English Rose

By: Kimmy-Sama

The overcast night made for a hard sea to navigate upon, it was harsh and cold. A hurricane had been there not two hours before the Flying Dutchman resurfaced to the wind and vicious rain that seemed to cut at your skin as it fell. As the sails were tossed and beaten by the hands of the wind, Davy Jones emerged from his Captain's quarters to start the orders for all to hear. It was only because the Captain felt that a shipwreck was not far off that he even considered coming to the top of the sea during such a storm; it was the only reason he liked storms.

The ship rocked hard from side to side, the crew trying their best not to be flung off the ship. Davy walked with ease towards the stern, heading up the ladder to find the helmsman. This man being none other then Bill Turner, who looked weary and tired from holding the wheel.

"Captain, which way?" He shouted over the oncoming thunder.

"We need to be windward, Mr. Turner. Head that direction and we will be upon the wreck in less then a hour." Davy spun as Bill Turner turned the wheel as hard as he could towards the direction the Captain gave him.

Davy walked to the railing facing the deck, and held on as the ship was rocked with another wave.

An hour later...

The clouds were vanishing into the horizon and the Flying Dutchman came upon a ship, a vessel much smaller then their own, on the starboard side. Quickly an anchor fell into the water and the crew boarded to find any survivors. Davy was just walking out of his cabin once again, pipe in hand, when a member of his crew came up to him.

"Sir, we can't find any souls left. We were late this time."

Davy shook his head as he looked off to the main mast of the wrecked ship. "Aye then. I shall at least look around."

In a second the Captain was there, walking around the deck of the sinking ship. His peg leg made a louder thump then usual, the ground beneath him starting to give way. His crew was about and around, looking for anything to scrap and take onto their ship. Davy was more concerned that the cabin below the rear of the ship was unopened and un touched.

He made his way towards it, putting his pipe to his mouth to enjoy the fresh tobacco inside. He opened the door of the cabin with a force that caused the door to slam on the wall behind it, and the Captain almost jumped as he heard a scream. Not loud, not long, but audible enough for Davy to realize that there was someone inside here.

A smirk came across his face as he limped inside, looking about the water soaked room. He could tell the people who owned this ship were wealthy with its silk chairs and gold candle holders. He looked around until he turned towards the bed, tossed to the corner of the room blocking the corner. He stepped towards it and heard the familiar gasp of horror as he got closer.

He placed his hand upon the mattress and tossed it back, to reveal the person underneath. "You shouldn't hide! Its not-"

Davy Jones stopped in his tracks. Before him lay a lady, no older then eighteen, curled in a ball in her soaked lavender dress and crying into her fists. Her hair, grew to the middle of her back in waves that matched the sea. It was dark in the room, but Davy could tell it was the color most associated with land. He stood still for several moments, until he took the pipe from his mouth and dumped it in the rising water. The girl didn't move, except to shutter from the cold and shock of a shipwreck.

Davy was about to speak until someone behind him did so for him.

"Hey! Look in here! The Captain's found someone!"

Davy watched the girl as a few crew members came in and started talking excitedly about how there was still a soul left. One came over and grabbed her arm, forcing her up to everyone's eye level. "Look! It's a sheila!"

Most laughed and sneered, others indeed had perverted thoughts in their words. As the one who held her grabbed her dress, she screamed and tried to kick him hard, with no avail. "Well now, ain't she the little devil? What shall we do boys?" He reached for the front of her dress.

"Stop!" Davy stepped forward, and grabbed the crewman's arm. "Ye shall not touch her!"

Everyone stopped in their words, looking at the Captain in surprise. The water was coming up fast now, Davy could feel it above his knees. "I'll take her and do as I want with her."

The crew started sniveling and laughing at this. The girl, not crying anymore and looking towards Davy with a new look of anger, kicked again as Davy gripped her with his hand. "Now off the ship! We got what we needed!"

Within minutes everyone was back on the Flying Dutchman, the girl attached to Davy's side. They both stood by to watch the shipwreck disappear in the dark water. She started to shake lightly once more as Davy tugged her towards his cabin, ignoring the calls and clatter it caused the men to do.

"Westward bound, keep above the water!" He called to his first mate, who nodded to pass the orders along.

Davy stepped into his quarters and pulled the soaked girl in as well. She was obviously not cooperating with anything and pushed and pulled away from his hand as much as she could. After the door was closed and locked, he let go, and she stumbled backwards towards the middle of the room. Immediately she backed herself against the wall and glared at him with her fierce cerulean eyes, a color that reminded him of his beloved sea during a storm.

The captain stood there quiet for a moment. "Quit yer shaking, I'm not going to harm ya."

The girl didn't move, she simply glared from under her hair and pulled her legs up to her chest as she sank to the floor. Davy noticed just now how young she must be. Her form was delicate and slender and it seemed very athletic. Yet she was gazing at him with such eyes, something that he had never even seen in most men as they face death itself.

"What be your name lass?"

She still did not answer.

"I said, what be your name?" He stepped forward harshly, as if to frighten her.

But her gaze stayed harsh.

"Fine then, if ya want to be such a troublesome girl then maybe I'll throw you back out there, among my crew?"Taking the step back, he walked towards a chest near his organ. In the corner of his eye he saw her gaze break from him and turn towards the locked door. This almost made him smirk.

He bent down and opened the chest, pulling out a blanket that was not very soft, but dry. He turned back to her and headed in her direction, her eyes once again on his. "Well then?" He stopped a few feet from her and held up the blanket.

Her mouth opened and Davy could almost hear the aristocrat in her voice. "Rosalyn Puckett."

"Dry off, Miss. Puckett. Yeh can rest there if ye want, or there is a bed on the far side of the room."

She looked towards the bed, then glared back at Davy.

"Don't be thinking such a thing. I told ye, I won't harm ya."

With that, Davy turned and walked out the way they came in, shutting and locking the door behind him.