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by Melusina


  Fandom: PoTC    Rating: NC-17    Pairing: Jack/Will/Norrington    Full Headers here and here  for penm and hija_paloma  
  All Round My Hat

James dabbed delicately at his lip, and then stared at his hand in bemusement.  "I'm bleeding!"

"Happens like that sometimes, when you're hit in the mouth."  Jack was busy straightening the crown of his hat, which had been caved in during the brawl.

James stumbled into Will's sore arm.  "They laughed at my hat."

"Mine too," Will agreed, feeling none too steady on his own feet.  There had been quite a bit of ale, prior to the hat mocking and the hitting.

"Nothing wrong with your hat!  It's got a very fine feather. . ."  James stroked said feather, and Will was reminded of how those long white fingers felt on certain parts of his body.  He swallowed hard.

Jack met Will's eye knowingly and said, "P'raps we should find that room, eh?"

Somehow they managed to stumble up the stairs, Jack tugging at Will and James when they faltered.  The door handle nearly defeated Will (a cruel trick that, to put a faulty latch on the door to a private room), but Jack gave the door a kick and it opened easily.

The door was hardly shut before Jack was kissing James and pushing him back towards the narrow bed.  James pulled away suddenly and patted his bare head.  "My hat!" he cried in dismay.  "I left it downstairs. . ."

With a sweep of his foot, Jack knocked James' feet out from under him, and James sprawled backwards onto the bed.  Jack growled, "Leave it. . ."

Will pounced onto the bed, and held James down.  "You'll get another one. . ."

"A better one. . ." Jack murmured against James' lips.

"A bigger one!"

Seemingly mollified, James drew Will in for a wanton kiss and, miracle of miracles, there was no more talk of hats that night.

Chacun a Son Gout

What Will likes is sunlight and shadow and heat, dark hands and pale skin.  He likes the long, lazy afternoons, when Jack spins it out, making them all wait until nothing else matters but this: salty, sweaty skin, and wet, insistent mouths, and James' legs sprawled invitingly, and the little push Jack gives Will, the one that says now.  What he likes best is when James is between them, and they're taking him apart, and his voice is ragged and pleading and desperate, and Jack fucks James slowly, all the while looking at Will like he could eat him up.


James likes it in the dark, when he's never sure whose hands are where, whose mouth is kissing him.  When it's light, he closes his eyes, so he can hear -- Will's slutty little moans, Jack's throaty laugh, the suction of James' mouth on Jack's prick, sloppy and wet and fast.  James takes a sybaritic pleasure in the strain of his muscles and the scratch of Jack's coarse hair against the backs of his knees and the velvety sensation of Will dragging his tongue up James' spine.  The light interferes; the less he can see, the more he can feel.


Jack's not picky.  He likes it fast and slow and dark and light.  He likes the way the sun catches the downy hairs at the small of Will's back, and the way James' skin gleams in the moonlight.  He likes to hold James down til he begs for release, and he likes the feel of Will's teeth at the nape of his neck.  He gets a thrill from rogering the Commodore of the fleet (what pirate wouldn't?), but that doesn’t stop him from letting James pin him to the wall and fuck him senseless.  What Jack likes best is more.

  Fandom: PoTC    Rating: R/PG-13    Pairing: Jack/Will/Elizabeth    Full Headers here and here  for dreamiflame and celandineb  
  And Ye Shall Walk in Silk Attire

Elizabeth listened intently at the door, her heart pounding with the trepidation and excitement that this cat and mouse game always provoked in her.  Down the hall, she could hear whores screaming, customers grumbling, and doors slamming.  "Hurry up, they're getting closer!"

Will fumbled with the laces on the dress he was wearing and swore quietly.  "How the devil does this come together anyway?" 

Razor poised in his hand, Jack wordlessly yanked Will to him and tied the bodice neatly.  He adjusted Will's wig, used his thumb to wipe a bit of inexpertly applied rouge from beneath Will's carmine lips, and said, "You make a pretty girl, love."

"I wish I could say the same of you, but the beard rather spoils the effect."

"Workin' on it!" 

But before Jack could shave, the marines' footsteps grew louder -- they were in the next room.  Through the thin walls, Elizabeth could hear Sally stalling them, but there was no time to lose.  Jack and Will tumbled onto the bed in a confusion of lacy petticoats, and Jack hurriedly thrust his head beneath Will's skirts. 

There was an insistent knock, and someone called, "Open up in there!"

Elizabeth took one last glance in the mirror, hastily disordered her cravat, and opened the door.  At that moment, Will moaned.  Loudly, and in a manner that did not seem entirely feigned. 

The marine at the door blanched and then turned as red as his coat, determinedly averting his eyes from the scene. "My apologies. . .I. . .I'm. . ." 

Will writhed and whimpered again, pitching his voice to a more feminine range.   

The marine's head swiveled toward the bed, and his eyes widened.  Jack, still kneeling between Will's knees, wiggled his beskirted bottom provocatively.  The marine swallowed and stammered out, "That is. . .we, uh, we're looking for a pirate - well, two pirates really, and a young lady. . ."

Elizabeth gave a passable imitation of Jack's smirk and raised an eyebrow expressively. 

"Just the two, er, ladies and yourself, then?  No need to trouble you further, sir!"  He retreated ignominiously, still blushing.

Elizabeth leaned against the door and laughed.  A few moments later, Jack emerged from the tangle of skirts and bedclothes, already tugging at his dress.  Will sat up, looking dazed, and started to loosen the laces on his bodice.  Elizabeth shook her head and grinned wickedly.  "Leave them on. . ."


Elizabeth peeked through the dingy curtains, only to see two lieutenants join the marines who still loitered in front of the whorehouse.  "Leave them on," she repeated, with none of her earlier salaciousness.  "There's nothing for it but to brazen it out."

She pulled on her coat, and with a put-upon sigh, Jack took up the razor.  In a few short minutes a young dandy and two brightly clad doxies exited the establishment arm in arm, smelling strongly of spirits and cheap perfume.

All would have been well, if Elizabeth hadn't suddenly recognized Lieutenant Gillette and cried out in surprise.  He furrowed his brow, clearly trying to place the gentleman before him.

"Do I. . ." he started, but never finished, for Jack stumbled ostentatiously, landing in Gillette's arms.

In the time it took Gillette to disentangle himself from Jack's embrace, he'd identified Elizabeth.  "Miss Swann!" he growled, reaching for his pistol.

Jack dropped all pretense and flashed a golden grin.  "Looking for this?"  The pistol was pointed at Gillette's heart.  "Now then, Lieutenant. . .Gillette, is it?  We mean you no harm -- we're just tryin' to get back to our ship. . ."

"And out of these clothes!" Will added, sotto voce.

"What say you call your men off, and we'll all live to play this game another day?"

At Gillette's bitter look, the marines dropped their weapons.

Jack gestured with the pistol.  "Won't you walk with us, Lieutenant?  It's not that I don't trust you, but I'd hate for any of your men to get the wrong idea."

They left Gillette standing on the dock, shaking his fist and cursing.  Perhaps Jack had gone a bit far, taking Gillette's uniform and making him wear the dress, but the green was quite fetching with the Lieutenant's red hair.

  Fandom: PoTC   Rating: PG-13   Pairing: Jack/Norrington/Anamaria    Full Header  
  Blow, Ye Winds Blow

There was a storm rolling in; the wind was still, but the air crackled with anticipation.  The brackish mud smell that always hung over New Orleans intensified, and the sky glowered, green and ominous and pregnant with rain.

Norrington placed another card on the elaborate tower he was building, as if he had no other concern in the world.  Anamaria paced and watched the empty street below. 

"He's not comin'.  If he's not here now, he won't beat the storm."

Norrington was, as usual, infuriatingly indifferent.  "He'll come."

Without warning, the sky opened up.  Rain pounded on the roof and puddled on the windowsill.  Lightning flashed and the dingy curtains billowed with a sudden gust of wind that toppled Norrington's tower, scattering the cards around the room. 

Anamaria caught the jack of hearts in her outstretched hand, and repeated flatly, "He's not coming."


Perhaps Norrington had heard the footsteps on the stair, because a moment later, the door swung open (stirring the air and causing the cards to eddy and swirl like birds in flight), and there was Jack, dripping wet, and grinning like the devil.

In the end, they were both as wet as he, and they struggled impatiently to strip damp clothes from one another's bodies.  Jack's skin was as hot as a flame and rainwater sweet.  Norrington was pale and cool and clean; a week out from Port Royal, he still tasted of soap and powder.  Together they were gold and silver, the sun and the moon, wicked excess and sensible reserve -- everything a woman could want.  Too good to be true, of that Anamaria was certain.  Experience had taught her that nothing good could last, but for the moment, she allowed herself to pretend that she could keep this treasure and hold it fast.

  Fandom: PoTC    Rating: PG   Pairing: Jack/Elizabeth    Full Header  for marinarusalka  
  Come Live With Me

James presumed nothing; he was under no illusions about why Elizabeth had married him.  He did not go to her, not on their wedding night, nor on any of the nights that followed.  But hope springs eternal -- who could blame a man for wishing that his wife would come to him for the comfort and love that he'd offered, and which she'd accepted, in semblance if not in fact?

Every night, he paced and fidgeted, picked up and put down his novel a dozen times, and strained to hear the sound of footsteps in the passageway, until the candles burned to stubs and guttered out.  She must come to me, he told himself.  It must be her decision. 

When at last she came, the candles still burned brightly.  The lace on her dressing gown shimmered like sea foam, and her loose hair glimmered in the golden light.  He'd thought he'd grown impervious to her charms, but his breath caught in his throat.

"Have I left it too late?"  Her posture was ramrod straight, but there was a tremulous note in her voice.

He took her in his arms and buried his face in her hair.  "Never," he whispered, "Never."

  Fandom: PoTC   Rating: PG    Pairing: Jack & Gibbs    Full Header    for berne  
  Down Among the Dead Men

I'd've been more surprised, if I hadn't already been tellin' myself that no good could come of this business.  Scavenging wreckage is nigh unto grave robbin', and just as unlucky.  But a man has to keep body and soul together somehow, and hunger's a sharp goad.  So there I was, diggin' through boards and trash and tryin' not to breathe too heavy, what with the rottin' bodies and all, when I saw a gold tooth shinin' out of some poor sailor's mouth.  I said to m'self, "Not gonna do him much good now, is it?" and I reached in to pull it out. And that's when he bit me.

I'd be lyin' if I said it didn't give me a turn.  If screamin' could wake the dead, then the entire crew of La Tristesse would be walkin' around today, and that's the God's honest truth.  But Jack sorted it out right quick - 'splained that he'd been knocked out when the ship wrecked, and it was only me pullin' on his tooth that brought him around.

Turned out, it was a good fortune for me after all, 'cause Jack knew where the captain had hid his strong box, and we split the gold in even shares.  And when Jack's luck turned and he got his ship back, I had a place as first mate on the Pearl, which is lucky as lucky can be.  Still and all, that's the last time I stuck my hand in a dead man's mouth.

  Fandom: PoTC   Rating: PG    Pairing: Jack&Bootstrap - Bootstrap&Pearl  Full Headers here and here  for geek_mama_2 & monkeypuzzle  

Eight Bells

Jack closed his eyes and listened to the waves slap against the hull.  If it weren't for the thunderous silence from the Black Pearl, he could pretend that he was snug in his cabin, surrounded by a loyal crew, headed towards a fortune in Spanish gold, and that none of this had happened.  If only he'd listened to his girl. . .

His musings were interrupted by the soft tread of bare feet on the decking and the dim light of a shuttered lantern.   

Bill called softly, "Jack, it's me."

A faint hope flickered.  Perhaps the crew had turned on Barbossa?  One look at Bill's guilt-ridden face quashed that dream.

"I'm sorry, Jack"

Bitter words of recrimination sprung to Jack's lips, but he reconsidered before he spoke.  No sense alienating the one ally he might have.  "No worries, mate.  You did what's right by you.  You have a family to consider."

Bill looked away.  "I. . .I took this from your cabin.  Barbossa won't miss it for a while, and I figured. . .Well, if you. . .It might come in handy."  He slid Jack's compass through the bars.

Jack clasped Bill's hand tightly.  "You’re a good man, William Turner."

Note:  On a ship, eight bells indicates the end of one watch and the beginning of another.

Heart of Oak

A good man.  That's what Jack had called Bill, but he felt like the lowest of the low.  What kind of friend stands by while a man's ship - his girl Jack had called her, and Bill had reason to know that she was more to him than just a ship - is stolen from him?

The wind had died, and the sails hung limp and slack; Barbossa had had to resort to the sweeps to make any progress.  Nonetheless, the tiny spit of land was growing ever smaller.  It cheered Bill's heart somewhat to see that Jack had made it to the beach, and was waving his arms defiantly at the departing ship.

When Bill could no longer see the dark figure on the white sand, he turned away and leaned against the rail.  The wood thrummed and vibrated against his back, and Bill could swear he heard the distant sound of a woman wailing and moaning.  He took a swig from his flask, and surreptitiously poured some onto the decking.  It was a shabby sort of wake, but it was likely to be all Jack would get, so they might as well mourn him as best they could.

  Fandom: PoTC    Rating: PG    Pairing: Jack/Elizabeth    Full Header  for tinuviel_reborn  
  The False Bride

Elizabeth must have been walking in the garden before the execution, for when she stood beside James, her chin held high, he could smell rosemary on her dress.

Rosemary, that's for remembrance.  But Elizabeth was no Ophelia.  She was a cipher, and James had the uncomfortable feeling that he'd never seen her true self, but only a mask that she'd used to manipulate him to her will.  Despairingly, he wished for a crack in her façade, even if it betrayed seething hatred or contempt.  He would possess her, but never know her, and that seemed the greatest injustice of all.

  Fandom: PoTC     Rating: PG    Pairing: Jack/Norrington    Full Header  for the_dala  

The Golden Vanity

The first time a button went missing from James' coat, he blamed his own carelessness.  When the newly repaired coat lost another button, James faulted his tailor.  When a third button disappeared, James examined the threads carefully and discovered they'd been cut.

The next week he returned unexpectedly and found Jack Sparrow in his wardrobe, slicing all the buttons off James' second-best coat and singing, "Button, button, who's got the button. . ."  The mystery was solved when he spun around, black braids whirling away from his head and revealing a row of gold buttons neatly knotted into his hair.

  Fandom: PoTC   Rating: PG    Pairing: Jack/Norrington    Full Header  for elessil  
  I Pass All My Hours

Sparrow was asleep when James arrived at the gaol.  Rather, he was feigning sleep, eyes closed, chest rising and falling steadily, but one hand clenched too tightly for slumber.

James pressed his hands against the steel bars and watched Sparrow, certain that he was aware of his presence. Without preamble, James said, "I can do nothing for you."

Sparrow's eyes snapped open, bright and mocking in the lantern light.

"Pardons are at the Governor's discretion, and Swann's mercy has been exhausted on Will Turner.  You will hang in the morning."

James had not come to ask Sparrow's forgiveness (a ridiculous notion, when the man, no matter what good he'd done, was certainly guilty enough to hang many times over), but under the circumstances, he felt that he ought to face Sparrow.  And say. . .what?  Now that James was here, he hadn't the least idea.  He stood there stiffly, until Sparrow rose with nonchalant grace and leaned up against the bars.  Their faces were mere inches apart.  Some part of James recoiled, but he refused to let Sparrow see that he'd gotten a reaction.

Sparrow's voice was low and intimate.  "Don't worry yourself overmuch, Commdore.  It was worth it."

"Your vengeance was worth your life?"

"I'd like to have my Pearl back, it's true."  A trace of bitterness there, that Sparrow couldn't quite hide.  "But we all die eventually, and at least I sent Barbossa to hell first."

James nodded bleakly, wondering at the satisfaction and peace in Sparrow's voice.  The pirate would die in a few hours, and he seemed perfectly content; James had everything he'd ever wanted, and it tasted like ashes in his mouth.

"Cheer up, mate.  You defeated the dastardly pirates, and won the fair maiden's hand.  What more could you ask for?"

What more, indeed?

  Fandom: PoTC     Rating: G    Pairing: Jack/Pearl    Full Header  for watersword  
  The Lost Lady Found

It's a clear night: the sky is full of sparkling stars, and the waning moon looks like an apple with a bite out of it.  They're racing along briskly, Port Royal and all its attendant complications far behind them now, and Jack is drunk on a fierce and savage joy.  He's waited ten years for this, to stand on his own ship again, to feel her surging forward, and to go where his whimsy takes him.

He's sailed other ships -- chasing after Barbossa, for money, for information, to kill time.  But they didn't whisper to him in his dreams, or respond like a lover to his touch.  They were naught but wood and canvas and hemp, dead things.  Not like his Pearl.

The wind whips his hair into his eyes and blows sea spray into his mouth.  Some say the sea is as salty as tears; to Jack, seawater tastes sweet as mother's milk.  But tears and sweat and blood -- they all taste of the sea.  Jack's shed them all to gain back his ship, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat, to stand at the helm of the Pearl and know the taste of freedom.

  Fandom: PoTC   Rating: PG    Pairing: Jack/Norrington    Full Header    for hannahrorlove  
  My Lodging It Is On The Cold Ground

"That governor knew more than he was tellin'."

"I'm aware of that, Jack.  But I can hardly arrest the governor of Carolina.  If he says he knows nothing about Teach, we'll just have to find him ourselves."

"And who better than a pirate to find a pirate?"

James refrained from pointing out that Jack was now a privateer.  "Just so.  Now, pirate, neither the Dauntless nor the Pearl can navigate this inlet.  We could send Groves in one of the boats-"

"But where's the fun in that?"  They shared a long, conniving look.

Which is how they came to be sailing a small boat in a growing wind, under a flat and leaden sky. 

"Looks like snow."

"How would you know?  Have you ever even seen snow?"

"I've seen all kinds of things I haven't seen fit to share with you, Commodore."

To James' irritation, it did indeed start snowing -- big white flakes that sparkled in Jack's hair and clung to his long lashes.  The wind drove the boat further into the inlet, forcing them to seek shelter until the snowstorm had passed.

Jack found the hole.  It was barely large enough for a man to crawl through, but inside, the cave was wide enough for the two of them to sit comfortably.  The walls were covered with soft green moss and small ferns grew in the corners of the cavern.  James wondered if perhaps there was a hot spring somewhere nearby.

"So you've seen snow.  In England?  Or in the colonies?"

Jack kicked his boots off and stretched out his legs.  "That's for me to know and you to find out."

"What cost knowledge?"

His wicked grin warmed James to the bone.  "Make me an offer, James. . .I'm sure we can come to an accommodation."


Notes:  Edward Teach was the pirate more commonly known as Blackbeard.  Governor Eden of the Carolina colony is thought to have shared in Teach's treasure in exchange for a pardon.

  Fandom: PoTC    Rating: G    Pairing: Gillette& Groves    Full Header  for gryphons_lair  
  Our Ship She Lies in Harbor

"Bloody hell, it's cold!"

"It's not cold, it's merely brisk.  Have some more gin - that'll warm you up."

"Finally we escape that overheated swamp, and we wind up languishing in Liverpool.  It might be tolerable if it would just stop raining."

"At least there are no mosquitoes.  Or cockroaches.  And in a few weeks, you'll be sailing your first command back to Port Royal."

"With my luck, she'll probably spring a leak halfway across the Atlantic."

"Nonsense!  She's the latest design and promises to be even faster than the Interceptor."

"I'll believe that when she catches the Black Pearl!"

  Fandom: PoTC    Rating: R   Pairing: Norrington/Will/Elizabeth    Full Header  for pirouette  
  Rolling Home

The stillness of the bed and the clean scent of lavender on the sheets were disorienting, and it took James a moment to remember where he was.  Three months at sea had ill-accustomed him to such luxuries. 

When he opened his eyes, Elizabeth was at the foot of the bed, in her corset and nothing else, bent over, combing out her hair.  The late afternoon sun slanting in through the window turned it into a cascade of gold, crackling and catching the light with each stroke of the brush. 

It was a sinful indulgence to be in bed at that hour, and James had a nagging recollection of the reports and correspondence that should be dealt with, now that he was on shore.  He should have found his uniform and made his way back to his lodgings, but he was transfixed by the pink nipples peeking out of Elizabeth's corset and the soft shck shck sound of the brush going through her hair.

Somewhere sausages were cooking, and when Will opened the bedroom door, the mouthwatering smell filled the room.  He slipped behind Elizabeth and wrapped his arms around her narrow waist, pressing his lips to the spot between her shoulder blades.  She turned and they kissed, as hungrily now as on their wedding day, and James wondered that there could be room for him in that tight circle. 

They were whispering and giggling together softly and it seemed rude to spy on them while they thought he was sleeping.  James cleared his throat. 

Will started and said, ruefully, "We didn't mean to wake you."

"I should--"

"No!" Elizabeth interjected.  "You've only just got here -- you can't leave yet!"  Snatching up James' coat from the floor, she cried triumphantly, "You can't leave without your uniform."

"Besides, there are sausages.  And apple tart!"

As if on cue, James' stomach rumbled loudly.  He knew when he was beaten.  Grinning, he took Will's proffered hand and quietly said, "It's good to be home."

  Fandom: PoTC    Rating: PG-13   Pairing: Groves/Gillette      Full Header   for firesignwriter  

The Saucy Sailor Boy

"Stand and deliver."

"Andrew, that's not what pirates say.  That's what highwaymen say!"

"Sorry - I'm playing along, isn't that what you wanted?"

Groves sighed.  "Yes, yes.  I didn't mean to be critical."

Gillette adjusted the tricorn hat and tried again.  "Er, your money or your life."  Off Groves' look, he added, "Mate."

"Maybe a little more enthusiasm?"


"You really don't want to do this do you?"

"How ever did you guess?"

"I could. . ."  A coy look.  "No."


"What would you say if I told you I could bring the Commodore's spare uniform next week?"


  Fandom: PoTC    Rating: G    Pairing: Norrington/OFC     Full Header  for shrieking_ell  
  The Seeds of Love

"And these are our newest arrivals to Port Royal, Commodore," the Governor exclaimed, pointedly introducing James to the planter and his three, unmarried daughters.  Swann seemed determined to marry James off as quickly as possible.  To this end, Swann insisted that James escort the eldest Miss Strand (a doll-like creature who seemed singularly featherbrained) in to supper.

James hadn't a clue what to say to the woman, and the awkward silence between them was only compounded when they were confronted with the Turners gazing adoringly at one another, oblivious to everyone else in the room.  James felt a sick headache coming on.

"They seem very happy," Miss Strand said blandly, flicking her fan (a Delft blue, surely chosen to match her eyes).  It was impossible to tell if she knew of his history with Mrs. Turner.

"I hope they will be," he answered with equal mildness.

She gave him a half-smile that betrayed more spirit than he'd seen her display all evening, and her voice dropped to a more intimate tone.  "When I marry, I hope I can find someone. . ."

"Who'll look at you like that?"

"No."  She arched an eyebrow.  "Who I can look at like that."

  Fandom: PoTC    Rating: R    Pairing: Jack/Will      Full Header   for akukorax  

Sweet William

"I've only ever kissed her once.  I just want to be sure I'm doing it right."

"Well, see, it's like. . ."  Jack trailed off, distracted by Will's full, pouting lips.

"Like what?"

"Like. . .sucking on an orange."

"An orange."

"You kinda. . ."  Jack opened his mouth, thrust out his tongue, then pulled it back and shut his mouth with a snap.   

"You should get yourself a girl.  I'll pay for it."

"I don't want Elizabeth to discover I've been paying whores to kiss me!  You said, 'If you have any questions, mate, let me know.'"

The distance between them seemed to have narrowed, and the forge felt uncommonly overheated.  "D'you want to know how to make a woman scream?  'Cause I can tell you all about that."

"No!  I just want to be sure I'm kissing her properly.  You've had lots of experience with women -- surely you can explain it to me."

How the devil had Will's thigh worked its way between Jack's legs?  "It's not really the kind of thing you can explain, mate," Jack prevaricated.  "A demonstration works best." 

Will cocked his head, looking particularly befuddled.  How did a grown man come to be so bloody oblivious? 

There was nothing else for it.

Captain Jack Sparrow did nothing by halfsies.  He kissed the boy for all he was worth, and the kiss was returned with equal enthusiasm and a surprising amount of assurance -- something about that wasn't right, and Jack fully intended to think on it long and hard, except, well, long and hard, and things progressed rapidly from there.  It was only later, when Will was sprawled on the floor of the forge, sporting a sated, lazy smile and nothing else, that Jack had time to wonder exactly who had been oblivious.

  Fandom: PoTC     Rating: PG    Pairing: Norrington/Anamaria    Full Header   for hereswith  

The Valiant Lady

Hippolyta, I woo'd thee with my sword,
And won thy love, doing thee injuries;
But I will wed thee in another key,
With pomp, with triumph and with revelling.

 No man likes to be dependent upon a woman, especially not a virago like the captain of La Sirène, and James was no exception.  But dependent he was, at least until Anamaria returned him to Port Royal.  His misadventure with the Spanish had stripped him of uniform, sword, and pistol, and reduced him to this inversion of the natural order, to relying upon a woman (a woman pirate) for rescue.

It was a piece of luck that La Sirène had happened to capture the Spanish ship, but as the days wore on, James began to wish that Anamaria had left him in chains.  A day in her company had convinced him that the rumors about her and Jack Sparrow were nothing but idle tongue wagging, for surely Sparrow would never submit to be ruled by such a shrew, and surely Anamaria would surrender to no man.  James' dislike of her was only compounded by familiarity; she was arrogant, abrasive, and altogether infuriating. 

James wasn't fool enough to thank God for a hurricane, but at least the storm took his mind off his situation.  There was too much to be done to worry about who was giving the orders, and by the time the raging seas had calmed and they'd limped into a sheltered cove to repair the ship, he had a newfound respect for Anamaria's temerity. 

The storm had given no quarter, and Anamaria had ridden it out with a bravery James had seen from few men.  Even when she'd slipped and cracked her head open, she'd returned to her place at the helm, laughing defiantly through the blood and water streaming down her face.  Not Kate the shrew then, but Hippolyta, wild-eyed and fierce, and in that moment, James had wished for a sword with which to woo her.

  Fandom: PoTC     Rating: NC-17    Pairing: Jack/Will    Full Header  for moonbeamdancer  

We'll Rant and We'll Roar

Will had ever been a loquacious and maudlin drunk. The night Elizabeth married the Commodore, Will had wailed and whined until even the most sympathetic listeners were begging him to shut up. He bore up stoically enough when he was sober, but for months after the wedding, he'd start sniveling after the third ale, and by the end of the night, he'd be recounting his tale of woe to all and sundry, as if they hadn't already heard it a dozen times or more.

But (outside of a theatre) Jack had never seen a broken heart that couldn't be healed by a goodly application of ocean air, adventure and plunder; once he'd convinced Will to sign the articles, Will's spirits seemed to lift. In time, he was able to approach his disappointment more philosophically, and his mawkish inclinations took a different turn. When he was in his cups he often rambled on about friendship and love, and made oblique references to dark, sinful eyes and lush, tempting lips.

Finally, when he was particularly soused, Will unburdened his heart to Jack. He concluded his long and flowery speech with, "You've been a true and loyal friend, and I find my affection for you-"

Jack groaned. The last thing he needed was a young pup mooning after him. "You've had too much to drink, mate. You'd best get to your cabin and sleep it off."

With a lightning quickness reminiscent of his father, Will's mood turned belligerent. "I'm not a child to be trundled off to bed! I've been on this ship long enough to know what men do together!"

Jack muttered some noncommittal reassurance and tried to extricate himself from Will's arms, but Will was insistent, and he soon had Jack pressed up against the bulkhead. Will's gaze was lust-dark and his cock was hard and ready against Jack's thigh. This was no calf eyed boy, and Jack felt desire stirring in his veins.

He had a fleeting worry about what Will would say when he sobered up, but Jack's qualms were forgotten when Will began to whisper in his ear. "I can't get you out of my head, Jack. . .I nearly fell from the rigging yesterday, I was so distracted thinking of kissing you. . .I dream of your hands on my body. . .Of. . .fucking you and tasting you and you pushing me to the floor and buggering me. . ."

They were tearing at one another's clothes, throwing them to the floor in a frenzy, and there was bare, sweat-slicked skin under Jack's hands and Will's fingers in his mouth, and still Will kept up the litany, ". . .I want to feel your mouth on me and hear you moaning. . ." Until, at last, he cried out Jack's name and fell into a sleepy, satisfied silence.

"Is that what it takes to shut you up?" Jack asked wryly, once he'd recovered his breath.

Will grinned. "I'd be a fool to say no, wouldn't I?"

  Fandom: PoTC    Rating: R   Pairing: Jack/Elizabeth   Full Header   for scribbling_elf  

When The King Enjoys His Own Again

In the cramped brig, Elizabeth could feel the heat radiating off Jack's body.  The fever was getting higher, although she'd stripped him to his breeches and sponged his face and chest with the rum from his flask.  He'd assured her he had a plan, but damned if he'd told her what it was, and his reticence might well cost them both their lives.  At least their captors had not yet realized she wasn't the boy she'd disguised herself to be.

Overhead, they reveled drunkenly.  The noise roused Jack from his slumber and he sat up, blinking fever-bright eyes.

"How's your arm?"

"Hurts."  He made a warding gesture with his hands.  "Don't think you're going digging in there again.  Whatever's left in the wound is stayin' in."  With that he took the flask from her and upended it into his mouth.

Neither of them spoke for a while, then Jack said, conversationally, "Smells like snakes in here."

"I don't want to know how you know that."

He ignored her and continued, in a sing-song voice, "Medusa, Medusa, let down your hair."  He stood, pushing her away.  "You'll not catch me that easy."

There was no reasoning with him when he got like this.  "Shhh Jack, sit down."

His legs collapsed beneath him and he slid gracelessly to the decking.  He peered at her through the gloom.  "You're not a woman -- you're but a lad!"  He leered.  "Serve the same purpose though, if you've a mind. . ."

This was horrible.  In desperation, she dumped the meager water supply on his head.  He shook his head like a dog, and some of the delirium receded from his face.  "Thanks, love."  Curtly, he added, "Rest - it's gettin' late."

She didn't ask how he could tell, but stretched out next to him, at war with herself.  She'd fought not to care for anyone after Will's death, and not to care for this man in particular, who was heartache if she'd ever seen it.  Especially now, when he looked to be closer to the grave with every hour.  She held herself rigid in the narrow space, not touching him, listening to the rhythm of his breath.  Almost against her will, she reached out and took his hand, lightly rubbing her thumb over his rings.  Sleep overtook her. 

The next thing she knew, there was a thundering sound, and Jack was shaking her awake.  "What'd I tell you!  Hear that?  It's the Pearl!"

Was this more confusion or could he be trusted?  She daren't hope.  The cannon fire stopped, and then, through the screams and cacophony of battle, she heard Anamaria, grim and satisfied.  "Fuck you, you bastard."

In her excitement, Elizabeth grabbed Jack and kissed him full on the mouth, tasting rum and heat and danger.  He returned the kiss, gently.  His tongue darting teasingly, he nipped at her bottom lip, and then he pulled back and smacked her bottom.  "More of that later," he promised, with a very sane gleam in his eye.

  Fandom: PoTC    Rating: R    Pairing: Anamaria      Full Header   for lanthano  

The Women All Tell Me

Jack Sparrow was long gone when Anamaria realized it'd been two months since she'd bled.  Not enough that he'd sweet-talked his way into her bed and stolen her Jolly Mon, he'd also left her a reminder of what a fool she'd been.  But she'd not be run aground like that. 

Pennyroyal tea three times a day. Then she cramped and bled.  So much, she thought she might die, and even then she didn't regret it.  But eventually the bleeding stopped, and a month later, she bled again, as she had before.  "There," she said defiantly, "I'm done with him now."


Notes: Pennyroyal is a toxic herb that has been used as an abortifacient.


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