Fic: Crossing the Bar (21/?)

[honorat]

Author: Honorat
Rating: R for blood and language
Characters: Norrington, Groves, the crew of the Dauntless
Pairing: Jack/Anamaria somewhat; Jack/Pearl definitely but not in this one
Warning: Primitive medical procedures described in detail
Disclaimer: The characters of PotC! She’s taken them! Get after her, you feckless pack of ingrates!

Summary: On board the Dauntless the hunt continues and a surgery takes place. Not for the faint of heart or stomach. Nota bene: The failure to utilize opiates is historically accurate for this time period. Every once in awhile, I have to write some raving sailing. Every once in awhile, I have to write some raving sailing. Norrington has finally got the Black Pearl trapped. Jack is bound to do something crazy, but will it be the last thing he does?

Thanks to geek_mama_2 for the beta help.


1 Ambush
2 No Regrets
3 The Judgment of the Sea
4 The Sea Pays Homage
5 Risking All That Is Mortal and Unsure
6 Troubles Come Not Single Spies
7 To Dare Do All That May Become a Man
8 Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here
9 A Special Providence in the Fall
10 For Where We Are Is Hell
11 To Beat the Surges Under and Ride Upon Their Backs
12 One Equal Temper of Heroic Hearts
13 Though the Seas Threaten, They are Merciful
14 He Jests at Scars Who Never Felt a Wound
15 To Strive, To Seek, To Find, And Not To Yield
16 A Kind of Alacrity in Sinking
17 A Fine-Baited Delay
18 To Watch the Night in Storms
19a The Natural Shocks That Flesh is Heir To, Part 1
19b The Natural Shocks That Flesh is Heir To, Part 2
20 To Disguise Fair Nature with Hard-Favour'd Rage

* * * * *

21 Valour's Show and Valour's Worth

Under Gillette’s capable command the Dauntless was making good time in her rather aimless search for the Black Pearl, her sails bellying in the wind, spray flinging from her cutwaters to join with the steady rain, by the time Samuels’ assistant, Bailey, deferentially ushered the two conscripted officers into the surgery. Commodore Norrington saw Lieutenant Groves freeze for a moment as his vision adjusted to the interior lighting sufficiently to show him their small victim. When last the lieutenant had set eyes upon Jip, he’d been as lively as a cricket, sputtering and threatening like a hand grenade on the decks of the Dauntless in spite of his injuries, tying the smooth lines of activity on a king’s ship into knots of confusion all by his pint-sized, piratey self. Now he lay motionless in the swaying hammock, eyes half-lidded and barely tracking the swirl of medical motion that eddied about him, his face ashen and glinting with perspiration, his breath no longer spitting defiance but rasping quick and shallow.

It had been less than twenty minutes since the commodore had last seen the boy and already the margins of the mortified flesh surrounding the wound had expanded noticeably, dusky and livid. The characteristic foul-smelling, rusty ichor drained from the swollen and blistered tissue.

Groves looked stricken. “Poor little chap,” he exclaimed softly. “What have we done to you?”

The eyelids snapped fully open, and blue lightning flashed. “I am not a poor little chap, you damned Navy bag-pudding!” Jip objected strenuously.

“Watch yourselves, gentlemen,” the doctor laughed. “He may be indisposed, but this young devil can still bite your fingers off at the elbow if you run afoul of his mouth.”

“Ungrateful brat!” Groves decided, grinning.

Jip subsided, apparently appeased by the uncomplimentary epithet.

“That officer to whom you were so very polite,” the doctor said pointedly to his patient, “is Lieutenant Groves, who has kindly consented to assist me in saving your wretched life. So you might do well to treat him as a fairly mild form of enemy rather than as the arch-fiend of darkness.”

The lieutenant stepped to Jip’s side and held out his hand. “I’m always happy to meet a member of Captain Sparrow’s crew,” he said sincerely. “Best pirate and navigator I’ve ever seen. If I promise that not one word of sympathy will pass my lips, can we have a truce?”

Jip’s eyes were the only alive-looking feature about him as they studied the young officer warily. Norrington realized that his lieutenant was being weighed in some critical balance in that busy, feverish little head.

“Did you really meet Captain Sparrow?” the boy asked finally.

“Gave him grog and salt horse with these two very hands after he piloted us to the Isla de Muerta,” Groves said holding up the hands in question. “Didn’t wash for a month!”

“That was a whisker.” Jip decided, scenting the lie.

“A regular bouncer,” the lieutenant agreed, shrugging. “I ran to the doctor for a flea dip the instant I left his company.”

Jip giggled. “I have fleas,” he offered.

Groves pulled a disgusted face. “I’m not surprised. The moment I saw you, I felt quite sure of it.”

Samuels, watching the boyish young man charm his suffering patient, growled for the commodore’s ear only, “That was one of your better ideas if I do say so myself, James, my lad.”

Norrington nodded. “That those two would get along famously was a foregone conclusion,” he said.

The boy was holding out his hand now. “Truce,” he agreed.

Groves looked at the grubby little fingers then at his own hand. Turning to Samuels he asked, “Have you any treatment for fleas about?”

“I keep a vat of vinegar just for you, Theodore,” the doctor replied. “No woman in port will come near you for a month.”

“Very well,” Groves sighed. “I think I can risk it.”

“If we’re very fast, perhaps they won’t jump across,” Jip said mischievously.

Their hands met in a quick clasp, and Groves snatched his away as though in terror of a mass flea migration. Carefully he scrutinized every surface of his hand. Looking up at Jip who was still giggling like a teakettle on the boil, he frowned. “I do believe I’ve escaped contamination. But if I am bitten by a flea tonight, I shall know whom to blame and my retribution will be extreme.”

“Children,” said the doctor patiently. “While I do hate to interrupt such a heartwarming exchange of vermin, I am afraid we have work to do. That leg is not improving while we speak.”

The tone of the room sobered. Life and death had entered the lists in this gently rocking chamber out on the high seas.

“Commodore, Lieutenant, if you could carry the boy to the table?” Samuels suggested, gesturing with the sharp knife that he then laid down next to the rest of his tools.

As the two men detached the hammock, Norrington reflected that the child in it scarcely weighed anything at all. Once again he wished this fragment of humanity had not been caught up in their grinding mill of law and lawlessness. Carefully, trying not to hurt him further, they set him on the unyielding wooden surface, but even such a light jar wrenched Jip’s face and wrung a hiss from his clenched teeth.

“Sorry,” Groves muttered.

They stood back as Samuels and Bailey positioned the boy on the table. Then the assistant busied himself with pouring sand on the decking under the injured leg. It would soak up the blood and make the deck less slippery and easier to clean.

“Do you understand what I am about to do?” Samuels asked gently, meeting Jip’s gaze.

Jip nodded and bit his lip. “You’re going to cut off my leg,” he said very quietly. “I’ve seen it done before. Three times.” Large, fevered eyes searched Samuels’ face. “They all died,” the boy added in a small voice.

Norrington felt his stomach twist. Jip was correct. If the amputation itself were not fatal, the subsequent inflammation usually was. However, the boy was dying now. The doctor really had no other option. The operation would give the child a 35 percent chance of surviving.

But Samuels spoke reassuringly. “They were all older sailors, weren’t they?” he asked. “Drank hard, wenched hard and lived hard, right?”

“Yes,” Jip said. “They always said Hugh was going to pickle himself with rum.”

“Then you need not worry.” The doctor smiled. “As long as you’ve not been drinking and whoring and carousing much lately?”

Groves snorted and Jip gave a shaky laugh and shook his head. “Captain Sparrow won’t let me. He says it’s a good way to end up with an empty head and an even emptier purse.”

“It sounds like your captain is a wise man,” Samuels approved.

“No,” Jip said firmly. “Just a very bad example, Anamaria says.”

“Who is Anamaria?” Norrington asked curiously.

The little pirate’s eyes went suspicious and his lips clammed shut.

Out of the boy’s sight, Samuels made tongue-amputating motions with his fingers and mouth and glared at the commodore. Then he glided smoothly into the awkward silence. “There, I told you you had no cause for concern.” He squeezed his patient’s shoulder comfortingly. “You’re young and strong and healthy except for this leg. And we don’t have to take much off. You’ll be fine.”

No doubt lurked in Samuel’s voice or in his open countenance. Norrington wondered if the doctor really believed what he was saying or if he had merely mastered the art of the charitable lie.

In the interests of bolstering the doctor’s reputation, Norrington added, “You could not be in better hands, Jip. Doctor Samuels is the man I would want to take off my leg if it had to be done.”

“Such an encomium, James!” the doctor said dryly. “It quite unmans me.”

Norrington smirked humourlessly at his old friend. A thought occurred to him. “Have you given the boy rum?” he asked.

Samuels raised an eyebrow. “Treating him like an officer, are you?”

“Doctor,” said Norrington. “He is a child.”

“I know that,” Samuels said. “I’m glad to see you do, too. Of course I’ve given him rum. And I’ll be giving him some more. Bailey?”

Taking the bottle from his stocky, mahogany-skinned assistant, the doctor propped Jip’s shoulders up with a strong arm. “Here you go, lad. Bottoms up. We want you thoroughly foxed before this little procedure. Rip roaring drunk, in fact.”

Jip eyed the bottle suspiciously. “Will that make my head empty?”

“I certainly hope so,” Samuels said with hearty cheer that sounded a bit forced to Norrington. “You can worry about getting sober after this is over.”

“But I want to watch what you’re doing,” Jip decided.

Norrington and Groves exchanged incredulous glances. Samuels looked stunned for a moment.

“Son,” the doctor said kindly, “you don’t know what you’re asking. Trust me. You really want to be as close to unconscious as possible for this.”

“I want to see,” the boy insisted stubbornly.

“You don’t understand,” Samuels explained less patiently. “This is not going to hurt just a little bit. This is going to hurt like the bloody blazes.”

“Already hurts like hell,” Jip said with pig-headed determination worthy of his mentor.

“Obstinate whelp,” Groves put in.

“Now why do you want to do such a chuckle-headed thing?” the doctor asked.

“Because I’m int’rested,” Jip explained, attempting to raise his head to look at the mangle of his lower leg.

“He’s got you there, Gil,” Norrington laughed. “How can you resist the entreaty of such a budding scientist? It would be professional discourtesy!”

“Fever’s sent him round the bend, that’s my diagnosis,” the doctor groused. “All right you damned young paperskull. You empty this bottle to here,” he indicated a mark on the bottle several inches down that would assure that Jip had consumed enough rum to float a small armada, “and I’ll get these fine gentlemen to prop you up so that you can watch this operation for as long as you have the intestinal fortitude to do so.”

At Jip’s confused expression, Groves interpreted, “Guts, he means as long as you have the guts to watch.”

“I have lots of guts,” Jip said.

“More bottom than sense, that’s what you have.” Groves shook his head at their patient. “Most of us have guts, but we prefer not to see ‘em.”

Jip gave him a pitying look. “How do you find out anything?” he asked.

“We look at other people’s guts,” Samuels cut in acerbically. “Now drink your rum like a good pirate.”

In short order Jip was ensconced in a semi-upright position on a pile of canvas shreds that were well on their way to becoming baggywrinkles. His eyes, hazed with rum and fever, followed the actions of his four attendants with determined concentration. Occasionally he would hiccough gently.

Samuels directed Norrington and Groves to either side of the table and indicated that they should take hold of the boy’s arms and legs. The two officers shed their coats, rolled up their sleeves and did as they were bid. As the commodore closed his hands around the fragile-seeming limbs, it struck him again how very young their patient was. His fingers could nearly wrap twice around the slender wrist. The boy’s pulse fluttered like a trapped wild thing against his hand and the skin was disturbingly hot to the touch.

When the doctor took up a leather strap with a buckle on the end, Jip asked, “What’s that for?”

“This,” said Samuels, “is called a tourniquet. I’m going to place this just above your knee and draw it tight.” He suited his actions to his words. “This will pinch off the arteries and veins in your leg so that you don’t bleed to death when I cut into them. Those are the tunnels the blood travels in.” As he buckled the device, he pointed out the increased flush of colour on the boy’s thigh. “See. All the blood will stay there until we’re ready for it again.”

“Now,” Samuels instructed Bailey, “get the lad the stick to gnaw on.”

His assistant turned to pick up the object when Groves interrupted. “Wait,” the lieutenant said. “I forgot something.” Leaving Jip unrestrained for a moment, he fished about in the deep pocket of his coat. “Here it is!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “One of the midshipmen whittled this for you, Jip.” He held up a clean white length of wood.

“That is what I call a thoughtful gift,” Norrington grinned. “What do you think, Jip? Now you won’t have to chew on Navy spittle.”

“Do I have to?” Jip eyed the gag with distaste.

“Much as I hate to say this,” the doctor teased, “you really don’t want to chew off your tongue. Not that the quality of language wouldn’t improve around here if you did, but I took an oath. So open wide and bite, young man.”

Jip seemed more disturbed by his inability to talk than he was by the impending surgery. “You’ll tell me everything?” he insisted. “I can’t ask, but I want to know.”

“I’ll explain everything I’m doing,” Samuels reassured him. “I promise.”

As soon as Jip had the gag situated, the doctor held out his palm and Bailey handed him the knife. “First, I’m going to have to cut through the flesh down to the bone,” he told the boy, with clinical detachment that Norrington could only admire. “I’ll be amputating about four inches below your knee in order to be sure of removing all the dead tissue so it can’t poison you more. Fortunately you’ll keep the joint. It’s all right if you want to yell. Sometimes making a lot of noise helps you bear it.”

At the first bite of the knife, Norrington felt the small arm and leg go rigid under his grip. He tensed for a struggle, but although the child cried out, he did not fight the restraint and his eyes opened again almost immediately to watch in fascination as the crimson blood welled against his pale skin.

Samuels worked with his usual swift sureness, making the incision through the muscle, down to bone, first from above, then from below, leaving a flap of skin on the inside of the boy’s leg. “That’s to cover the stump when I close you back up,” he informed Jip.

The instant the last bit of flesh parted, Bailey offered a selection of crooked needles to the surgeon. “I’m using these to tack the severed arteries away from the area I’m going to be working,” the doctor continued, accomplishing this feat with lightning speed. “Retractor,” he said to his assistant. Slipping the leather cuff around the incision, Samuels explained, “This will fit over the bone and pull back the muscle so I have room to saw.”

Norrington glanced away. He could feel the corners of his mouth twisting in a sympathetic grimace. There was something too disturbing in such a violation of a body, no matter how many times he witnessed it, even though he knew that the intent was to heal rather than to harm.

Jip’s shivering flesh felt cold and damp now, like the spokes of a ship’s wheel in a storm. His face had lost all colour so that the dense black lashes that bunched against his cheeks when the pain grew too unbearable stood out with the contrast of soot on snow. His breath rattled around the wooden gag in gasps that held overtones of whimpers. And yet the child refused to look away from the doctor’s work for long. Lieutenant Groves, the commodore noted, had shifted from holding the boy’s arm to letting Jip clutch his hand. The lieutenant met his commanding officer’s eyes and pulled a wry face. Nodding to where the small tendons and knuckles strained claw-like as they crushed his fingers, Groves murmured under his breath, “He’s stronger than he looks. The doc is going to have me as his next patient!”

When an adequate section of bone lay revealed, Samuels selected a light saw. “You’ve such bird bones, young rascal, that there’s no need for the large saw I use on the legs of great hulking men like the commodore there. Don’t worry. I’m very fast at this.”

The forty seconds it took the doctor to saw through the tibia and fibula seemed to take hours, the sound grating harshly against nerves. Finally, however, the deadened and toxic limb was completely separated. Samuels let it drop, unnoticed to the blood-stained floor, making a dull thunk. With a flick of his wrist, he released the retractor and allowed the muscle to surround the bared bones.

“All done,” he informed Jip. “That shouldn’t be bothering you any more. Now I’ll just be applying ligatures to those divided arteries and veins so you don’t lose too much blood when I remove the tourniquet.” He showed the boy the thread. “Finest silk,” he said impressively. “No mere cotton or horsehair for the guests of the Dauntless!”

At this point the amputation was nearly complete. Only the preparation of the stump remained. Samuels was an expert sawbones—from the first cut to the last ligature, scarcely two minutes had passed—but Norrington felt as though he had stood for hours, and he imagined Jip felt it had taken days. The boy was trembling and sweating, and unacknowledged tears had left glittering tracks along his cheeks, but he was still valiantly concentrating on his first lesson in amputation, where he was both pupil and subject. The commodore readily admitted that he himself would never have had the courage.

Exchanging thread for knife, Samuels ignored the boy’s tears and spoke to the fascination. “Now I’m going to scrape any ridges and sharp edges off the bone,” he explained. “You don’t want anything to irritate or work back through the skin covering the wound.”

There were few more horrifying sounds, Norrington decided, than the sound of steel scraping on bone. He noted that Groves was looking a little pale and was determinedly observing Jip’s face rather than the ongoing operation.

“There’s a reason I did not go in for Medicine,” Groves said fervently when he became aware of the commodore’s gaze. “If a shot ever gets me, I hope it gets me fair and square with none of this gradual removal of parts.” He smiled down at the young pirate’s startled blue eyes. “You’re a braver man than I am, Jip.”

Samuels gave a huff of amusement as he laid down his knife. “Brave or daft, it’s hard to say. Well, lad. It’s on to the last step—tucking all those loose blood vessels away and suturing that flap of skin back over the ends of the bone. It looks like you’re going to survive this day.”

With gentle skill the doctor completed the preparation of the boy’s stump, stitching it neatly except for a hole left for drainage. “There you are, Jip,” he said finally, setting down needle and thread and turning to scrub the blood off his hands in a basin of water. “As dandy an amputation as you could hope for. I told you not to worry. You can spit out that gag now.”

Jip did so with enthusiasm.

The commodore released the boy’s limbs, realizing his hands were cramping. Groves kept hold of Jip’s hand and patted it reassuringly. “You’ll be a grand peg-leg pirate now, won’t you whelp?”

Jip managed a shaky smile for the lieutenant. Then he turned to the doctor. “Can I see my leg you cut off?”

The doctor’s eyebrows lifted his hairline. “I’ve never had a patient with quite your level of insouciance, young man. That is not going to be a thing of beauty.”

When Jip showed no sign of repenting his desire, Samuels capitulated. “Very well. While Bailey here dresses your wound with egg yolk, oil of roses and turpentine and puts on the lint and bandages, I’ll show you what makes up a leg.”

Norrington gave a strangled noise of protest. There were some things he’d rather not know about his insides. Samuels stared at him witheringly. “You lily-livered officers are free to go now,” he said. “Jip and I are going to have an anatomy lesson, and then I’m putting him to bed.”

With unseemly haste, the commodore and the lieutenant scrubbed their hands that had been spattered with Jip’s blood and donned their coats. Nevertheless, they did not escape before hearing Samuels begin, “Now feel the difference between your healthy flesh and this crackly swollen area. There’s poison gas in there . . .”

The two heads, one grizzled grey and the other gold, scarcely looked up from the object under scrutiny to acknowledge Norrington’s and Grove’s farewells. Then they were back to the intriguing world of arteries and tendons and bone marrow and diseases.

Once outside the surgery, Groves leaned back against the bulkhead and mopped his forehead. “James,” he said weakly. “I am a relatively strong man, am I not?”

“Theodore,” Norrington grinned, “I believe I can safely say that of you without fear of contradiction.”

“Then why,” the lieutenant lamented, “are my knees weak and my stomach revolting at what clearly does nothing but amuse that pestilential child?”

The commodore shrugged. “I have no idea, but I admit to a strong dislike for such procedures, myself. Apparently pirates grow them tougher than civilization does.”

“Mark my words,” said Groves grimly. “When that imp recovers, we are going to discover that half a pirate with half a leg is too much pirate for this entire ship.”

“Do you really think he’s going to wait until he recovers?” Norrington asked dubiously.

He should have known better than to make such a prophecy.

* * * * *

TBC
22 Between the Fell Incensed Points of Mighty Opposites

Comments

[gott1172.livejournal.com]

I literally exclaimed out loud when I saw you had posted another chapter. I am beginning to sound like a broken record, but once again you have out done yourself. I love the interaction between Jip and Groves.

I remember seeing a re-enactment of a civil war amputation when I was a young teenager. It still haunts me twenty years later. If the ones taking place during the mid 1800's were so bad, I can only imagine what the amputations 100 years earlier were like!

[honorat.livejournal.com]

What a lovely thing to say. It's wonderful to hear you look forward to these. I'm glad my little OC Jip meeting my favourite Naval officer Groves was entertaining.

I have to see that reading the research for this chapter provided some pretty unforgettable images. I did come across some US civil war information, which was gruesome enough even with chloroform available, but the earlier accounts--urgh! If one was an officer rum might take the edge off, but the ordinary citizen faced it stone cold sober. Modern medicine is one reason I wouldn't want to have been born a day earlier in history!

[outinthestorm.livejournal.com]

*is now too squeamish to go to lunch*

Excellent chapter, but... urg.

My favourite line would have to be “When that imp recovers, we are going to discover that half a pirate with half a leg is too much pirate for this entire ship.” Hee!

[honorat.livejournal.com]

is now too squeamish to go to lunch
I edited this while eating lunch. Now that was an interesting sensation!

I'm glad you enjoyed this chapter in an "Urgh" sort of way :D

Groves definitely has something in that last line of his. I tried to put in a few laughs in all the gore.

Thank you so much for commenting.

[lunatic-hero.livejournal.com]

Totally splendiferous...as usual. Your eye for going into detail without adding useless things is remarkable, and I admire your use of texture and substance, every object used by any character gives a feeling of meaning and purpose to the reader, every whittled gag, or plank of wood seems to hold its own soul.
Its beautiful.
I can't wait until the next chapter, ta for now.
Lunatic_hero

[honorat.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much for your kind words. I'm glad to know the obsessive detail is not superfluous. I try to picture this as an entire, inter-connected world with its own logic and specific flavours.

every object used by any character gives a feeling of meaning and purpose to the reader, every whittled gag, or plank of wood seems to hold its own soul.
That's a really lovely way to see it. When I was a kid, I used to try to take all my toys to bed so none of them would feel left out, but I had to apologize to the furniture--it just wouldn't fit! So things have always seemed to have their own perspective to me.

I'm thrilled to know you look forward to these.

[rezuri.livejournal.com]

... x_x

I'm such a squeamish person, but I managed to read the whole thing through because I wanted to know what happened next. I think I'm going to be sick now.

(Groves!!! Yay! I'm so glad he was there to hold Jip's hand).

[honorat.livejournal.com]

Wow! Getting through this on a squeamish stomach is an act of heroism in itself. I'm honoured you'd make the attempt.

I think I'm going to be sick now
It's a funny world when an author can take a comment like that as an indication that the job was done right. This was a very brutal chapter. I'm glad Groves was there for Jip, too.

Thank you so much for commenting in spite of sickness!

[justawench.livejournal.com]

Brave little Jip! I can't wait to see what trouble he causes. ;)

[honorat.livejournal.com]

I'm always tickled when people like my little OC. He's definitely a favourite of mine. Jip in trouble is truly an incredible thing. He's such fun to write. Thank you for commenting on this.

[wickedwitchy.livejournal.com]

Wow! I have to say even as a fan of medical mysteries with gory details of autopsy this chapter was still pretty cringe worthy. In the best way possible, of course.

Another fabulous chapter, can't wait for more as usual.

[honorat.livejournal.com]

I imagine that at least the victim of an autopsy is no longer experiencing any of the gory details. The virtue of an amputation is that everyone is fully conscious. It does increase the cringe factor. I'm glad you enjoyed the cringes as much as is possible! LOL.

Thank you so much for commenting. It makes me happy (and motivated) to know you look forward to more.

[rennie1265.livejournal.com]

Oh, good one! Love the detail and the interaction between the four. Groves is the right officer for Jip and Samuels is bang on the money to get the job done and satisfy the little varmint's curiosity. Liked the last three lines especially. Can't wait to find out what Jip does to the Dauntless and its crew. Somehow I believe Norrington's dubious statement at the end shows he's likely right to be suspicious of what mayhem Jack Sparrow's littlest pirate can wreak. Looking forward as always to the next part.

[honorat.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much for dropping by to comment. I'm so glad you enjoyed this rather specific look at a rather grusome fact of the era and the four characters who make their way through it with as much grace as they can muster. Groves is definitely sympathetic to Jip and has a fine sense of how to handle his rather prickly charge. And Samuels is rapidly becoming another of my favourite OCs. I can't wait to get to Jip's shenanigans on the Dauntless myself. It's those blank spaces in between that keep taking the time. Norrington is definitely having a true premonition :D I'm so glad you look forward to this.

[cassiopaya.livejournal.com]

This was awesome. ::GRIN::

[honorat.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much. It's a good sign that you're grinning after such a gory chapter!

[caedesdeo.livejournal.com]

Love. Love love love love love.

Even the icky bits.


yep, I'm as much a gore-hound as Jip, although I doubt I'd manage to go through that and then ask to see the stump.

[honorat.livejournal.com]

*bounce* Thank you, thank you. It's always good to find a reader with a strong stomach when one writes "icky bits". As for Jip wanting to examine his erstwhile foot, I was remembering how we used to collect and exhibit our removed tonsils back in elementary school. Kids have a high tolerence for disgustingness and are very curious about detached body parts!

[torn-eledhwen.livejournal.com]

I can feel a certain kinship with Jip. They wouldn't let me look at my leg when I broke it (open compound fracture, it was a mess and a half). Took me two weeks to persuade them to let me sit up and watch it being dressed! Luckily I didn't lose mine.

Anyway, another excellent chapter, well researched and beautifully (if graphically!) written.

[honorat.livejournal.com]

You have all my sympathy for having any fellow experiences with Jip at all! That leg sounds horribly painful. At least modern medicine can usually dodge the gangrene/amputation route for shattered bones now. I wonder why there is a sense that people shouldn't see their own mutilations? It is one's own body after all.

I'm glad you enjoyed this chapter in spite of its subject matter! I thought if Jip was going to lose his leg, he deserved the honour of a chapter. Thank you for your comments.

[sparrbecuecook.livejournal.com]

Great chapter.
Your diminutive pirate is a tough one. I guess I couldn't speak from either screaming or clenching my teeth, and I'd certainly not want to see that foot ever again.

favourite line:
Jip gave him a pitying look. “How do you find out anything?” he asked.
“We look at other people’s guts,” Samuels cut in acerbically. “Now drink your rum like a good pirate.”

[honorat.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much for commenting and telling me your favourite line. I'm glad you enjoyed this rather grusome chapter. Jip is definitely on the calloused side. I patterned his response on my father who had to have a finger amputated when he got it caught in gears at a sawmill when he was four. He turned his head to avoid the chloroform and watched the entire operation from under the cloth. Kids can be pretty curious and tough. It's the adults who fall to pieces!

wow.

[redcirce]

I'm finally caught up on all the chapters and I want to comment again, because, although I've never been good at concrit or feedback in general, I want to somehow try to express how fantastic this story is! You've created this nail-bitingly gripping, well fleshed out and characterized story that would have fallen apart (child pirates touching but not sappy, intelligently done UST) in the hands of a lesser writer.
And I absolutely love it when stories feature Anamaria as a main character (which they do very rarely). Although I don't dislike her-and I mean this as no offense to those that love her- Elizabeth, to me isn't all that interesting as a character. She's sort of the perfect fantasy, a highborn, rich, gorgeous woman who also happens to be a fantastic pirate with knowledge of the sea and swordfighting who happens to have Will, Jack, And Norrington all canonically interested in her. Fun for the movies, but not someone I'm particularly interested in reading about. Anamaria, despite her short screentime, still fascinates me for several reasons- she's a female pirate, for crying out loud (and black!), and not a scantily dressed, flowing hair waving in the wind pirate- she's a down and dirty as the men, stubborn woman who's not afraid to stand up to Captain Sparrow and yet seems to be able to forgive him even though he stole her ship. Anyway.
You've turned Ana into a living, breathing complex person. I love how the crew is absolutely terrified of her (loved Duncan's reaction when he woke up) yet deeply respect her, and how seriously she takes her duties as a first mate, her relationship with the Pearl, and how despite all her toughness, she's more easily able to take a needle through her flesh than a compliment. And the relationship between Jack and Ana, the first mate and the captain, is a joy to watch. Ana's a great lens through which to see Jack, but them together is wonderful in and of itself. The banter, the way they play off each other, in front of the crew and in private, is fascinating. I really like how you've carefully constructed this relationship and the trust between two very different (yet oddly well suited) characters. The sexual tension just adds another layer. (And let me just say if you ever decide to veer off of canon and write some AU Jack/Ana, I'm so, so there...)
Your Jack, also, is wonderfully written. Much of the time he is written as an utter buffoon, a dashing romantic lead, or nigh invincible. Your Jack is none of these and also manages to capture that elusive Jack "spark". You manage to make him touchingly human (him and Jip, him stitching the sampler on Anamaria) yet still have that mystery that makes his survival and daft plans seem touched by magic or the gods. Love how you use nautical terminology to describe him, love all the slight shifts in masks depending on who he's dealing with, and what role he's playing. His relationship with the Pearl is beautiful- the Pearl is it's own character in your hands, to the point where I started to wince at every landed shot.
And you do a wonderful job with the other characters as well. Gibbs is another favorite of mine, and you've got his voice down perfectly. All of your OCs are so well drawn I forget they're not canon. Love the infamous Jip (who manages to be utterly charming despite how annoying random cutesy children in fanfic can be, the descriptions of Tearlach picking up Anamaria, and Duncan and Jack bantering over age.

errr.... part II

[redcirce]

This is getting long, and I'm just repeating myself ("I love this! I love this too!") so let me try to get to a point. As I've noted above, your characterizations are lovely. You have a good sense of rhythm of plot and building tension while also allowing for breaks that are so insightful (Anamaria needs to pee, Jip wants to watch his leg amputated- most writers would have faded to black, {not just for subject matter} you managed to take these situations and mine them for character development!) that you don't even mind it doesn't further the main plot. The UST is incredibly sexy, the humor and dialogue is spot on, I love all the attention to detail and your wonderful descriptive passages, and I'm impressed at how much research you've obviously put into this thing (nothing pulls you out of a story as quickly as realizing the author has no idea what they're talking about) I've learned a lot about ships from reading In short, this is one of the best fics I've read, especially in the POTC world. I'm looking forward to reading your other fics, and continuing to follow this one.

[hendercats.livejournal.com]

tying the smooth lines of activity on a king's ship into knots of confusion all by his pint-sized, piratey self
Yay! But *whimper* the contrast from then to this moment. Poor Jip!

Oh, you are wonderful, for in rapid succession you have me loving Groves for his empathy ("Poor little chap," he exclaimed softly. "What have we done to you?"), and then cheering Jip for his amazing spirit and inventiveness ("you damned Navy bag-pudding!"). The whole flea exchange is completely squeeful. *g*

Norrington realized that his lieutenant was being weighed in some critical balance in that busy, feverish little head.
And since Groves is a personal favorite, it's so nice to see that he is not found wanting.

heartwarming exchange of vermin
Hee! After discussion about inspiration, am hearing Samuels speak with DeForest Kelley's voice. Dialog doesn't hurt the comparison. *g*

"I've seen it done before. Three times." Large, fevered eyes searched Samuels' face. "They all died," the boy added in a small voice.
That put a huge lump in my throat. He's an amazing little guy, and am hurting anew at the idea that he and Jack no longer have each other (and wishing that somehow Jack could know how well his small crewmember has done).

"Who is Anamaria?" Norrington asked curiously.
And of all the options running through Norrington's mind, first mate aboard the Pearl would likely not be one of the choices. *bounce* Also loved the reaction from both Jip and Samuels to this likely unintended fishing.

"Already hurts like hell," Jip said with pig-headed determination worthy of his mentor.
Excellent point. Yay for Jip's negotiating skills (and he didn't even need to resort to twisty Jackish logic!).

"Most of us have guts, but we prefer not to see 'em."
Jip gave him a pitying look. "How do you find out anything?" he asked.
"We look at other people's guts," Samuels cut in acerbically.
Wonderful exchange. Inspired. Had me squeeing and bouncing and clapping. Would hug them all for this delight, but they're rather busy.

Those are the tunnels the blood travels in.
Tunnels. *marvels* Man's a born teacher, isn't he?

Lieutenant Groves, the commodore noted, had shifted from holding the boy's arm to letting Jip clutch his hand.
For such a squicky chapter, this is full of wonderfulnesses. (have been in Groves' position - though in nowhere near as dire a situation- when a dermatologist removed a large brown, questionable birthmark from daughter's thigh, and know just what his hand [and his knees] felt like)

Noises ... sawing and filing ... ugh. Awful noises, and thank you for making sure they were here to increase the realism.

"Can I see my leg you cut off?"
Yay, Jip! Cheers for resiliency! (seem to be doing a lot of cheering about this chapter, don't I?) Child after my own heart - I have my rib that was removed when I was 13.

caught up in their grinding mill of law and lawlessness
Oooh!

"Do you really think he's going to wait until he recovers?" Norrington asked dubiously.
Yes!! And the final line! *greedily looks for next chapter*

[honorat.livejournal.com]

Whoohoo! More comments! *pounce*

But *whimper* the contrast from then to this moment. Poor Jip!
The muse is a big meany, I’m afraid. But Jip is pretty good at spitting in its eye.

in rapid succession you have me loving Groves for his empathy and then cheering Jip for his amazing spirit and inventiveness. The whole flea exchange is completely squeeful.
*bounce* Isn’t Groves a love? And after I wrote out the amputation scene, I decided that Jip just didn’t suit the “pathetic hurt child” role. He had to stay his annoying little prosaic self. So I went back and got him talking, and as usual, he ran away with things. I’m glad you enjoyed the fleas.

since Groves is a personal favorite, it's so nice to see that he is not found wanting.
Groves is a favourite of mine. As Norrington realized, this connection was really inevitable.

am hearing Samuels speak with DeForest Kelley's voice. Dialog doesn't hurt the comparison.
He’s a doctor, not an exterminator :D Samuels doesn’t look like McCoy in my head, but he’s got the attitude. It’s good to know the dialogue is worthy of the comparison.

That put a huge lump in my throat. He's an amazing little guy, and am hurting anew at the idea that he and Jack no longer have each other (and wishing that somehow Jack could know how well his small crewmember has done).
Amputations were pretty deadly procedures back then, made necessary by the even more deadly threat of gangrene. Jip is one tough kid, but he does have to be missing home and friends. I hated to separate him from Jack, but it had to happen.

And of all the options running through Norrington's mind, first mate aboard the Pearl would likely not be one of the choices. Also loved the reaction from both Jip and Samuels to this likely unintended fishing.
Yes, first mate is not even an option as far as Norrington is concerned. And the poor commodore can’t even be curious now without coming under suspicion of tyranny.

Yay for Jip's negotiating skills (and he didn't even need to resort to twisty Jackish logic!).
Jip is a bit more straightforward than the convoluted Sparrow.

Wonderful exchange. Inspired. Had me squeeing and bouncing and clapping. Would hug them all for this delight, but they're rather busy.
Your comments have me squeeing and bouncing. I’m so glad you enjoyed the dialogue. I might add that if you hug them, don’t blame me for the fleas.

Tunnels. *marvels* Man's a born teacher, isn't he?
Like a lot of enthusiasts, Samuels likes to talk about what interests him, and he understands Jip’s curiousity.

For such a squicky chapter, this is full of wonderfulnesses. (have been in Groves' position - though in nowhere near as dire a situation-when a dermatologist removed a large brown, questionable birthmark from daughter's thigh, and know just what his hand [and his knees] felt like)
I tried to make the payoff worth the nausea! I can get overdosed on angst if there isn’t some warmth and humour. I think it is harder to watch someone else hurting and scared that to endure it yourself. I’ve never had my stomach complain about my own injuries. This would be why I did not enter the medical profession! I hope everything turned out well for your daughter.

Awful noises, and thank you for making sure they were here to increase the realism.
The knee-jerk reaction to write sensory imagery hasn’t worn off. I can hear it in my head, so you get to as well. Enjoy.

Yay, Jip! Cheers for resiliency! (seem to be doing a lot of cheering about this chapter, don't I?) Child after my own heart - I have my rib that was removed when I was 13.
I can’t even imagine under what circumstances a rib would have to be removed. Were they trying to make the perfect mate for you? Whatever, it sounds painful. But having your own rib in your collection is pretty cool. You and Jip would get along.

And the final line! *greedily looks for next chapter*
:D Alas, the next chapter returns us to the Pearl and the Defender. But eventually you will see whether Norrington is right.

Thank you so much for such a delightful comment. I have been reading it through many more times than is good for my ego during these first few days of classes!

[needfire.livejournal.com]

I have only recently come to this fandom, but I can say this is one of the best pieces of writing I have read in any venue. Thank you so much. I am in love with every aspect, the characters are real enough to almost be standing at my side as I read and that includes the ships. The relationship between Jack and his crew a thing of beauty, but the relationship between him and the Pearl is extraordinary. You blessed us with this work.

[honorat.livejournal.com]

Welcome to the madness :D Thank you so much for taking the time to comment on my not-so-little-anymore story. I'm so glad you're enjoying the characters and their relationships. I've always thought of the PotC ships as characters. Jack with his Black Pearl is definitely one of my favourite things to write about. It's good to know others love them too.

[choose2live.livejournal.com]

It's 3am and I'm finally caught up. That was perfectly horrifying and yet Jip's curiosity is so amusing. Truly a young boy to his core, all fascinated with blood and gore, even his own!

Now I get to sit and wait for more parts... one day I'll learn not to read WIPs, darnit...

And I didn't say so before, but I just loved Jack and Anamaria's application of his kohl...

[honorat.livejournal.com]

Ouch! You have stayed up late--early? for this. The only thing that rescued this from bathos for me was Jip's attitude. I'm glad you enjoyed his refusal to be a tragic child martyr.

WIPs are a pain. I know. At least I've got vast bits of the rest of it written. It's just the linking chapters that slow things down. Right now I'm stuck in a link, but when that's done, it should flow a bit faster.

As for the kohl scene, I've seen variations of characters applying that substance before, but never historically accurately. The real method surprised me. I'm glad you liked it.

Thank you so much for wading through all this prose and for your kind comments.

[jamaican-rum.livejournal.com]

Well, I finally got around to catching up on all the chapters I missed! I'm really curious as to how you actually manage to write so well, France seems to have muse killing agents thrown into the water so I'm incapable of getting anywhere near this good!

-insert applause here- This chapter was just; squee! I have a strange appreciation for all things surgical, so it was great to see such a graphic and motivated bit of writing. So I guess you've done it again, got me thinking I'm still dreaming when I read these things. I really need to stop catching up first thing in the morning...

Kudos to you m'love. It's just...Wow.

[honorat.livejournal.com]

Thank you for such kind words. The water in Alberta, Canada is filled with natural gas and tastes like sulfur, but so far it hasn't killed the muse. Here's hoping your muse is merely sleepy and will wake up soon.

I'm glad to provide horrid surgical techniques to amuse you. Up until I got to this chapter, I didn't think I was going to write anything so detailed, but I can't resist detail.

I do appreciate hearing from you and I'm happy that you enjoyed this.

Fan Mail

[seripanther.livejournal.com]

Honorat, I only discovered this story a week or so ago, but I am now officially hanging on your every word. I am astounded by the quality of your fic in general, and this tale in particular is utterly gripping. The characterizations, the plotting, the atmosphere, the dialogue -- not least of all, the phenomenal amount of research that must have gone into this -- all are singularly and marvelously impressive. I give you my heartfelt congratulations and will be checking regularly for the next chapter.

Re: Fan Mail

[honorat.livejournal.com]

I'm delighted to meet you. It's fun to discover someone has been reading and enjoying my stories. Since this is my first foray into creating an original plot, I'm happy with how successful it seems to be. Now if I can just get it finished! Thank you so much for commenting on this. Updates are slowly in progress. School does take up a frightful amount of time.

Oh please update!

[(Anonymous)]

I've read this story over and over! It's my absolute favorite piratey fic, but you've gone and left us all on the worst cliffhanger! You are probably extremely busy, being a teacher and all, but could you give us just a wee little chapter? Because I am going mad wondering what will happen to Jack and Anamaria, and whether the plan will work, and what Norry will do, and all of it! Please please please update.

-crunchycheezit (from fanfiction.net)

Re: Oh please update!

[honorat.livejournal.com]

I am strolling through my journal archives making sure I respond to everyone who was kind enough to comment. I know in the last couple of years, my life has been so crazy that I’ve missed a lot. My apologies.

Thank you for your kind words. The next chapter will soon be up.

[rezuri.livejournal.com]

So... um.....

...any word on when the next installment is coming out? :)

[honorat.livejournal.com]

I am strolling through my journal archives making sure I respond to everyone who was kind enough to comment. I know in the last couple of years, my life has been so crazy that I’ve missed a lot. My apologies.

I'm glad you've enjoyed this so far. The next chapter is being posted by the end of this week.

shamefull pleading

[(Anonymous)]

Hello I know you must be busy, but I have to ask if we are going to see more of this story. I just love it. Please Please can we have some more... thanks

[asecretkept.livejournal.com]

I used to follow this story quite a lot, but then I stopped read fanfic for a while. But now that I'm back, I still don't see any new installments...is that just me? Please continue this! You write the characters so well.

[honorat.livejournal.com]

I am strolling through my journal archives making sure I respond to everyone who was kind enough to comment. I know in the last couple of years, my life has been so crazy that I’ve missed a lot. My apologies.

Thank you for your kind words. The next chapter will be up this week.

[tygrestick.livejournal.com]

Hi! I've been following this story ever since you started writing it. I always have trouble finding the right words for reviews, but I absolutely love your characterizations and your description is great. I hope you're planning to continue- I can't wait to know what happens next.

[honorat.livejournal.com]

I am strolling through my journal archives making sure I respond to everyone who was kind enough to comment. I know in the last couple of years, my life has been so crazy that I’ve missed a lot. My apologies.

I'm so glad you've been enjoying this. Thank you for your kind words. I do plan to complete this eventually, but lately it's been at the rate of one chapter per year.

[virgo-79.livejournal.com]

My apologies on inexcusable tardiness in replying to this chapter, Honorat. I'm not sure what waylaid me at the time, but the situation wants correcting.

Ohh, girlie. This is nasty, nasty business. Bad enough what the captain, first mate, and crew of the Black Pearl have been subjected to, but to do this to poor little Jip...and yet somehow, when it's all said and done, I can picture him being a foul-mouthed, peg-legged pirate surgeon when he grows up. (If he grows up, you sadist, you.)

Samuels continues to thrill me in this chapter, and Groves is a darling. Fleas. Hee!

“I am not a poor little chap, you damned Navy bag-pudding!” Jip objected strenuously.

I have not a clue what a bag-pudding is, but it sounds perfect coming out of this particular little mouth.

“I’ve seen it done before. Three times.” Large, fevered eyes searched Samuels’ face. “They all died,” the boy added in a small voice.

Poor little honey. Part of him has had to grow up way too fast, but only part, and the rest has a lot to contend with.

The doctor smiled. “As long as you’ve not been drinking and whoring and carousing much lately?”

:D

“But I want to watch what you’re doing,” Jip decided.

Norrington and Groves exchanged incredulous glances. Samuels looked stunned for a moment.

Plucky little beetle, isn't he? Why do I think that despite the pain, had the phrase "Cool!" been in usage at the time, it would have been the first thing out of Jip's mouth after "Owie."

Samuels worked with his usual swift sureness, making the incision through the muscle, down to bone, first from above, then from below, leaving a flap of skin on the inside of the boy’s leg. “That’s to cover the stump when I close you back up,” he informed Jip.

Speaking of owie. Jesus.

“Retractor,” he said to his assistant. Slipping the leather cuff around the incision, Samuels explained, “This will fit over the bone and pull back the muscle so I have room to saw.”

I don't even want to know where you did you homework for this bit.

Finally, however, the deadened and toxic limb was completely separated. Samuels let it drop, unnoticed to the blood-stained floor, making a dull thunk. With a flick of his wrist, he released the retractor and allowed the muscle to surround the bared bones.

That mental picture's not going anywhere for a while.

“Can I see my leg you cut off?”

Oh dear God.

While Bailey here dresses your wound with egg yolk, oil of roses and turpentine and puts on the lint and bandages

Okay, I'm still tripping from this chapter, but I have to know: whatt's the thought process behind these?

The two heads, one grizzled grey and the other gold, scarcely looked up from the object under scrutiny to acknowledge Norrington’s and Grove’s farewells. Then they were back to the intriguing world of arteries and tendons and bone marrow and diseases.

Oh, yeah, If Jip makes it out the other end of this tale, I have a definite prediction for his future vocation.

half a pirate with half a leg is too much pirate for this entire ship.”

Amen to that, Groves!

“Do you really think he’s going to wait until he recovers?” Norrington asked dubiously.

He should have known better than to make such a prophecy.

I don't even want to speculate on this, because as soon as I start to giggle you'll take it the other way and break my heart.

Jip may have just tied with JAck for possession of the most admirable spirit in this story, Honorat.

Good lord, what a chapter. And what a kid.

v.

[honorat.livejournal.com]

My apologies on inexcusable tardiness in replying to this chapter, Honorat. I'm not sure what waylaid me at the time, but the situation wants correcting.

In the contest for who is the most tardy, I think I win. In any case, all is forgiven. Your lovely comments are always worth the wait.

Ohh, girlie. This is nasty, nasty business. Bad enough what the captain, first mate, and crew of the Black Pearl have been subjected to, but to do this to poor little Jip...and yet somehow, when it's all said and done, I can picture him being a foul-mouthed, peg-legged pirate surgeon when he grows up. (If he grows up, you sadist, you.)

*insert maniacal laugh track from Sadistical Whirlybird Muse* Jip has certainly commandeered this story from the first and completely run away with it. I thought I was going to be finished after four chapters and then the little wretch showed up on the Dauntless with his leg shot up, and I was stuck writing an entire sea battle merely to explain what he was doing there. Pirate!

Samuels continues to thrill me in this chapter, and Groves is a darling. Fleas. Hee!

Awww! It always gives me warm fuzzies when people like my characters (even pirated ones). My cat regularly donated fleas to me when I was a kid, so I figure Jip has collected some.

I have not a clue what a bag-pudding is, but it sounds perfect coming out of this particular little mouth.

I don’t know either. Chalk it up to reading too much period fiction.

Poor little honey. Part of him has had to grow up way too fast, but only part, and the rest has a lot to contend with.

In the face of some things, we’re all just babes. He’s in a precarious position being the sole pirate on a firstrate Navy ship and being injured in the hands of enemies.

”The doctor smiled. “As long as you’ve not been drinking and whoring and carousing much lately?””

:D

You never know what those baby pirates might be up to! :D

Plucky little beetle, isn't he? Why do I think that despite the pain, had the phrase "Cool!" been in usage at the time, it would have been the first thing out of Jip's mouth after "Owie."

Yep! Jip is the quintessential incomprehensible male. It’s not so bad if you have a big injury/scar to show off. *sounds of chest-beating in distance*

I don't even want to know where you did you homework for this bit.

What? You don’t want to read Fanny Burney’s description of a mastectomy with NO pain killer? Or civil war amputations? The creator of THAT mermaid is getting squeamish?

That mental picture's not going anywhere for a while.

Is it in full colour? Bwahahahaha!

Okay, I'm still tripping from this chapter, but I have to know: whatt's the thought process behind these?

Don’t ask me! I just found it in an old medical manual. At least they skipped the goat dung!

Oh, yeah, If Jip makes it out the other end of this tale, I have a definite prediction for his future vocation.

We’ll see if you prove to have the gift of prophecy.

”half a pirate with half a leg is too much pirate for this entire ship.”

Amen to that, Groves!

Oh yes!

I don't even want to speculate on this, because as soon as I start to giggle you'll take it the other way and break my heart.

Now when have I done more than just wring your heart out and hang it up to dry? Honestly!

Jip may have just tied with JAck for possession of the most admirable spirit in this story, Honorat. Good lord, what a chapter. And what a kid.

I’m rather fond of him myself. Duck Jip!

And I’m delighted to hear from you. Thank you so much. The muse is preening and smelling vaguely of chocolate.