Ten Tales: Tale I
Title: Ten Tales: Tale I: The Boy Who Lived in a Shell
Author: berne
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Tale I: Jack, Bill.
Full disclaimer/AN: Here
Summary: Bill could tell tales of Jack Sparrow that would quiet the most rowdy of children, satisfy the most demanding of whores and silence a whole Tortugan tavern. Ten Jack-and-Bill tales, beginning with their first meeting and ending with the mutiny.
Previous Parts:
Prologue
Tale I: The Boy Who Lived in a Shell
Bill had been a lad of uncertain years at the time, the son of a sailor and a whore, and he had taken to his favourite pastime: exploring the rock pools of the Forgotten Bay, daring to venture into the hollows of the cliff face.
He found Jack there, secreted away in a cave which had, somehow, after all these years, managed to escape his notice. It echoed with the wash of the sea and Jack had not been sitting on the scoured-smooth rock floor, but inside a shell the size of a house.
The shell was rather conspicuous and Bill wondered how he had never spotted it before. Not only did it tower above him, but even in the dim light he could tell that it was decorated with alternating strips of orange and black. He had never before seen a shell coloured like the beasts rumoured to haunt the Indian jungle, and he admired it.
Clambering up the side of the shell was difficult; its surface was slippery and there was little to hold onto. He managed to drag himself up halfway, jamming his toes into the indents of the shell's pattern, but still would have fallen had not a pair of hands seized him under his armpits and hauled him upwards. He was deposited on the shell's top in an undignified heap and had to scramble to keep from slipping off the other side, into the blackened entrance of the shell.
His rescuer, he saw when he had caught his breath, was a boy no older than himself, with dark hair and dark eyes and skin as dark as a sailor's. They eyed each other for a moment in silence before Bill's curiosity got the better of him.
"Do you live here?" he asked, running a hand along the pearl-smooth shell. Truthfully, he could not imagine that anyone could survive in a shell, especially when it was high tide, but he thought that was a rude thing to say.
"Aye," said the boy, reaching up and wringing water out of his long hair. "Came in with the tide."
"Oh," said Bill, thinking it strange that he had not seen a boat beached on the shore. He peered at the gaping hole that led inside the shell. "Are your family in there?"
The boy shrugged. "Don't think so. If they are, I ain't found them yet."
Bill stared at the boy, trying to make sense of his answer, then gazed back down into the blackness of the hole. "You've lost them?"
"Truth be told, I've never had them in the first place." The boy tugged his black neck cloth off and unfolded it, deftly tying it around his head. He looked like one of the navy's powder monkeys. "Although you're welcome to have a look down there," he gestured at the dark hole, "if you reckon you'll find something."
Bill could barely contain his enthusiasm. "Yes! I mean, if you don't mind, of course."
The boy slid from his seat and landed gracefully inside the sweeping curve of the shell's entrance. "Why would I mind?" he asked, producing a candle seemingly from nowhere and lighting it using a tinderbox from his pocket.
"What's your name?" Bill landed hard next to the boy, feeling a steadying hand grip his shoulder.
The boy studied him for a moment, dark eyes flickering in the candlelight, then said, "Jack. Jack Sparrow," before leading him into the darkness.
*
"Shipwrecked," his mother said firmly when he brought Jack home. "The shock must have addled him, poor lad."
"Of course," Bill agreed, but he didn't believe it for a second.
***
On to Tale II: The Dragon's Lair
Author: berne
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Tale I: Jack, Bill.
Full disclaimer/AN: Here
Summary: Bill could tell tales of Jack Sparrow that would quiet the most rowdy of children, satisfy the most demanding of whores and silence a whole Tortugan tavern. Ten Jack-and-Bill tales, beginning with their first meeting and ending with the mutiny.
Previous Parts:
Prologue
Tale I: The Boy Who Lived in a Shell
Bill had been a lad of uncertain years at the time, the son of a sailor and a whore, and he had taken to his favourite pastime: exploring the rock pools of the Forgotten Bay, daring to venture into the hollows of the cliff face.
He found Jack there, secreted away in a cave which had, somehow, after all these years, managed to escape his notice. It echoed with the wash of the sea and Jack had not been sitting on the scoured-smooth rock floor, but inside a shell the size of a house.
The shell was rather conspicuous and Bill wondered how he had never spotted it before. Not only did it tower above him, but even in the dim light he could tell that it was decorated with alternating strips of orange and black. He had never before seen a shell coloured like the beasts rumoured to haunt the Indian jungle, and he admired it.
Clambering up the side of the shell was difficult; its surface was slippery and there was little to hold onto. He managed to drag himself up halfway, jamming his toes into the indents of the shell's pattern, but still would have fallen had not a pair of hands seized him under his armpits and hauled him upwards. He was deposited on the shell's top in an undignified heap and had to scramble to keep from slipping off the other side, into the blackened entrance of the shell.
His rescuer, he saw when he had caught his breath, was a boy no older than himself, with dark hair and dark eyes and skin as dark as a sailor's. They eyed each other for a moment in silence before Bill's curiosity got the better of him.
"Do you live here?" he asked, running a hand along the pearl-smooth shell. Truthfully, he could not imagine that anyone could survive in a shell, especially when it was high tide, but he thought that was a rude thing to say.
"Aye," said the boy, reaching up and wringing water out of his long hair. "Came in with the tide."
"Oh," said Bill, thinking it strange that he had not seen a boat beached on the shore. He peered at the gaping hole that led inside the shell. "Are your family in there?"
The boy shrugged. "Don't think so. If they are, I ain't found them yet."
Bill stared at the boy, trying to make sense of his answer, then gazed back down into the blackness of the hole. "You've lost them?"
"Truth be told, I've never had them in the first place." The boy tugged his black neck cloth off and unfolded it, deftly tying it around his head. He looked like one of the navy's powder monkeys. "Although you're welcome to have a look down there," he gestured at the dark hole, "if you reckon you'll find something."
Bill could barely contain his enthusiasm. "Yes! I mean, if you don't mind, of course."
The boy slid from his seat and landed gracefully inside the sweeping curve of the shell's entrance. "Why would I mind?" he asked, producing a candle seemingly from nowhere and lighting it using a tinderbox from his pocket.
"What's your name?" Bill landed hard next to the boy, feeling a steadying hand grip his shoulder.
The boy studied him for a moment, dark eyes flickering in the candlelight, then said, "Jack. Jack Sparrow," before leading him into the darkness.
*
"Shipwrecked," his mother said firmly when he brought Jack home. "The shock must have addled him, poor lad."
"Of course," Bill agreed, but he didn't believe it for a second.
***
On to Tale II: The Dragon's Lair