Fic: Marooned Ch. 5: A Perilous Truce
Jul. 12th, 2005 07:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
honoratBy Honorat Selonnet
Fifth in my Island Fic plus deleted scenes. The end of the deleted scenes. From here on be dragons. The movie with these scenes does not explain when Elizabeth gets the idea to burn the rum. So, you’ll be getting my version. If you want to skip the part of this fic where Jack and Elizabeth run about in my imagination with no movie help to keep them in line, go straight to the chapter called Playing with Fire (it’s not up yet, but it will be). Or come along for a rather extensive ride. Jack and Elizabeth on an Island. The possibilities are endlessly amusing. Let me know what you think of my addition to this scene.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Canon
Cast: Jack and Elizabeth
Disclaimer: I only own a car that has one working door (not the driver’s side); if I owned these characters, I could afford a better car.
* * * * *
Staring down at the tall glass bottle bobbing in the shallow waves, Elizabeth wondered if Jack Sparrow was right—if there was nothing she could do for Will. She leaned down and picked up the bottle, contemplating its cloudy, sloshing liquid. The sun relentlessly drummed on her shoulders. Salty, unpotable water swirled around her ankles. Thirst desiccated her tongue. Elizabeth gave up. Will was doomed to die on Isla de Muerta as a sacrifice for a shipfull of cursed pirates;.she was doomed to die in a drunken stupor on a desert island with a vile and insane pirate. She might as well get started.
Elizabeth uncorked the bottle. Trudging over to Sparrow, she slumped to the ground beside him. This then was the grand pirate adventure she had always dreamed of. Staring at the bottle, she sighed. Well the song got this part right anyway. “Drink up me hearties, yo ho!” she whispered, raising the bottle for her first taste of rum. The fiery liquid bit at her throat and assaulted the inside of her head like an explosion. She grimaced, her eyes watering.
Jack suddenly frowned and turned to her. “What was that, Elizabeth?”
“It’s Miss Swann,” Elizabeth insisted irritably, scowling at her bottle.
Jack raised his eyebrows, held up his hand in a warding gesture and turned away. Best just leave the girl alone while she sorted out whatever was eating her. He ran his hand over his moustache and raised his bottle. He had some drinking to catch up on.
Elizabeth wondered what she really did want. She hadn’t been able to get Will to call her Elizabeth and she couldn’t get Jack Sparrow to stop it. What did her name mean to her? She only knew that alone on this island with this strange dangerous pirate, she felt out of control as she had never felt before. And the rules that had chafed her in her safe home, she clung to now as if they would prevent anything terrible from happening. But Captain Sparrow was acting as though she had insulted him, rejected some overture of friendship she hadn’t been aware he’d made. With effort, she tried to relax. Just have a conversation with this man. After all she’d be stuck here with him for a long time. A panicked voice in the back of her mind gibbered that it might be forever.
Taking a deep breath, she answered his question. “It’s nothing. Just a song I learnt as a child when I actually thought it would be exciting to meet a pirate.” She didn’t quite succeed at keeping the bitterness out of her voice.
Jack, ignoring the implied insult, looked interested. “Let’s hear it.” Something to pass the time while he got drunk enough not to think too hard sounded good. Besides he liked singing. Couldn’t do it, of course. His crews usually threatened to mutiny if . . . best not go there.
Elizabeth was not feeling cooperative. They were marooned. Will was gone. And this bloody pirate wanted her to sing a children’s game song? “No.”
“Come on, we’ve got the time,” Jack snapped impatiently. “Let’s have it.”
His scowl reminded Elizabeth that this man was perhaps not the safest one to antagonize, but she was not in the mood to be intimidated. “ No!” Her response was even more emphatic.
Obviously something was going on with Miss Swann. Jack kept watching her silently. The girl stared unhappily at the bottle of rum in her hands. Finally she sighed, “I’d have to have a lot more to drink.”
Jack contemplated the ramifications of a drunken Elizabeth. He eyed the way her slim fingers played with the neck of the bottle. The corner of his mouth quirked a little. He raised his own bottle towards her, his seductive tone no longer implying a desire to learn a children’s song. “How much more?”
Elizabeth frowned uneasily at his disturbing grin. Jack tilted his bottle and drank deeply. Feeling suddenly vulnerable, Elizabeth edged a little farther away from the pirate. Her bottle of rum seemed a safer subject to focus on than Jack Sparrow. She supposed the heavy glass object might be useful as a weapon.
Jack followed her speculative gaze. “I’d suggest you break the bottom off on a tree,” he offered.
“What?” She looked up, startled.
“If you’re looking to make a weapon,” he explained helpfully, “a broken bottle is a far more serious threat.” He pantomimed bashing someone with a bottle, then took another swig of rum.
Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief.
“That is if you’re planning on defending your somewhat problematic virtue from my dastardly advances.” Jack frowned thoughtfully, setting one finger on his chin and looking sideways at her. “Though what the point of that would be, I’m not sure.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Elizabeth spoke defensively.
“Oh, I think you do, love,” Jack smirked.
“Don’t call me love,” she snapped. “It’s Miss Swann.”
“Well, Miss Swann,” he complied amiably, “you’ve been a guest on the Black Pearl for over a week. Do you really think any of those high-toned and fancy inhabitants of Port Royal, not to mention any of the seedier ones, is going to believe those poor bastards were incapable of taking advantage of that little situation?” He leered at her.
Elizabeth reflected that Sparrow was right; she really didn’t have a reputation any more. She had known of women who had been ruined for being caught in far less damning circumstances. And what that had to do with anything when it looked like she might never return to Port Royal was another question. What’s more, she very much doubted that Jack Sparrow was in the category of being incapable of taking advantage.
Jack watched the thoughts flicker across the girl’s face with amusement. “Y’know, lass, life’s a lot more fun if you’ve really done the things they hang you for.”
“Perhaps I really should break this bottle,” she said reflectively, raising it.
“Don’t waste the rum, love,” was Sparrow’s only comment. “You can break it after it’s empty. But as long as you still want to use it, you won’t be needing to.” And he returned to systematically emptying his own bottle.
Elizabeth stared at him wonderingly. “I hardly expect chivalry from a pirate,” she said archly.
Jack looked up. “You’re the one who’s read all the stories, Miss Swann. I very much doubt any of them mentions that ravishing unwilling virgins is one of the pastimes of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.”
“No,” she glanced censoriously at the pirate, “but a number of ravishable virgins seem to throw themselves at him.”
“Ah, well,” he looked pleased, “that’s another matter, isn’t it?” Nodding at her bottle, he suggested, “Have some more rum, love.”
So. The line was drawn here. He would seduce her if he could, but he wouldn’t force her. She wondered why that did not entirely comfort her. Looking at the rum in her hand, the only drinkable liquid on the island, she imagined that Jack Sparrow’s definition of willing consent did not include her being of sound mind. Since his own mind seemed manifestly unsound half the time, he probably didn’t consider it a flaw. How much rum could the pirate’s principles survive? How much could her own?
TBC
6 Crab Racing
Fifth in my Island Fic plus deleted scenes. The end of the deleted scenes. From here on be dragons. The movie with these scenes does not explain when Elizabeth gets the idea to burn the rum. So, you’ll be getting my version. If you want to skip the part of this fic where Jack and Elizabeth run about in my imagination with no movie help to keep them in line, go straight to the chapter called Playing with Fire (it’s not up yet, but it will be). Or come along for a rather extensive ride. Jack and Elizabeth on an Island. The possibilities are endlessly amusing. Let me know what you think of my addition to this scene.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Canon
Cast: Jack and Elizabeth
Disclaimer: I only own a car that has one working door (not the driver’s side); if I owned these characters, I could afford a better car.
* * * * *
Staring down at the tall glass bottle bobbing in the shallow waves, Elizabeth wondered if Jack Sparrow was right—if there was nothing she could do for Will. She leaned down and picked up the bottle, contemplating its cloudy, sloshing liquid. The sun relentlessly drummed on her shoulders. Salty, unpotable water swirled around her ankles. Thirst desiccated her tongue. Elizabeth gave up. Will was doomed to die on Isla de Muerta as a sacrifice for a shipfull of cursed pirates;.she was doomed to die in a drunken stupor on a desert island with a vile and insane pirate. She might as well get started.
Elizabeth uncorked the bottle. Trudging over to Sparrow, she slumped to the ground beside him. This then was the grand pirate adventure she had always dreamed of. Staring at the bottle, she sighed. Well the song got this part right anyway. “Drink up me hearties, yo ho!” she whispered, raising the bottle for her first taste of rum. The fiery liquid bit at her throat and assaulted the inside of her head like an explosion. She grimaced, her eyes watering.
Jack suddenly frowned and turned to her. “What was that, Elizabeth?”
“It’s Miss Swann,” Elizabeth insisted irritably, scowling at her bottle.
Jack raised his eyebrows, held up his hand in a warding gesture and turned away. Best just leave the girl alone while she sorted out whatever was eating her. He ran his hand over his moustache and raised his bottle. He had some drinking to catch up on.
Elizabeth wondered what she really did want. She hadn’t been able to get Will to call her Elizabeth and she couldn’t get Jack Sparrow to stop it. What did her name mean to her? She only knew that alone on this island with this strange dangerous pirate, she felt out of control as she had never felt before. And the rules that had chafed her in her safe home, she clung to now as if they would prevent anything terrible from happening. But Captain Sparrow was acting as though she had insulted him, rejected some overture of friendship she hadn’t been aware he’d made. With effort, she tried to relax. Just have a conversation with this man. After all she’d be stuck here with him for a long time. A panicked voice in the back of her mind gibbered that it might be forever.
Taking a deep breath, she answered his question. “It’s nothing. Just a song I learnt as a child when I actually thought it would be exciting to meet a pirate.” She didn’t quite succeed at keeping the bitterness out of her voice.
Jack, ignoring the implied insult, looked interested. “Let’s hear it.” Something to pass the time while he got drunk enough not to think too hard sounded good. Besides he liked singing. Couldn’t do it, of course. His crews usually threatened to mutiny if . . . best not go there.
Elizabeth was not feeling cooperative. They were marooned. Will was gone. And this bloody pirate wanted her to sing a children’s game song? “No.”
“Come on, we’ve got the time,” Jack snapped impatiently. “Let’s have it.”
His scowl reminded Elizabeth that this man was perhaps not the safest one to antagonize, but she was not in the mood to be intimidated. “ No!” Her response was even more emphatic.
Obviously something was going on with Miss Swann. Jack kept watching her silently. The girl stared unhappily at the bottle of rum in her hands. Finally she sighed, “I’d have to have a lot more to drink.”
Jack contemplated the ramifications of a drunken Elizabeth. He eyed the way her slim fingers played with the neck of the bottle. The corner of his mouth quirked a little. He raised his own bottle towards her, his seductive tone no longer implying a desire to learn a children’s song. “How much more?”
Elizabeth frowned uneasily at his disturbing grin. Jack tilted his bottle and drank deeply. Feeling suddenly vulnerable, Elizabeth edged a little farther away from the pirate. Her bottle of rum seemed a safer subject to focus on than Jack Sparrow. She supposed the heavy glass object might be useful as a weapon.
Jack followed her speculative gaze. “I’d suggest you break the bottom off on a tree,” he offered.
“What?” She looked up, startled.
“If you’re looking to make a weapon,” he explained helpfully, “a broken bottle is a far more serious threat.” He pantomimed bashing someone with a bottle, then took another swig of rum.
Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief.
“That is if you’re planning on defending your somewhat problematic virtue from my dastardly advances.” Jack frowned thoughtfully, setting one finger on his chin and looking sideways at her. “Though what the point of that would be, I’m not sure.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Elizabeth spoke defensively.
“Oh, I think you do, love,” Jack smirked.
“Don’t call me love,” she snapped. “It’s Miss Swann.”
“Well, Miss Swann,” he complied amiably, “you’ve been a guest on the Black Pearl for over a week. Do you really think any of those high-toned and fancy inhabitants of Port Royal, not to mention any of the seedier ones, is going to believe those poor bastards were incapable of taking advantage of that little situation?” He leered at her.
Elizabeth reflected that Sparrow was right; she really didn’t have a reputation any more. She had known of women who had been ruined for being caught in far less damning circumstances. And what that had to do with anything when it looked like she might never return to Port Royal was another question. What’s more, she very much doubted that Jack Sparrow was in the category of being incapable of taking advantage.
Jack watched the thoughts flicker across the girl’s face with amusement. “Y’know, lass, life’s a lot more fun if you’ve really done the things they hang you for.”
“Perhaps I really should break this bottle,” she said reflectively, raising it.
“Don’t waste the rum, love,” was Sparrow’s only comment. “You can break it after it’s empty. But as long as you still want to use it, you won’t be needing to.” And he returned to systematically emptying his own bottle.
Elizabeth stared at him wonderingly. “I hardly expect chivalry from a pirate,” she said archly.
Jack looked up. “You’re the one who’s read all the stories, Miss Swann. I very much doubt any of them mentions that ravishing unwilling virgins is one of the pastimes of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.”
“No,” she glanced censoriously at the pirate, “but a number of ravishable virgins seem to throw themselves at him.”
“Ah, well,” he looked pleased, “that’s another matter, isn’t it?” Nodding at her bottle, he suggested, “Have some more rum, love.”
So. The line was drawn here. He would seduce her if he could, but he wouldn’t force her. She wondered why that did not entirely comfort her. Looking at the rum in her hand, the only drinkable liquid on the island, she imagined that Jack Sparrow’s definition of willing consent did not include her being of sound mind. Since his own mind seemed manifestly unsound half the time, he probably didn’t consider it a flaw. How much rum could the pirate’s principles survive? How much could her own?
TBC
6 Crab Racing
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no subject
Date: 2006-08-02 11:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-02 11:39 pm (UTC)Thank you for letting me know you like my Elizabeth. I was not trying to write anti-canon fanfic here. I was trying to novelize the movie. And this was how I saw Elizabeth in the movie--in love with Will, but intrigued by Jack. I try to write her as girl who pushes at the boundaries of an 18th century life, but not one who pushes at the boundaries of a 21st century life. Since I love exploring the motivations and psychology behind the action and dialogue on the screen, I try to make everyone human. I am currently in the process of humanizing the Pelagostos Tribe from DMC!
Thank you again for commenting and for the lovely things you say.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-03 04:41 am (UTC)...humanizing the Pelagostos? That might be interesting, and perhaps redeeming.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-04 05:15 pm (UTC)Just Between Us Dying Gods (http://honorat.livejournal.com/45998.html)
and
The Coming of the Comforter (http://honorat.livejournal.com/46177.html)