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You Can't Always Get What You Want
By Deep Roller
A/N: With the high seas swarming with Pirate Sues, what's a girl to do but try her darndest? Oh, and pardon the horrific geography and faulty knowledge of ships, I'll work on that. Kindly looked at by my good buddy Jamie. :)
Disclaimer: The only things that are mine are the plot (Plot? Huh, funny...) and Biddy. But nobody wants her so we're good to go, savvy?
Market Day was always the busiest day in Port Eaton. Merchants flung their wares out into the bright sunlight, readied their voices, and began to coax the crowd. People of all sorts came through, the noise and bustle attracting any number of folks. A large, handsomely dressed and rather red faced man was plowing through the crowd, a pleased grin on his face. Depending on who you talked to, Arvide Duggleby was the most prestigious spice trader on the island. He had hired help to sell his wares, and even his own fleet out of St. George that exported cinnamon and cocoa back to Britain. His local fare, however, was reserved for Market Day. But today he was having a bit of trouble with his seven year old daughter, Biddy. He'd lost sight of her again.
Wading back through the crowd, he saw the top of her messily coiffed hairdo, and sighed. Coming to her, he seized her wrist and proceeded back through the crowd, a dragging child behind him.
"Da-dy!!" She caterwauled, digging her small, well polished shoes into the cobbled street as best as she could, "I was looking at the dresses! I want one, buy me one PLEASE?"
"Biddy, for the love of God," Arvide said wearily as he and his daughter found a side-path that was less jammed with eager shoppers, "we have a carriage to get to, we're going to St. George. I can't stop and buy you a dress right now. I will buy you one in St. George, okay? I need to make sure this shipment is getting back to Britain on time and unharmed."
"It's not fair!" Biddy began to wail, her bottom lip quivering in that tell-all gesture. "You don't love me, you HATE me daddy!"
"No, no sweetheart!" Arvide said hurriedly, trying to move the child again. "It's just that these dresses are peasant stuff, we'll get you a real dress, with satin and trim, in St. George."
"But how long until THEN, Daddy?" She asked, her voice a plaintive whine that grated his nerves.
"About an hour's time, sweet." He led the way to a carriage that was waiting patiently, the horse stomping with a small snort. Biddy eyed the animal and came to a snap decision.
"I don't want a dress when we get to St. George. I want a pony."
"We'll see, darling, we'll see." Arvide said, giving a nod to the driver to start off.
The winds were high, and the crew was thirsty. As it settled into berth, the captain had another of his infamous brilliant ideas. As men scrambled to lay anchor and begin tying down, he called out, "What say we get drinks'n grub? An' wenches! All in favor?"
"AYE! Drinks! Grub! WENCHES!" Chorused most of the crew, those who weren't pulling or tying things and too busy to shout agreement, that was.
"Good, then, good. We got enough coinage here to keep us in until DUSK!" He exclaimed with a grin. There was more cheering. Captain Jack Sparrow knew how to have a good time, and for this his crew thanked him. Well....most of his crew, anyway.
"Hold it just a moment," a voice called before a woman pushed her way through to stand in front of Jack. She eyed him critically. "We can't just go prancing off, idiot. What about a guard?"
"Who'd steal the Pearl here?! You always spoil the fun, Anamaria." Jack said with a careless laugh and a shrug.
"No one would steal it, CAPTAIN, but there are these little things that hang around every port called 'soldiers'. And the Pearl is a wanted ship. They'll be on it before you can blink."
"Not here, the Fort's out ten miles, we're safe as can be. Asides, we're just here for a good honest drink and some hot food, right?" He asked, spreading his hands and giving what he hoped was a convincing grin.
"Well, at least have someone keep watch." She said, narrowing her eyes and planting her hands on her hips.
"Fine, you want it so much, you do it then." He countered, tapping her shoulder as though appointing her.
"Let's not be hasty." She said quickly, looking around at the crew members gathering near the gangplank. All the others avoided her glance when she tried to meet their eyes. Jack looked too, and his eyes fell upon a flash of bright blue and yellow.
"Mr. Cotton!" Jack exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "The parrot."
"Captain, did you ever think this was the attitude that lost you the Pearl in the first place?" The woman asked, giving him a side glance.
"She's right, Jack," a fellow named Coulster supplemented. "Leavin' a parrot in charge? Askin' for trouble, that."
"You want the job 'stead a him, then?" Jack asked coolly, flashing a knowing grin when Coulster shook his head vehemently. "Settled!" Mr. Cotton nodded, and placed the parrot on the railing. "Will you swear to inform us of unfriendly boarders, or threats to me Pearl?" Jack asked the macaw sternly.
"I'll keelhaul THEM!" The parrot answered, giving a flap of its wings to supplement. Jack nodded and the crew sent up a hearty cheer of "drinks, grub, 'n wenches!" before trooping off the boat in search of a tavern. The parrot whistled a few bars of song before he began walking along the railing to the shrouds. Once on those, he climbed until he reached a suitable height for perching and lookout.
The smooth, floral printed satin caught gleams of light in the dress shop windows. Biddy twirled happily, admiring the way the dress fluffed out like a sun umbrella. The seamstress snugly placed a gleaming, design scrawled comb into Biddy's tightly pulled back dishwater hair and nodded with approval. So did Biddy's father.
"This one! This one!" She squealed excitedly, making the seamstress flinch for a moment.
"My daughter has made her choice, I see. Now, I'll just pay you quickly, I have a meeting at the council buildings to get to, can't be late you know." Arvide said hurriedly, his face flushed with the new urgency of impending lateness. He and the seamstress headed to the oak counter. Distracted, Biddy skipped out into the sunlight. A large corral nestled on the small green hillside had captured her attention. Still in her new dress, she crossed the street aimlessly and, careful not to dirty the yards of pretty white ruffled dress, made her way closer to the pens.
"Ponies!" She whispered happily, reaching out a hand when one curious roan came close and sniffed it. "Daddy will get me one of you," she promised softly. About to go back across the road to inform him he could buy her a pony and STILL make it to his meeting, she was caught by a heavy hand.
"How many times do I have to tell you? No running off!" Arvide said through clenched teeth. "Stay with ME, Biddy. This isn't home, you can't run everywhere you please."
"Look," she pointed fiercely, her wide mouth spread in a gleeful smile, "you can get me a pony here, see?" Arvide sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. The man selling the ponies looked ready to rush over to him, but Arvide gave a dissenting wave with one beefy hand before looking down at his eager, spoiled daughter.
"NO, Biddy. You have seven ponies at home, a carriage, and someone to drive you around. You are NOT getting another pony. I just got you that very expensive dress like you wanted. We're going to the council building. And I don't want to hear another word about it!" He finished, his voice practically a roar. Biddy's eyes filled with tears that ran down her pudgy, lightly freckled cheeks, and she clenched her hands. "Now, no tears, love, no tears." Arvide said hurriedly. But Biddy was shaking by this time.
"You're so MEAN, daddy! You don't love me! YOU HATE ME!" With another anguished cry, she flung herself to the ground.
"Biddy!" He ordered through clenched teeth, angry at the scene she was making. "Biddy get up." Hauling her to her feet when she resisted, he made his way down the street towards the harbor, sweating and puffing with the effort of dragging a weeping, unwilling child with him. Trying to act nonchalant, he even waved jauntily at a passing carriage, Biddy giving a dreadful moan and screaming shrilly as they came to the harbor streets. "Now," Arvide said, firmly plunking her down on a bench outside the council and commerce building. "You are going to stay here and rethink your attitude, missy. And I'll be watching from that window, so don't even THINK about moving. When you're ready to behave like a good girl, you come in and sit next to me." So saying, he turned and strode heavily into the building.
Biddy sat on the stump, still sniffling pitifully in hopes that a passerby would notice her and ask what was wrong. "My father is unkind to me", she would say if asked, a single, brave tear trickling down her cheek. "He starves me and takes away the things I love." Yes, that would earn sympathy. Maybe a pony. But she was still so mad, tears came to her eyes at the thought of the little roan nosing her. She wanted that pony so bad, her father was SO unfair! Maybe if he thought she was in danger, he'd be so relieved to get her back he'd get her a pony. Why stop there? Anything she wanted! Besides, he needed a lesson. She'd show her father, she'd show him! It was all a matter of timing.
Arvide, deep in conversation with his export and spice company's middleman, turned his head away from the window where his child's flat back was pressed sulkily against the glass. He didn't see her slip off down to the docks.
There were so many ships, and people. Biddy got bumped a lot as she made her way along the harbor. Trying to throw angry glances over her shoulder was no use, every time she did, she wasn't looking where she was going, and she bumped into yet another person. Giving up on that, she tried instead looking for a ship not occupied by people. People would notice her and bring her back to her father. Armed with the ignorant certainty that EVERYONE must know her father, she was left with little option but to keep searching. She also got many glances, in her bright satin dress she was hardly subtle. If she thought she was being so, she was sadly mistaken. It was rather a stupid decision to run away and hide, if she would have thought on it. Her father was constantly warning her about 'seedy types that roam the docks looking for children to steal. They'd have you faster than a blink, Biddy, you stay AWAY from docks unless you're with me or Emmeline.' Well, the maidservant wasn't there, and neither was her father. With complete disregard for her father's rules, Biddy kept going.
She tripped a few times, and just about tore the seam of her dress walking past a harried looking woman with six rolls of bread in each arm. All at once, three grubby, ill fed children leapt in front of her, barring her path. The leader, a boy with tousled dark hair and wild gray eyes all but snarled at her. "Lookit here! A pet!" The other two, a boy and a girl with the same hair in various states of disarray and the same unnerving eyes, nodding in chuckling agreement. Siblings, by the looks of things. If Biddy had spent more time near the docks, or any time, she'd know these were brick layer's children, this trio particularly nasty and notorious for bullying.
"'s not fair," the girl, maybe a year older than Biddy, complained, eyeing Biddy's dress with a hungry stare, "I wanna dress like that!"
"Well, den, Alice, we'll get it for ya!" The first boy exclaimed.
"Don't come near me!" Biddy shrilled, balling her hands into fists. "My daddy's REALLY REALLY rich and he'll do something bad to you if you hurt me!" This apparently, did not thwart her antagonists. The third boy snuck behind her and gave her back a push. She grunted in distaste at his filthy hands, trying to brush her back off.
"Means naught to us, we's not rich." He said, practically in her ear. Giving a shriek of disgust, she bolted, crying once again. The wicked laughter of the children followed her, but they didn't pursue. Crying and upset at the whole mess, she pushed through the crowds, and like a miracle before her there was a ship with not a soul on guard. And the gangplank was even down. Not questioning such luck, she charged ahead, her feet thumping on the rough wood.
High above, near the crow's nest, the lone watcher saw her board. "Drink up," he reminded himself. He couldn't be bothered with warning the crew, he had preening to do. Tucking back into his flight feathers, he resolved to fly out to them later.
No one was on deck, either. Good, this was absolutely wonderful. But those awful children, DIRTY one had TOUCHED her, might be after her. She needed a place to hide. Looking around, chest hitching with every breath, she didn't see anywhere. Blundering around on deck, she found near the wheel a small rope handle and pulled, hoping against hope it led to a secret hatch. "Whah??!" She exclaimed, seeing bottle upon bottle of amber liquid stacked there. Well, no room for her. Maybe this wasn't the best ship to hide on. Going along the foredeck, she was muttering to herself. A concave area revealed a set of dimly lit stairs. She took these down to the bottom. Maybe here, she might be safe here. Opening a rustic looking door revealed an even dimmer room. This one had what looked to be a cell, and a small table. Perfect hiding place. Crouching, she wiggled under the table. "Ewwww" She muttered. The floor was cold and a wee bit damp, and it soaked straight through her lovely dress. Well, when she was sure a reasonable amount of time had passed, she would return to the council building and tell her Daddy about the mean urchins who had hit her and called her names. He'd buy her a new one, a red one to match the pony.
After a little while, she began to grow bored, and her legs cramped. Crawling out from under the table, she stretched with a small yelp as complaining muscles gained feeling once again. Her dress dragged on the gritty floor, and she sighed in heavy dismay. Nothing to do about it now. Climbing back up the steps, she froze. Were those steps she heard? Quickly flattening herself against the doorframe, she listened again. Her dress, however, had other ideas. It poofed out like banner of welcome from the head of the stairs.
"But I DID mudda gudda summllll" a voice argued, slurring and swaying as the owner made its way up the gangplank.
"Aye, you sure did! Gave 'em hell, what!" Another voice, a little less slurred but still not entirely lucid, agreed. A large, drunken mass of voices further down agreed.
"Twas a good day, let's be off now! Get to work!" Was all Biddy heard before she frantically ran back down the stairs and into the jail room. She heard the sound of ropes being pulled and orders shouted, and her heart began to thud heavily. She had to hide until they left again. They would, she hoped. If they caught her, she'd be in BIG TROUBLE. But the table wasn't an option. The creaking sound of a door made her give a breathless shriek before she spotted a small crawlspace. It was nestled beside a cannon, but no one would see her. Leaping up onto the small platform, the little girl shoved herself into the space, too terrified to think straight. Then a plan began to form, a good plan. She'd go above and talk to the people working the ship when they were a little ways out to sea. She'd ask them to put her in a boat and send her back, if they promised not to tell her father. If she waited long enough, they'd just do it and wouldn't argue, she was sure.
That settled, she looked out the tiny piece window the cannon's cold metal body wasn't obscuring. Weary from all the walking she wasn't used to and all the stress, her head sank slowly to the small arms resting on the tucked in knees, and soon she was earnestly asleep, out of sight and out of mind for the time being.
"Where are we headed now, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked, shading his eyes to the oncoming sun. He and Jack were standing at the prow. Well, he was, Jack was leaning against the wheel sleepily. They hadn't stayed till dusk, but most of the crew had gotten properly drunk. Still, Jack was able to steer the ship out of St. George and into open waters. He could, he'd brag often, do it with his eyes closed. But he'd rather do it drunk, he added this time, taking another swig from the bottle he had brought on board from the tavern. Now, though, he was leaning into the wheel and staring intently at the sea.
"You know something? I have NO idea. Not back there, though, I can say that. Too many stuck up ladies full of bloody propriety. Give 'em to me ugly and plain, and fun, I say."
"Aye," Gibbs agreed, tipping his own flask to a grin. "So, no clue, eh?"
"We could always head to Tortuga, friendly waters and such. To plan further good fun. We DO need a restock," he admitted, tapping the hatch below him. "We're gettin' low on emergency rum. Only fifty bottles left. But we'll see, find out when we get around to it, most like. Turnbuckle!" He suddenly called. A short, wide eyed fellow appeared at his elbow. "Just keep her heading north. Awright?"
"Aye, captain." The man agreed, taking the wheel as Jack strode away to inspect the rest of his crew.
All were done with their chores and were sleeping off the trip in to port, leaning against the mast, against the deck, or against each other. Most snored loudly, the sound rising louder than the slap of the waves on the ship's hull. It had been fun, Jack decided, they needed to do it more often. He had no particular place to go, so a nap was in order for him as well. Heading to his quarters, he gave a nod to Gibbs before shutting the door.
Her muscles screamed for release, pulling her from her troubled dreams. She was chilly and confused from sleep, and blinked heavily at her surroundings. Where was she? What had happened? And then it came to her in a huge rush. Her heart thudding, she slowly got out of her crouch against the cannon holding. Letting out a loud gasp of pain with no thought of muffling it, she cautiously flexed arms and legs. Frozen in position for near ten hours, they twinged like knives, and more gasps, more like shrieks, began to follow. "Ow! OWWWWWW!" She yelled as her back creaked, and then her neck. "YOWCH!" Her scream was so loud it echoed in the small room, and for a moment Biddy paused, almost as though waking up to the reality of her situation. But the flashing wash of pain was keeping her from doing much but making a great deal of noise. So much noise that one of the crew members who was dozing with his ear pressed to the deck was jarred from his slumber.
"Hey, hey wake up," he said to the man next to him, shaking him violently. "Either I'm still drunk, or there's a murder goin' on down in the brig." He said in a whisper when his companion had woken up. The other one belched loudly before giving a listen.
"I dunno, I hear it too. Reckon we tell Jack?"
"Nah, what if it's him doin' the yellin'?"
"Thass not Jack, stupid. Thass a girl yellin'!" The first man argued.
"How can yah tell? You heard a girl yell afore, mate? Oh yeah, prolly one yellin' at you to get outta their sight!" The second one jested, earning a punch in the nose.
"I'm gonna go have a look. Come on, then, don't wanna go alone." Getting up, the first one dragged the second to his feet and they made their way cautiously down the steps. Once down in the quarters, the first one heard the screams again. "Thass comin' from the brig!" He determined, leading the way once more.
Biddy, hopping around on alternating feet, was surprised to see two men poke their heads in. She screamed again, in mingled fear and pain, for yet another muscle cramp seized her.
"What the hell..?" The first man asked in surprise as he watched the small girl in the VERY out of place dress leaping around the brig.
"You say somethin'? I can't hear no more!" The second shouted, Biddy's scream still lodged in his ears and, enhanced by his massive hangover, rebounding painfully.
About this time, Biddy realized that her plan involved talking to the people aboard the ship, and stopped screaming. Trying to straighten out her dress, she marched over to the two very surprised crew members.
"I wanna go home. Put me on a boat and don't tell my daddy I ran away, and I won't be any more trouble." She announced sagely, hands behind her back. Both men continued to stare at her. "I said I wanna go HOME." She enforced when neither spoke. "Me, home, boat."
"I think we better go see Anamaria. She's like this'un, she'll know what to do about their kind." The second man said wisely.
"Look, you...stay here, or follow us, or whatever. Just no more screamin', okay? Hurts the ears, you know." Biddy nodded and followed them with all the delicate dignity she could muster. Maybe this 'Anamaria' was the Lady of the ship. Baffled by the man's reference to 'their kind', she picked her way around sleeping crew members, emitting little sounds when one breathed on her ankle or her dress hem caused one to wiggle his nose.
They went the length of the ship, and at the stern there was a small room for storage of things like lines, spare sails, and such. Anamaria was busy taking inventory, ticking things off on her fingers and looking rather irritated when Biddy's discoverers tapped her on the shoulder.
"What?" She spun on them, causing Biddy to gasp. She wasn't a Lady at all! She was filthy in ill fitting clothes, with an absurd hat and tangled, horrible hair. Why, she looked like a man dressed in those clothes. Any respect or liking Biddy had fostered up until now vanished as Anamaria's dark eyes wandered to her. "Who in the world is that?" She asked, pointing and glaring at Biddy. As disgusted with the "woman" as she was, Biddy quailed at the look.
"Dunno, she's a woman and you is, we figured you'd know where she came from, and such."
"What GREAT logic, Pib." Anamaria remarked, rolling her eyes when Pib beamed at what he believed to be a compliment. "Either of you try asking her where she's from?"
"St. George. And I wanna go back!" Biddy piped up nervously, clinging to the hem of her own skirts.
"Oh hell," Anamaria muttered, thundering to the captain's quarters and pounding on the door. "Captain Sparrow! Captain Sparrow get your lazy no good self out here!" She yelled, making Biddy jump again, and start crying. Everyone was so mad.
Jack, blinking from sleep and opening the door in a sort of daze, took one look at Anamaria's face and shut the door again.
"OPEN IT RIGHT NOW!" She roared with enough fury to make a lion start. Jack opened the door, sighing.
"Look, if it's about us almost out of rum..." he began, looking at her uneasily.
"Just take a look at what the cats dragged up." Jack's eyes widened and he rubbed them a few times as he stared disbelievingly at Biddy, who was still crying. For her part, she tried to hide even more. He was SCARY.
"Where'd it come from?" He asked, still staring at her.
"St. George."
"How'd you get on the ship?" Jack asked the now sobbing child.
"The...the gangplank....children...teasing...I...I-"
"WHO LEFT THE GANGPLANK DOWN?" Anamaria shouted again, startling Biddy into fresh shrieks and sobs, and causing Pib and his companion to wisely step away.
"Well, we were all too drunk to get on any other bloody way." Jack reasoned.
"This is what happens when you leave a parrot in charge, Captain Sparrow. Now we're stuck with her!"
"In his defense, Mr. Cotton's parrot was told to warn us if threatening persons came aboard the Pearl. This is hardly a threatening person. He was doing his job." Jack pointed out.
"I don't care. We have to take her back unless we want a bloody armada after us."
"It's only a little person. They float when they're small, don't they? Toss it overboard, it'll go back to shore." This caused more sobbing, and Jack backed up a few steps from Biddy, eyes wide in puzzlement.
"Look at her. She's rich, the silk, the leather choker, I bet it has her family surname on it." Anamaria said, pointing to the choker around Biddy's neck. To Biddy's utter fright, Jack leaned in for a closer look at the small, circular silver piece imbedded in the center which indeed was scrawled with the word "Duggleby".
"Bloody hell, Duggs!" Jack exclaimed with a laugh. "That's the fleet we got all that nice cinnamon from. Was great on the bread and all too." He added with another reminiscent chuckle.
"Great. So if they DO come after us, he knows you've stolen from him before. This just gets better. They'll cry 'kidnap' and it's all over for us."
"Now, why don't we just send her out to the nearest colony? I already forget where St. George is, so we'll just put her among the nearest people we come to."
"You forget where St. George is?" Anamaria asked in disbelief.
"Prefer to. Don't wanna go that way again. I know where Tortuga is, though." He said with a nod. "St. George is one of those fancy places. Good drink, but much too stuffy. Tortuga's better."
"Well, what are we going to do about the stowaway?" Anamaria queried wearily. Jack shrugged.
"You look after her. She's a girl, you are too. No offense, but you are." He added, his hands up defensively against any attack. "So, take her and soothe her or whatever it is you do, while I work out a plan, savvy?" And before Anamaria could object, Jack had gone back into his room, wisely locking and bolting the door this time.
Anamaria was left standing high and dry, looking hopelessly at a sobbing Biddy. "Oh, this will just be one BIG barrel of laughs." She muttered to herself, taking the girl's limp wrist and leading her belowdecks with leaden steps.
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You Can't Always Get What You Want
By Deep Roller
A/N: With the high seas swarming with Pirate Sues, what's a girl to do but try her darndest? Oh, and pardon the horrific geography and faulty knowledge of ships, I'll work on that. Kindly looked at by my good buddy Jamie. :)
Disclaimer: The only things that are mine are the plot (Plot? Huh, funny...) and Biddy. But nobody wants her so we're good to go, savvy?
Market Day was always the busiest day in Port Eaton. Merchants flung their wares out into the bright sunlight, readied their voices, and began to coax the crowd. People of all sorts came through, the noise and bustle attracting any number of folks. A large, handsomely dressed and rather red faced man was plowing through the crowd, a pleased grin on his face. Depending on who you talked to, Arvide Duggleby was the most prestigious spice trader on the island. He had hired help to sell his wares, and even his own fleet out of St. George that exported cinnamon and cocoa back to Britain. His local fare, however, was reserved for Market Day. But today he was having a bit of trouble with his seven year old daughter, Biddy. He'd lost sight of her again.
Wading back through the crowd, he saw the top of her messily coiffed hairdo, and sighed. Coming to her, he seized her wrist and proceeded back through the crowd, a dragging child behind him.
"Da-dy!!" She caterwauled, digging her small, well polished shoes into the cobbled street as best as she could, "I was looking at the dresses! I want one, buy me one PLEASE?"
"Biddy, for the love of God," Arvide said wearily as he and his daughter found a side-path that was less jammed with eager shoppers, "we have a carriage to get to, we're going to St. George. I can't stop and buy you a dress right now. I will buy you one in St. George, okay? I need to make sure this shipment is getting back to Britain on time and unharmed."
"It's not fair!" Biddy began to wail, her bottom lip quivering in that tell-all gesture. "You don't love me, you HATE me daddy!"
"No, no sweetheart!" Arvide said hurriedly, trying to move the child again. "It's just that these dresses are peasant stuff, we'll get you a real dress, with satin and trim, in St. George."
"But how long until THEN, Daddy?" She asked, her voice a plaintive whine that grated his nerves.
"About an hour's time, sweet." He led the way to a carriage that was waiting patiently, the horse stomping with a small snort. Biddy eyed the animal and came to a snap decision.
"I don't want a dress when we get to St. George. I want a pony."
"We'll see, darling, we'll see." Arvide said, giving a nod to the driver to start off.
The winds were high, and the crew was thirsty. As it settled into berth, the captain had another of his infamous brilliant ideas. As men scrambled to lay anchor and begin tying down, he called out, "What say we get drinks'n grub? An' wenches! All in favor?"
"AYE! Drinks! Grub! WENCHES!" Chorused most of the crew, those who weren't pulling or tying things and too busy to shout agreement, that was.
"Good, then, good. We got enough coinage here to keep us in until DUSK!" He exclaimed with a grin. There was more cheering. Captain Jack Sparrow knew how to have a good time, and for this his crew thanked him. Well....most of his crew, anyway.
"Hold it just a moment," a voice called before a woman pushed her way through to stand in front of Jack. She eyed him critically. "We can't just go prancing off, idiot. What about a guard?"
"Who'd steal the Pearl here?! You always spoil the fun, Anamaria." Jack said with a careless laugh and a shrug.
"No one would steal it, CAPTAIN, but there are these little things that hang around every port called 'soldiers'. And the Pearl is a wanted ship. They'll be on it before you can blink."
"Not here, the Fort's out ten miles, we're safe as can be. Asides, we're just here for a good honest drink and some hot food, right?" He asked, spreading his hands and giving what he hoped was a convincing grin.
"Well, at least have someone keep watch." She said, narrowing her eyes and planting her hands on her hips.
"Fine, you want it so much, you do it then." He countered, tapping her shoulder as though appointing her.
"Let's not be hasty." She said quickly, looking around at the crew members gathering near the gangplank. All the others avoided her glance when she tried to meet their eyes. Jack looked too, and his eyes fell upon a flash of bright blue and yellow.
"Mr. Cotton!" Jack exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "The parrot."
"Captain, did you ever think this was the attitude that lost you the Pearl in the first place?" The woman asked, giving him a side glance.
"She's right, Jack," a fellow named Coulster supplemented. "Leavin' a parrot in charge? Askin' for trouble, that."
"You want the job 'stead a him, then?" Jack asked coolly, flashing a knowing grin when Coulster shook his head vehemently. "Settled!" Mr. Cotton nodded, and placed the parrot on the railing. "Will you swear to inform us of unfriendly boarders, or threats to me Pearl?" Jack asked the macaw sternly.
"I'll keelhaul THEM!" The parrot answered, giving a flap of its wings to supplement. Jack nodded and the crew sent up a hearty cheer of "drinks, grub, 'n wenches!" before trooping off the boat in search of a tavern. The parrot whistled a few bars of song before he began walking along the railing to the shrouds. Once on those, he climbed until he reached a suitable height for perching and lookout.
The smooth, floral printed satin caught gleams of light in the dress shop windows. Biddy twirled happily, admiring the way the dress fluffed out like a sun umbrella. The seamstress snugly placed a gleaming, design scrawled comb into Biddy's tightly pulled back dishwater hair and nodded with approval. So did Biddy's father.
"This one! This one!" She squealed excitedly, making the seamstress flinch for a moment.
"My daughter has made her choice, I see. Now, I'll just pay you quickly, I have a meeting at the council buildings to get to, can't be late you know." Arvide said hurriedly, his face flushed with the new urgency of impending lateness. He and the seamstress headed to the oak counter. Distracted, Biddy skipped out into the sunlight. A large corral nestled on the small green hillside had captured her attention. Still in her new dress, she crossed the street aimlessly and, careful not to dirty the yards of pretty white ruffled dress, made her way closer to the pens.
"Ponies!" She whispered happily, reaching out a hand when one curious roan came close and sniffed it. "Daddy will get me one of you," she promised softly. About to go back across the road to inform him he could buy her a pony and STILL make it to his meeting, she was caught by a heavy hand.
"How many times do I have to tell you? No running off!" Arvide said through clenched teeth. "Stay with ME, Biddy. This isn't home, you can't run everywhere you please."
"Look," she pointed fiercely, her wide mouth spread in a gleeful smile, "you can get me a pony here, see?" Arvide sighed heavily, rubbing his temples. The man selling the ponies looked ready to rush over to him, but Arvide gave a dissenting wave with one beefy hand before looking down at his eager, spoiled daughter.
"NO, Biddy. You have seven ponies at home, a carriage, and someone to drive you around. You are NOT getting another pony. I just got you that very expensive dress like you wanted. We're going to the council building. And I don't want to hear another word about it!" He finished, his voice practically a roar. Biddy's eyes filled with tears that ran down her pudgy, lightly freckled cheeks, and she clenched her hands. "Now, no tears, love, no tears." Arvide said hurriedly. But Biddy was shaking by this time.
"You're so MEAN, daddy! You don't love me! YOU HATE ME!" With another anguished cry, she flung herself to the ground.
"Biddy!" He ordered through clenched teeth, angry at the scene she was making. "Biddy get up." Hauling her to her feet when she resisted, he made his way down the street towards the harbor, sweating and puffing with the effort of dragging a weeping, unwilling child with him. Trying to act nonchalant, he even waved jauntily at a passing carriage, Biddy giving a dreadful moan and screaming shrilly as they came to the harbor streets. "Now," Arvide said, firmly plunking her down on a bench outside the council and commerce building. "You are going to stay here and rethink your attitude, missy. And I'll be watching from that window, so don't even THINK about moving. When you're ready to behave like a good girl, you come in and sit next to me." So saying, he turned and strode heavily into the building.
Biddy sat on the stump, still sniffling pitifully in hopes that a passerby would notice her and ask what was wrong. "My father is unkind to me", she would say if asked, a single, brave tear trickling down her cheek. "He starves me and takes away the things I love." Yes, that would earn sympathy. Maybe a pony. But she was still so mad, tears came to her eyes at the thought of the little roan nosing her. She wanted that pony so bad, her father was SO unfair! Maybe if he thought she was in danger, he'd be so relieved to get her back he'd get her a pony. Why stop there? Anything she wanted! Besides, he needed a lesson. She'd show her father, she'd show him! It was all a matter of timing.
Arvide, deep in conversation with his export and spice company's middleman, turned his head away from the window where his child's flat back was pressed sulkily against the glass. He didn't see her slip off down to the docks.
There were so many ships, and people. Biddy got bumped a lot as she made her way along the harbor. Trying to throw angry glances over her shoulder was no use, every time she did, she wasn't looking where she was going, and she bumped into yet another person. Giving up on that, she tried instead looking for a ship not occupied by people. People would notice her and bring her back to her father. Armed with the ignorant certainty that EVERYONE must know her father, she was left with little option but to keep searching. She also got many glances, in her bright satin dress she was hardly subtle. If she thought she was being so, she was sadly mistaken. It was rather a stupid decision to run away and hide, if she would have thought on it. Her father was constantly warning her about 'seedy types that roam the docks looking for children to steal. They'd have you faster than a blink, Biddy, you stay AWAY from docks unless you're with me or Emmeline.' Well, the maidservant wasn't there, and neither was her father. With complete disregard for her father's rules, Biddy kept going.
She tripped a few times, and just about tore the seam of her dress walking past a harried looking woman with six rolls of bread in each arm. All at once, three grubby, ill fed children leapt in front of her, barring her path. The leader, a boy with tousled dark hair and wild gray eyes all but snarled at her. "Lookit here! A pet!" The other two, a boy and a girl with the same hair in various states of disarray and the same unnerving eyes, nodding in chuckling agreement. Siblings, by the looks of things. If Biddy had spent more time near the docks, or any time, she'd know these were brick layer's children, this trio particularly nasty and notorious for bullying.
"'s not fair," the girl, maybe a year older than Biddy, complained, eyeing Biddy's dress with a hungry stare, "I wanna dress like that!"
"Well, den, Alice, we'll get it for ya!" The first boy exclaimed.
"Don't come near me!" Biddy shrilled, balling her hands into fists. "My daddy's REALLY REALLY rich and he'll do something bad to you if you hurt me!" This apparently, did not thwart her antagonists. The third boy snuck behind her and gave her back a push. She grunted in distaste at his filthy hands, trying to brush her back off.
"Means naught to us, we's not rich." He said, practically in her ear. Giving a shriek of disgust, she bolted, crying once again. The wicked laughter of the children followed her, but they didn't pursue. Crying and upset at the whole mess, she pushed through the crowds, and like a miracle before her there was a ship with not a soul on guard. And the gangplank was even down. Not questioning such luck, she charged ahead, her feet thumping on the rough wood.
High above, near the crow's nest, the lone watcher saw her board. "Drink up," he reminded himself. He couldn't be bothered with warning the crew, he had preening to do. Tucking back into his flight feathers, he resolved to fly out to them later.
No one was on deck, either. Good, this was absolutely wonderful. But those awful children, DIRTY one had TOUCHED her, might be after her. She needed a place to hide. Looking around, chest hitching with every breath, she didn't see anywhere. Blundering around on deck, she found near the wheel a small rope handle and pulled, hoping against hope it led to a secret hatch. "Whah??!" She exclaimed, seeing bottle upon bottle of amber liquid stacked there. Well, no room for her. Maybe this wasn't the best ship to hide on. Going along the foredeck, she was muttering to herself. A concave area revealed a set of dimly lit stairs. She took these down to the bottom. Maybe here, she might be safe here. Opening a rustic looking door revealed an even dimmer room. This one had what looked to be a cell, and a small table. Perfect hiding place. Crouching, she wiggled under the table. "Ewwww" She muttered. The floor was cold and a wee bit damp, and it soaked straight through her lovely dress. Well, when she was sure a reasonable amount of time had passed, she would return to the council building and tell her Daddy about the mean urchins who had hit her and called her names. He'd buy her a new one, a red one to match the pony.
After a little while, she began to grow bored, and her legs cramped. Crawling out from under the table, she stretched with a small yelp as complaining muscles gained feeling once again. Her dress dragged on the gritty floor, and she sighed in heavy dismay. Nothing to do about it now. Climbing back up the steps, she froze. Were those steps she heard? Quickly flattening herself against the doorframe, she listened again. Her dress, however, had other ideas. It poofed out like banner of welcome from the head of the stairs.
"But I DID mudda gudda summllll" a voice argued, slurring and swaying as the owner made its way up the gangplank.
"Aye, you sure did! Gave 'em hell, what!" Another voice, a little less slurred but still not entirely lucid, agreed. A large, drunken mass of voices further down agreed.
"Twas a good day, let's be off now! Get to work!" Was all Biddy heard before she frantically ran back down the stairs and into the jail room. She heard the sound of ropes being pulled and orders shouted, and her heart began to thud heavily. She had to hide until they left again. They would, she hoped. If they caught her, she'd be in BIG TROUBLE. But the table wasn't an option. The creaking sound of a door made her give a breathless shriek before she spotted a small crawlspace. It was nestled beside a cannon, but no one would see her. Leaping up onto the small platform, the little girl shoved herself into the space, too terrified to think straight. Then a plan began to form, a good plan. She'd go above and talk to the people working the ship when they were a little ways out to sea. She'd ask them to put her in a boat and send her back, if they promised not to tell her father. If she waited long enough, they'd just do it and wouldn't argue, she was sure.
That settled, she looked out the tiny piece window the cannon's cold metal body wasn't obscuring. Weary from all the walking she wasn't used to and all the stress, her head sank slowly to the small arms resting on the tucked in knees, and soon she was earnestly asleep, out of sight and out of mind for the time being.
"Where are we headed now, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked, shading his eyes to the oncoming sun. He and Jack were standing at the prow. Well, he was, Jack was leaning against the wheel sleepily. They hadn't stayed till dusk, but most of the crew had gotten properly drunk. Still, Jack was able to steer the ship out of St. George and into open waters. He could, he'd brag often, do it with his eyes closed. But he'd rather do it drunk, he added this time, taking another swig from the bottle he had brought on board from the tavern. Now, though, he was leaning into the wheel and staring intently at the sea.
"You know something? I have NO idea. Not back there, though, I can say that. Too many stuck up ladies full of bloody propriety. Give 'em to me ugly and plain, and fun, I say."
"Aye," Gibbs agreed, tipping his own flask to a grin. "So, no clue, eh?"
"We could always head to Tortuga, friendly waters and such. To plan further good fun. We DO need a restock," he admitted, tapping the hatch below him. "We're gettin' low on emergency rum. Only fifty bottles left. But we'll see, find out when we get around to it, most like. Turnbuckle!" He suddenly called. A short, wide eyed fellow appeared at his elbow. "Just keep her heading north. Awright?"
"Aye, captain." The man agreed, taking the wheel as Jack strode away to inspect the rest of his crew.
All were done with their chores and were sleeping off the trip in to port, leaning against the mast, against the deck, or against each other. Most snored loudly, the sound rising louder than the slap of the waves on the ship's hull. It had been fun, Jack decided, they needed to do it more often. He had no particular place to go, so a nap was in order for him as well. Heading to his quarters, he gave a nod to Gibbs before shutting the door.
Her muscles screamed for release, pulling her from her troubled dreams. She was chilly and confused from sleep, and blinked heavily at her surroundings. Where was she? What had happened? And then it came to her in a huge rush. Her heart thudding, she slowly got out of her crouch against the cannon holding. Letting out a loud gasp of pain with no thought of muffling it, she cautiously flexed arms and legs. Frozen in position for near ten hours, they twinged like knives, and more gasps, more like shrieks, began to follow. "Ow! OWWWWWW!" She yelled as her back creaked, and then her neck. "YOWCH!" Her scream was so loud it echoed in the small room, and for a moment Biddy paused, almost as though waking up to the reality of her situation. But the flashing wash of pain was keeping her from doing much but making a great deal of noise. So much noise that one of the crew members who was dozing with his ear pressed to the deck was jarred from his slumber.
"Hey, hey wake up," he said to the man next to him, shaking him violently. "Either I'm still drunk, or there's a murder goin' on down in the brig." He said in a whisper when his companion had woken up. The other one belched loudly before giving a listen.
"I dunno, I hear it too. Reckon we tell Jack?"
"Nah, what if it's him doin' the yellin'?"
"Thass not Jack, stupid. Thass a girl yellin'!" The first man argued.
"How can yah tell? You heard a girl yell afore, mate? Oh yeah, prolly one yellin' at you to get outta their sight!" The second one jested, earning a punch in the nose.
"I'm gonna go have a look. Come on, then, don't wanna go alone." Getting up, the first one dragged the second to his feet and they made their way cautiously down the steps. Once down in the quarters, the first one heard the screams again. "Thass comin' from the brig!" He determined, leading the way once more.
Biddy, hopping around on alternating feet, was surprised to see two men poke their heads in. She screamed again, in mingled fear and pain, for yet another muscle cramp seized her.
"What the hell..?" The first man asked in surprise as he watched the small girl in the VERY out of place dress leaping around the brig.
"You say somethin'? I can't hear no more!" The second shouted, Biddy's scream still lodged in his ears and, enhanced by his massive hangover, rebounding painfully.
About this time, Biddy realized that her plan involved talking to the people aboard the ship, and stopped screaming. Trying to straighten out her dress, she marched over to the two very surprised crew members.
"I wanna go home. Put me on a boat and don't tell my daddy I ran away, and I won't be any more trouble." She announced sagely, hands behind her back. Both men continued to stare at her. "I said I wanna go HOME." She enforced when neither spoke. "Me, home, boat."
"I think we better go see Anamaria. She's like this'un, she'll know what to do about their kind." The second man said wisely.
"Look, you...stay here, or follow us, or whatever. Just no more screamin', okay? Hurts the ears, you know." Biddy nodded and followed them with all the delicate dignity she could muster. Maybe this 'Anamaria' was the Lady of the ship. Baffled by the man's reference to 'their kind', she picked her way around sleeping crew members, emitting little sounds when one breathed on her ankle or her dress hem caused one to wiggle his nose.
They went the length of the ship, and at the stern there was a small room for storage of things like lines, spare sails, and such. Anamaria was busy taking inventory, ticking things off on her fingers and looking rather irritated when Biddy's discoverers tapped her on the shoulder.
"What?" She spun on them, causing Biddy to gasp. She wasn't a Lady at all! She was filthy in ill fitting clothes, with an absurd hat and tangled, horrible hair. Why, she looked like a man dressed in those clothes. Any respect or liking Biddy had fostered up until now vanished as Anamaria's dark eyes wandered to her. "Who in the world is that?" She asked, pointing and glaring at Biddy. As disgusted with the "woman" as she was, Biddy quailed at the look.
"Dunno, she's a woman and you is, we figured you'd know where she came from, and such."
"What GREAT logic, Pib." Anamaria remarked, rolling her eyes when Pib beamed at what he believed to be a compliment. "Either of you try asking her where she's from?"
"St. George. And I wanna go back!" Biddy piped up nervously, clinging to the hem of her own skirts.
"Oh hell," Anamaria muttered, thundering to the captain's quarters and pounding on the door. "Captain Sparrow! Captain Sparrow get your lazy no good self out here!" She yelled, making Biddy jump again, and start crying. Everyone was so mad.
Jack, blinking from sleep and opening the door in a sort of daze, took one look at Anamaria's face and shut the door again.
"OPEN IT RIGHT NOW!" She roared with enough fury to make a lion start. Jack opened the door, sighing.
"Look, if it's about us almost out of rum..." he began, looking at her uneasily.
"Just take a look at what the cats dragged up." Jack's eyes widened and he rubbed them a few times as he stared disbelievingly at Biddy, who was still crying. For her part, she tried to hide even more. He was SCARY.
"Where'd it come from?" He asked, still staring at her.
"St. George."
"How'd you get on the ship?" Jack asked the now sobbing child.
"The...the gangplank....children...teasing...I...I-"
"WHO LEFT THE GANGPLANK DOWN?" Anamaria shouted again, startling Biddy into fresh shrieks and sobs, and causing Pib and his companion to wisely step away.
"Well, we were all too drunk to get on any other bloody way." Jack reasoned.
"This is what happens when you leave a parrot in charge, Captain Sparrow. Now we're stuck with her!"
"In his defense, Mr. Cotton's parrot was told to warn us if threatening persons came aboard the Pearl. This is hardly a threatening person. He was doing his job." Jack pointed out.
"I don't care. We have to take her back unless we want a bloody armada after us."
"It's only a little person. They float when they're small, don't they? Toss it overboard, it'll go back to shore." This caused more sobbing, and Jack backed up a few steps from Biddy, eyes wide in puzzlement.
"Look at her. She's rich, the silk, the leather choker, I bet it has her family surname on it." Anamaria said, pointing to the choker around Biddy's neck. To Biddy's utter fright, Jack leaned in for a closer look at the small, circular silver piece imbedded in the center which indeed was scrawled with the word "Duggleby".
"Bloody hell, Duggs!" Jack exclaimed with a laugh. "That's the fleet we got all that nice cinnamon from. Was great on the bread and all too." He added with another reminiscent chuckle.
"Great. So if they DO come after us, he knows you've stolen from him before. This just gets better. They'll cry 'kidnap' and it's all over for us."
"Now, why don't we just send her out to the nearest colony? I already forget where St. George is, so we'll just put her among the nearest people we come to."
"You forget where St. George is?" Anamaria asked in disbelief.
"Prefer to. Don't wanna go that way again. I know where Tortuga is, though." He said with a nod. "St. George is one of those fancy places. Good drink, but much too stuffy. Tortuga's better."
"Well, what are we going to do about the stowaway?" Anamaria queried wearily. Jack shrugged.
"You look after her. She's a girl, you are too. No offense, but you are." He added, his hands up defensively against any attack. "So, take her and soothe her or whatever it is you do, while I work out a plan, savvy?" And before Anamaria could object, Jack had gone back into his room, wisely locking and bolting the door this time.
Anamaria was left standing high and dry, looking hopelessly at a sobbing Biddy. "Oh, this will just be one BIG barrel of laughs." She muttered to herself, taking the girl's limp wrist and leading her belowdecks with leaden steps.