Jack, but, true to form, surprised her by leading the way to the enormous cathedral, which lay on the north side of the market.
The three of them entered the cool, dim space, quiet as mice, though the place was nearly deserted. Letty stared in fascination at her first sight of a Papist church, the little dishes holding “holy water” near the doors, the banks of candles, the gruesome or glorious statues, the colorful painting adorning the whitewashed walls, the rays of the sun shining down from the high, deep-set windows, the magnificent altar that appeared to be constructed entirely of gold, but made poignantly human by the many flowers provided by the faithful.
They found an out of the way place to sit, and spent a restful time whispering together, or just enjoying the odd serenity of the place. Near the end of their visit, during one of those quiet lulls, Letty said a silent, sincere prayer for her Brian. And felt better for it.
Then Jack Sparrow took her hand, and said, “Ready to move on and see some more?”
She looked up at him, and nodded, smiling.
*
Jack and Bill wandered about town, showing Letty the sights, and occasionally hailing acquaintances, friends who lived in Cartagena or crewmates on leave from the Black Pearl. Letty was invariably introduced as “Cousin Granger”, and this was always accepted at face value, though the Pearls they met usually seemed amused as they nodded and looked Bill’s “relative” over with an appreciative eye. Letty’s tentative efforts to adopt what she fancied were the mannerisms of a stripling just out from England met with indifferent success. Jack laughed outright, in fact, which inspired Letty to pull an offended face, then skip away with startled laughter of her own as he came after her, threatening to defend his dignity by “dusting” her backside. She subsequently abandoned the play-acting in favor of polite silence during their social encounters, or, if pressed, replied in deep-toned monosyllables that (she felt) did little to convey an impression of intelligence. However, in most respects she enjoyed the part she played that day exceedingly. Whether it was the comfortable, nicely concealing clothing, the excitement and satisfaction of seeing a new place unhindered by the inconveniences attendant upon females, or merely the easy camaraderie between her and her escorts, she had never in her life felt such a bloom of confidence and sense of freedom.
In midafternoon they came upon Cartagena’s opera house, and joined the stream of eager citizens making their way inside the large, ornate structure, where the visiting troop of actors would perform. Jack paid for a balcony box, somewhat to Letty’s relief – the pit seemed full of noisy ruffians. The play performed was Calderón’s Circe, a comedia that was more dramatic spectacle than rollicking wordplay, and performed in Spanish besides. However, her swains were very good about explaining the action, even translating where necessary. Jack seemed most fluent in the language, and for considerable periods of the two hours Letty sat with her head cocked against his, listening to his seductive, gravelly voice murmur lines or even whole passages for her edification. These were interspersed with his own humorous embellishments and asides, and she was hard pressed to subdue the laughter that came all-too-readily, and often at the most inappropriate moments.
During the interval, Bill went to buy refreshments, and Jack entertained Letty with a story of his time as a cartographer’s apprentice in Bristol. He had formed a clandestine association with the town’s own troop of actors and, for a few glorious weeks, had trod the boards himself. “Even played Juliet once – they were short of females at the time. I was good, too.”
“Better than I at being a man?” asked Letty, provocatively.
“Oh, infinitely, my word on’t. But, alas, my master found me out one night and it was all up. Talk about dusting of backsides!”
“Oh! He didn’t!”
“’Course ‘e did. Had a wicked way with a birch, too, the old devil. I stayed another year, though, ‘til he’d run out of things to teach me. Then I hopped a ship bound for the East Indies an’ never looked back.”
“I’m very glad to hear it,” Letty said firmly.
“Are you now?” Jack smiled.
“Yes. Was it a pirate ship? The one you ‘hopped’?”
“Oh, no. In Bristol? That’d be a sight! No, a merchantman. Good Captain and mate on ‘er, though – they knew their business. Some thought ‘em too hard, but for me it was like gettin’ free of gaol. It’d been three years since I’d been on a ship, but I hadn’t forgotten anything.”
“Three years? How old were you? When you were first on a ship?”
A shadow passed across Jack’s mobile face, but he said, “Not quite thirteen,” lightly enough.
Letty wanted to ask more, but just then Bill returned with the wine and some cakes. Shortly thereafter the second act of the play commenced, as did Jack’s witty narration. Her questions would have to wait.
*
The play had ended to wild applause, whistles, and shouts of approbation. The trio rose from their seats and left the box. Letty was floating on a cloud of well-being, and followed along after Jack and Bill as they descended the wide staircase. The two agreed that further libations should be procured without delay and had just begun a lively debate on the merits of the various taverns in the vicinity when they reached the floor of the lobby and Jack stopped short at the sound of a female voice.
“Jeeack Sparrrrow! Mi amor!”
Letty heard Bill say a quiet, “Uh oh!” and peeked curiously ‘round his shoulder.
“Señora del Amador!” Jack exclaimed, and caught the hands of an amazing creature, black-haired, black-eyed, with silky skin of palest gold, all heavy, perfumed velvet and satin overlaid with more glint and shine than Letty had ever seen on a woman. Her well-rouged lips shone where her little pink tongue had just licked them; her eyes sparkled with gleeful design, traveling down, then swiftly up to settle on Jack’s own, which lit in kind. He studied the Señora with equal frankness, and undisguised admiration: the beautiful face; the elegant neck; the full, perfect, creamy bosom, a great deal of which was revealed by the alarmingly low neckline of her gown, and was in addition adorned with an ornate necklace of heavy gold set with emeralds, rubies, and diamonds.
Jack smiled as the crowd flowed around them, listening to the Señora chatter. Presently he made introductions – “Bill, you remember the Señora? Granger, Señora Esmarelda del Amador, a friend of mine.” The Señora nodded, and curtsied slightly, but then ignored Bill and Letty, continuing to speak to Jack.
Letty didn’t understand the words, but she didn’t like the Señora’s tone at all. Bill cleared his throat, trying to get Jack’s attention, and Letty bit her lip, sensing what was about to occur.
She hated being right, sometimes.
Jack turned to Bill. “Bill, the Señora's husband is from home and she has need of… of advice. An important matter. Can’t wait. You can take care o’ Granger here for a bit, eh? I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Jack…” began Bill.
But the Señora had already linked her arm with Jack’s and towed him away, toward the doors.
*
Letty spoke very little on the way back to the harbor. She tried to make light of Jack’s defection, at first, but finally, seated in the jollyboat while Bill rowed them out to the Black Pearl, she fell silent and abstracted.
When they were nearly there, Bill stopped rowing and looked at her seriously, as they bobbed about on the light chop. “Mrs. Granger…”
His dark eyes were full of sympathy and worry. She smiled. “It might as well be Letty, after the day we’ve had, don’t you think?”
He nodded. “Letty, then. Ma’am… are you all right?”
She gave a sad little laugh. “Foolish, am I not? But yes, I will be all right.”
Bill searched for words, and finally said, “That Jack, he’s an odd one, sometimes.”
But Letty shook her head. “We both know there’s nothing odd about it. He’d consider it foolish not to take what is laid before him.”
“She’s the wife of a villain. They’re playin’ with fire, the both of them.”
Letty shuddered.
Bill noted it, and said remorsefully, “Now, now. I shouldn’t have said anything. The wicked flourish like the green bay tree, lass. Jack’ll be back, later, you may lay on’t.”
“Tonight?”
Bill’s mouth twisted. “Maybe.”
“But probably not.”
“Probably not,” agreed Bill.
*
TBC
hereswith for editing and encouragement.[23]
“Wake up, lass! We’re goin’ ashore!”
Letty struggled to sit up, only to be knocked back against the pillows again in her effort to catch a flying bundle of… men’s clothing! “What’s all this?” she demanded of her grinning captor. That smile! He was entirely irresistible—and knew it, too. She felt a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks, much to her annoyance. How obvious it must be that she was attracted to him!
“Your disguise. Best they don’t know you’re a woman. Might offer you some insult an’ then where’d we be?”
“I’ve no idea,” she replied, tartly. “Fighting a duel, perhaps?”
But Jack nodded. “Precisely.”
He would, too! she thought, staring. “Perhaps I had better stay on the ship.”
“There’s a market,” he said, tempting her. “And players!”
“Players?”
“Troop of actors, here for the festival. It’s some saint’s day or other and the town’s awash with minstrels, jongleurs, fire-eaters, acrobats. Not to mention the market’s three times the size it usually is. You’ve come to visit Cartagena at the right time, lass. Get up! Put on that gear and let’s go!”
Letty, whose eyes had widened as Jack enumerated the delights in store, conceded defeat. “Oh… very well. Go out and I shall get dressed.”
“You’re sure you don’t need help?” he said, all innocence.
She pursed her lips and, pretending an imperiousness that was entirely foreign to her nature, she stretched out a commanding arm and pointed at the door. “Out!”
He chuckled, and swept an elegant bow. “Yes, ma’am.” He straightened, adding, “I’ve still to find you a hat anyway, and I’ll be back to do your hair.”
“I am fully capable of brushing my own hair!”
“I daresay, but I like doing it. It’s little enough, when I’ve given up my bed to you.”
He didn’t bother waiting for a reply, but went out and closed the door. Just as well. She had felt obliged to object, but the truth was she enjoyed his ministrations in that area, having little patience for it herself. Her hair had always seemed a horrid penance to her, fine and easily tangled as it was, and her scalp so sensitive that grooming it had ever been a daily torture. How strange that this man, this pirate, should have the careful skill to avoid hurting her when no lady’s maid, or even her kindly old nurse, had ever learnt the trick of it.
She rose, set the bolt, and dressed as quickly as she could. She had never in her life donned men’s clothing and she felt as though she was doing something most scandalous. The dark breeches and linen shirt were a little large, but looked well enough when covered by the coat, which she loved immediately. It was of beautiful blue material trimmed with black braid and silver buttons, and its weight and sway pleased her mightily. She took it off and set it aside while she put on the stockings Jack had brought, and her own shoes. Then she picked up the brush and had begun to struggle with her hair when Jack returned.
She let him in and stood back, and felt an odd frisson throughout as his gaze swept over her.
“Not bad at all!” he remarked, dark eyes alight. He tossed a black tricorn atop the coat where it lay on the cot. “Give me the brush and turn around.”
Five minutes later, her hair lay in a tight queue down her back, tied with a black ribbon. “A bit long, but most gentlemanly for all that,” Jack said. Then they both started at a rap on the door. “A minute!” Jack called, and, to her, “Quick, put the coat on so he gets the full effect.”
“Who?” she asked, struggling into the heavy garment.
“Bootstrap.” Jack straightened the collar for her, then snatched up the tricorn and placed it atop her head at a jaunty angle. He smirked, satisfied, and she blushed again.
“Jack?” came Bootstrap’s voice through the door.
“Aye! Come in!”
Bill did, saw her, and his handsome face lit with surprise. “Well, what’ve we here, Jack? As likely a lad as I’ve seen this twelvemonth!”
“Your cousin Granger, Bill – don’t you recall? Mary’s sister sent him to visit and learn the ways of a merchant seaman.”
Bootstrap gave Jack a wry look, acknowledging the hit, but then said to Letty, “Of course. Well met, cousin Granger. You ready for a romp about town?”
“Are you going with us?” Letty exclaimed, vastly pleased.
“I am. Have to ensure my young cousin’s safety while he tours the city, don’t I?”
“Belay that! I’ll be with him,” said Jack.
“That’s what I mean,” said Bootstrap, pointedly.
Jack scowled, and Letty laughed.
*
She laughed a great deal that morning, which did nothing for her peace of mind. That this was somehow a betrayal of Brian, not dead a week, was ever ‘neath the surface of her thoughts. But, as Jack Sparrow and Bootstrap Bill strode along, radiating confidence, cheerful bravado, and a hearty, manly kindness that sprang as much from strength as good nature, she failed to see how she could have helped succumbing to the prevailing spirit of the day. Brian, wherever he was, would just have to forgive her. God knew she’d enough to forgive him!
The trio went first to the market, which consisted of whole streets of shops, cloth-enclosed stalls, and innumerable carts brought in from all around the countryside. The market was enormous, just as Jack had said, and full of the most varied and exotic commodities that could be imagined, everything from bundles of herbs, to uncut jewels, from fine, hand-illuminated prayer books to the furry skins of unfortunate and unidentifiable mammals.
There was a shop that did nothing but exchange money, coins of any origin. Jack and Bill, having concluded the Pearl’s real business in Cartagena over the last two days, went there to start, exchanging some of their large gold and silver coins for smaller, more easily spent ones. Jack slipped a handful of these into Letty’s coat pocket, much to her delight. She wandered about, perusing the vendors’ wares, happy in the knowledge she had the ability to bargain and buy on her own if she liked, though she was careful never to quite lose sight of her escorts.
She bought some bright ribbons, and a square of fabric upon which was embroidered a colorful and intricate scene. She watched the many craftsmen at their work, awed at the results of their marvelous skills: cups, jewelry, shoes, weapons, clothing.
Her attention was arrested at one point by an old crone selling a number of very strange objects, all more or less the same (elongated, cylindrical, tapering at one end), yet different in various aspects (length, width, material, color, texture) and looking remarkably like… like…
Letty jumped as Jack sidled up and whispered enlightenment into her ear. She turned to him, wide-eyed, cheeks aflame. “You’re joking!”
“Not in the least,” he chuckled. “Expensive, they are, too, some of ‘em. Would you be needin’ a loan?”
She gasped at the very idea, gave him a scathing look, and flounced away to the next stall, followed by his laughter.
She was soon lured back to his side, however. Many of the food stalls were exuding scents that made her mouth water, and, for the first time since she’d left Barbados, she found that she was starving! The comestibles here, however, were much different from solid English fare, and she didn’t trust her own judgment in choosing. Jack and Bill both came to her aid, the three of them purchasing and sharing dish after dish, so many wonderful things that finally Letty was almost ill of the surfeit.
“Let’s go sit in the shade for a bit,” said Jack, but, true to form, surprised her by leading the way to the enormous cathedral, which lay on the north side of the market.
The three of them entered the cool, dim space, quiet as mice, though the place was nearly deserted. Letty stared in fascination at her first sight of a Papist church, the little dishes holding “holy water” near the doors, the banks of candles, the gruesome or glorious statues, the colorful painting adorning the whitewashed walls, the rays of the sun shining down from the high, deep-set windows, the magnificent altar that appeared to be constructed entirely of gold, but made poignantly human by the many flowers provided by the faithful.
They found an out of the way place to sit, and spent a restful time whispering together, or just enjoying the odd serenity of the place. Near the end of their visit, during one of those quiet lulls, Letty said a silent, sincere prayer for her Brian. And felt better for it.
Then Jack Sparrow took her hand, and said, “Ready to move on and see some more?”
She looked up at him, and nodded, smiling.
*
Jack and Bill wandered about town, showing Letty the sights, and occasionally hailing acquaintances, friends who lived in Cartagena or crewmates on leave from the Black Pearl. Letty was invariably introduced as “Cousin Granger”, and this was always accepted at face value, though the Pearls they met usually seemed amused as they nodded and looked Bill’s “relative” over with an appreciative eye. Letty’s tentative efforts to adopt what she fancied were the mannerisms of a stripling just out from England met with indifferent success. Jack laughed outright, in fact, which inspired Letty to pull an offended face, then skip away with startled laughter of her own as he came after her, threatening to defend his dignity by “dusting” her backside. She subsequently abandoned the play-acting in favor of polite silence during their social encounters, or, if pressed, replied in deep-toned monosyllables that (she felt) did little to convey an impression of intelligence. However, in most respects she enjoyed the part she played that day exceedingly. Whether it was the comfortable, nicely concealing clothing, the excitement and satisfaction of seeing a new place unhindered by the inconveniences attendant upon females, or merely the easy camaraderie between her and her escorts, she had never in her life felt such a bloom of confidence and sense of freedom.
In midafternoon they came upon Cartagena’s opera house, and joined the stream of eager citizens making their way inside the large, ornate structure, where the visiting troop of actors would perform. Jack paid for a balcony box, somewhat to Letty’s relief – the pit seemed full of noisy ruffians. The play performed was Calderón’s Circe, a comedia that was more dramatic spectacle than rollicking wordplay, and performed in Spanish besides. However, her swains were very good about explaining the action, even translating where necessary. Jack seemed most fluent in the language, and for considerable periods of the two hours Letty sat with her head cocked against his, listening to his seductive, gravelly voice murmur lines or even whole passages for her edification. These were interspersed with his own humorous embellishments and asides, and she was hard pressed to subdue the laughter that came all-too-readily, and often at the most inappropriate moments.
During the interval, Bill went to buy refreshments, and Jack entertained Letty with a story of his time as a cartographer’s apprentice in Bristol. He had formed a clandestine association with the town’s own troop of actors and, for a few glorious weeks, had trod the boards himself. “Even played Juliet once – they were short of females at the time. I was good, too.”
“Better than I at being a man?” asked Letty, provocatively.
“Oh, infinitely, my word on’t. But, alas, my master found me out one night and it was all up. Talk about dusting of backsides!”
“Oh! He didn’t!”
“’Course ‘e did. Had a wicked way with a birch, too, the old devil. I stayed another year, though, ‘til he’d run out of things to teach me. Then I hopped a ship bound for the East Indies an’ never looked back.”
“I’m very glad to hear it,” Letty said firmly.
“Are you now?” Jack smiled.
“Yes. Was it a pirate ship? The one you ‘hopped’?”
“Oh, no. In Bristol? That’d be a sight! No, a merchantman. Good Captain and mate on ‘er, though – they knew their business. Some thought ‘em too hard, but for me it was like gettin’ free of gaol. It’d been three years since I’d been on a ship, but I hadn’t forgotten anything.”
“Three years? How old were you? When you were first on a ship?”
A shadow passed across Jack’s mobile face, but he said, “Not quite thirteen,” lightly enough.
Letty wanted to ask more, but just then Bill returned with the wine and some cakes. Shortly thereafter the second act of the play commenced, as did Jack’s witty narration. Her questions would have to wait.
*
The play had ended to wild applause, whistles, and shouts of approbation. The trio rose from their seats and left the box. Letty was floating on a cloud of well-being, and followed along after Jack and Bill as they descended the wide staircase. The two agreed that further libations should be procured without delay and had just begun a lively debate on the merits of the various taverns in the vicinity when they reached the floor of the lobby and Jack stopped short at the sound of a female voice.
“Jeeack Sparrrrow! Mi amor!”
Letty heard Bill say a quiet, “Uh oh!” and peeked curiously ‘round his shoulder.
“Señora del Amador!” Jack exclaimed, and caught the hands of an amazing creature, black-haired, black-eyed, with silky skin of palest gold, all heavy, perfumed velvet and satin overlaid with more glint and shine than Letty had ever seen on a woman. Her well-rouged lips shone where her little pink tongue had just licked them; her eyes sparkled with gleeful design, traveling down, then swiftly up to settle on Jack’s own, which lit in kind. He studied the Señora with equal frankness, and undisguised admiration: the beautiful face; the elegant neck; the full, perfect, creamy bosom, a great deal of which was revealed by the alarmingly low neckline of her gown, and was in addition adorned with an ornate necklace of heavy gold set with emeralds, rubies, and diamonds.
Jack smiled as the crowd flowed around them, listening to the Señora chatter. Presently he made introductions – “Bill, you remember the Señora? Granger, Señora Esmarelda del Amador, a friend of mine.” The Señora nodded, and curtsied slightly, but then ignored Bill and Letty, continuing to speak to Jack.
Letty didn’t understand the words, but she didn’t like the Señora’s tone at all. Bill cleared his throat, trying to get Jack’s attention, and Letty bit her lip, sensing what was about to occur.
She hated being right, sometimes.
Jack turned to Bill. “Bill, the Señora's husband is from home and she has need of… of advice. An important matter. Can’t wait. You can take care o’ Granger here for a bit, eh? I’ll catch up with you later.”
“Jack…” began Bill.
But the Señora had already linked her arm with Jack’s and towed him away, toward the doors.
*
Letty spoke very little on the way back to the harbor. She tried to make light of Jack’s defection, at first, but finally, seated in the jollyboat while Bill rowed them out to the Black Pearl, she fell silent and abstracted.
When they were nearly there, Bill stopped rowing and looked at her seriously, as they bobbed about on the light chop. “Mrs. Granger…”
His dark eyes were full of sympathy and worry. She smiled. “It might as well be Letty, after the day we’ve had, don’t you think?”
He nodded. “Letty, then. Ma’am… are you all right?”
She gave a sad little laugh. “Foolish, am I not? But yes, I will be all right.”
Bill searched for words, and finally said, “That Jack, he’s an odd one, sometimes.”
But Letty shook her head. “We both know there’s nothing odd about it. He’d consider it foolish not to take what is laid before him.”
“She’s the wife of a villain. They’re playin’ with fire, the both of them.”
Letty shuddered.
Bill noted it, and said remorsefully, “Now, now. I shouldn’t have said anything. The wicked flourish like the green bay tree, lass. Jack’ll be back, later, you may lay on’t.”
“Tonight?”
Bill’s mouth twisted. “Maybe.”
“But probably not.”
“Probably not,” agreed Bill.
*
TBC
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Date: 2006-04-26 05:19 am (UTC)Fun at the start, easy to feel the market and the cathedral when you write.
Then Jack taking off like a tomcat, and playing with fire; a scary overtone for the future.
Brava.
Felaine
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Date: 2006-04-26 06:07 am (UTC)Glad you liked the market and cathedral -- they were fun to write. Thank you very much for commenting!
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Date: 2006-04-26 06:01 am (UTC)Although do we expect anything less from Jack Sparrow? Of course not!
Very good story!
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Date: 2006-04-26 06:12 am (UTC)Glad you liked it! Thanks for commenting. :)
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Date: 2006-04-26 04:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 04:51 pm (UTC)Jack? I don't see him like that at all, especially at this point in his life -- except as regards the Black Pearl. ;)
So happy you're enjoying the story! Thanks so much for letting me know.
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Date: 2006-04-26 05:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 05:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-26 10:54 pm (UTC)LOL! Omigod, that is so, so great. I love you. The bit about Jack playing Juliet made me giggle, too.
Hmm. I think Jack's heading for trouble. And Letty's already in it, poor girl. Can't blame her, after Jack's turned on the charm.
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Date: 2006-04-27 06:03 am (UTC)Yes, indeed. She doesn't stand a chance.
So happy you enjoyed this! Thanks for commenting.
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Date: 2006-04-26 10:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-27 12:57 pm (UTC)This story is infinitely improved by your editing and suggestions, which is something other readers will never know. I truly appreciate all your help. As I've said before, you're the best!
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Date: 2006-04-27 11:20 am (UTC)chapterbreakfast treat!*adores young!Jack yet again* I love how his excitement about the carnival-style goings on show in his enthusiasm as he explains to Letty.
jongleurs Oooh, nifty word!
Awwwww... Jack wants to brush her hair. So sweet, though undoubtedly part of the reason he wants to do so is that he's fully aware of the effect it has on her.
"... Mary's sister sent him to visit and learn the ways of a merchant seaman."
Bootstrap gave Jack a wry look, acknowledging the hit
Little *squee* for Bill and Mary, and the considerate lie. I do love explorations of that issue - even small, offhand ones.
Her attention was arrested at one point by an old crone selling a number of very strange objects
Ohmigosh - history! *wicked giggle*
The market, the cathedral, the opera house (with Jack murmuring in her ear) - all wonderful and so rich in detail. And you even managed to put Jack in a dress (even though it was off-camera)!
Apologies, but am befuddled (and possibly not nearly awake enough to be reading such lovely fic) - did you import the Senora from Harry's universe? *giggles* "You seem familiar, have I dallied with you before?"
" ... and she has need of... of advice. An important matter. Can't wait...."
Excellent Jack!voice rhythms!
She gave a sad little laugh. "Foolish, am I not? ..."
Oh, *sniff* poor Letty.
um... edit: "the Señoras husband is from home" - think you need an apostrophe
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Date: 2006-04-27 01:18 pm (UTC)Also, have fixed the missing apostrophe. Thanks for the heads up.
Thanks, too, for the wonderfully lengthy comments! I am thrilled you found lots to love in this part. Re: the very strange objects - perhaps you recognize the crone and the objects from
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Date: 2006-04-27 04:28 pm (UTC)No no! It was just very vague bells going off about someone recognizing Jack-in-disguise, and early morning caffeine-deprived brain wondered if there was a connection I should have been making.
perhaps you recognize the crone and the objects from
Hee! Yes indeed. That was rather an unforgettable fic, IMO, and I knew he had gone looking for the old woman because he remembered her wares on an earlier visit, so it was especially fun to see you provide the history.
I find lots to love in Dark of the Moon because there's so much wonderfulness in the story (and more to come, la la lalala la la).
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Date: 2006-04-28 12:38 am (UTC)I want to smack him, but let's face it, he probably would do just pizackly this.
Cannot decide which I enjoyed most out of Jack seemed most fluent in the language, and for considerable periods of the two hours Letty sat with her head cocked against his, listening to his seductive, gravelly voice murmur lines or even whole passages for her edification [...] interspersed with his own humorous embellishments and asides - which was just mmmmm-mmmmm-mmmmm - and the slyly delicious old crone selling a number of very strange objects which made me squeak with delight. How lovely to see such a fabulous idea utilised again!
Meanwhile... CAD, I say it again. Humph.
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Date: 2006-04-28 01:29 am (UTC)I know! I absolutely couldn't resist. That's one of my very favorite Impverse stories. I hope your esteemed co-author won't mind. Probably should have mentioned I was lifting that element from the story.
And as for being a cad, well yes. But there are still a dozen bits of story left to tell. Somehow I feel certain he'll make it up to her, one way or another. ;)
Thanks so much for reading and commenting! I am so happy you're enjoying the story.
And now, on to the last Tim Tam -- my son-in-law ate a couple when he woke up from his jet-lag nap.
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Date: 2006-04-29 06:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-04-29 08:58 pm (UTC)He's pretty irresistible, even when being bad. I'm glad you like Letty, too. She's fun to write, particularly the bits from her pov. When I wrote Harry & the Pirate I was much more leery of writing from Harry's pov as I knew readers wanted the canon characters, not the OFC. But on the other hand, it's always interesting viewing the canon characters through the new eyes of OC's. The whole pov thing is great fun to fool with.
Posting the next bit now, and I sent part 25 to
Thanks for reading and commenting!
no subject
Date: 2006-05-17 11:28 pm (UTC)I love this wake up scene. Jack is entirely too perky in the morning. If I were Letty, I’d fire those clothes right back. And of course Jack is irresistible and vain as a peacock. Such a lovable scoundrel!
The disguise to deflect a dual is great. Jack planning ahead. And his enthusiasm for the market and players is just too tempting. Makes me want to go shopping with Jack. Excuse me while I just hop into your story. If you find a really annoying OC showing up, that’ll be me. (I'm even willing to play the Spanish strumpet)
Cartegena. Cartegena. Just love sayin’ it, mate.
I can practically see him vibrating with enthusiasm here.
“You’re sure you don’t need help?” he said, all innocence.
And that’s a lie if I ever heard one. Jack, you skunk! On the other hand, Letty say yes!
For a man who never seems to brush his own hair, Jack is a pretty fine lady’s maid.
At least she gets to wear blue instead of red!
“Your cousin Granger, Bill – don’t you recall? Mary’s sister sent him to visit and learn the ways of a merchant seaman.”
So Jack is digging at Bill’s cover story is he? What a brat!
“Are you going with us?” Letty exclaimed, vastly pleased.
“I am. Have to ensure my young cousin’s safety while he tours the city, don’t I?”
“Belay that! I’ll be with him,” said Jack.
“That’s what I mean,” said Bootstrap, pointedly.
Jack scowled, and Letty laughed.
This is my favourite bit of dialogue. Jack is so oblivious to what a menace he is! And good on Letty for learning to laugh at him.
The picture of the three of them having a good time together is wonderful.
as Jack Sparrow and Bootstrap Bill strode along, radiating confidence, cheerful bravado, and a hearty, manly kindness that sprang as much from strength as good nature,
I think I’m in love. Bootstrap or Jack or both. I’m not picky.
The details of the market are a treat for the senses. I’m such a detail fanatic. Favourites are the illuminated books and the mammals. And it’s nice of Jack to give Letty pocket money. And I did notice that little allusion.
The picture of the cathedral is lovely. I’m such a fan of cathedrals. It’s odd how all the greatest art and architecture is spiritual—temples and pyramids and cathedrals. And I like Letty finding some closure with her prayer for her late and not too seriously lamented husband. And the fact that Jack would take her there just to be quiet is an appealing facet of his character.
Letty’s experiences as a boy are very Shakespearean heroinish—the freedom to have social camaraderie with men.
I also enjoyed the little backstory for Jack. Juliet indeed! I’d like to see him play Rosalind! The little shadow is ominous too. I wonder what we’ll learn about Jack’s past in the next movies?
The Senora is of course a hoot. Wealth and bad taste—what a combination. And the opportunistic Sparrow would of course seize the moment.
The wicked flourish like the green bay tree,
Love the quotation. Wicked Jack does flourish. And it’s good that Letty is reminded that he may be a good man, but he is a pirate. A rather sad end to their happy day.
Such a wonderful story. I do love what you do with these characters.
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Date: 2006-05-18 02:11 am (UTC)Wheee! A review from the deliciously verbose
I'm very glad you liked Jack, and Bill too. Best men on the Pearl (not forgetting they are pirates, of course).
I'm a great fan of cathedrals, too. Can't really get enough of 'em.
Do you think it odd? I guess it's a very human idea, that nothing else is worth that kind of money, time and talent. They're like prayers, in solid form.
When I first started writing this I was thinking the new movies couldn't render it A/U as it's set so long before CotBP. But from the spoilers I'm hearing I now think I was wrong about that.
Yes, a sad ending to the day. But the story, although a fun ride at times, is bittersweet at its heart.
Thank you so much for taking the time to review in such detail. And now I need to edit that chapter of yours!
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Date: 2006-05-18 02:25 am (UTC)That's a lovely way of describing them. I guess I don't so much find the religious nature of great art odd as the fact that there's so much rejection of that type of thing among artists now. We now make temples to money--they're called skyscrapers and they don't quite have that sense of the numinous for me!
I was thinking the new movies couldn't render it A/U as it's set so long before CotBP. But from the spoilers I'm hearing I now think I was wrong about that.
There does seem to be a lot of backstory again. The mythology of the PotC universe increases apace. Things like the origin of the Pearl (which I'd really like to know) and some of Jack's history. I figured we'd find some of that when they started talking about getting Keith Richards to play Jack's father. And I've often wondered about the significance of the fact that Captain Jack Sparrow sails under Captain Jack Rackham's flag. Particularly with that historically vanished mother and child from Rackham's crew. But PotC doesn't tend to try to be too historical, so I'm probably barking up the wrong tree.