(no subject)
Well, I couldn't resist writing a little PotC. This is for the current pirates500 challenge, 'Last'.
Last Night
“It’s yer last night, lad. A man shouldn’t be alone the night before his wedding! Here, have a nip.”
Will looked askance at the half-bottle of rum, but then took it anyway. The swallow burned its way down and settled as a warm glow. He looked at the pirate, who was grinning at him from where he lay, just where Will had found him on his return from Mr. and Mrs. Brown’s: sitting on the bed, back against the wall, booted feet crossed at the ankles.
“Thanks Jack, but no more,” Will said, returning the bottle. “It wouldn’t do to be jug-bitten tomorrow.”
“’Liz’beth wouldn’t like it, eh?” Jack nodded, taking another swig, himself.
“Er…you weren’t planning on attending, were you?” Will asked, warily.
“Don’t you want me?” Jack let his expression shift to hurt puppy, until Will reacted appropriately, at which he grinned. “No worries. Even you won’t know me. I’ve a disguise!”
“A disguise? What sort of disguise?”
“Fancy clothes, straight from London! And a bloody great wig-like the Gov’nor’s. ‘s beautiful. Got ‘em off a gent on the last ship we stopped. Borrowed ‘is valet, too. He’s back on the Pearl, waitin’ to dress an’ shave me.”
“Shave! You’d do that for me?” Will stared, wondering what Jack would look like without the elaborately groomed facial hair. It was hard to tell…
“No sacrifice is too great for the child of me old friend Bill Turner,” asserted Jack. Then he frowned. “Leastways, some sacrifices may be too great, but as the nature of said sacrifices is at present unspecified I feel it’s a moot point. As it were.”
“Ah,” said Will, growing more nervous by the second at the thought of Jack at the wedding, disguised or not. He said carefully, “But Jack…what if you’re caught? I mean, it would quite ruin the day for us, after we went to the trouble of saving you.”
Jack smiled in fond remembrance. “An’ that’s precisely why I need to be there: ol’ Bootstrap can’t attend, so it’s up to me. ‘s important for a lad to have a father’s support at a time like this.”
Will gaped a bit. “It’s…ah…kind of you to offer, Jack. Really. But…”
Jack flashed a gold-flecked grin and said expansively “Don’t mention it! ‘s my pleasure-assure you!” Then the grin disappeared. “Your Da’ would be proud o’ you, you know.”
Will sat down at the foot of the bed, his heart feeling a familiar ache in spite of his amusement and concern over the pirate. “You think so?”
“I know it, lad. You’ve done well, an’ you’ll do better! Beautiful wife…connections…an’ the skills of a master swordsmith at twenty! An’ yer a good lad. A bit green, an’ all, but that’ll pass.”
Will chuckled, shaking his head. “I suppose it will at that,” he agreed.
Jack nodded, took another nip from the bottle, then stoppered it with a firm hand. He fixed Will with a serious look. “Now. About the wedding night…”
Last Night
“It’s yer last night, lad. A man shouldn’t be alone the night before his wedding! Here, have a nip.”
Will looked askance at the half-bottle of rum, but then took it anyway. The swallow burned its way down and settled as a warm glow. He looked at the pirate, who was grinning at him from where he lay, just where Will had found him on his return from Mr. and Mrs. Brown’s: sitting on the bed, back against the wall, booted feet crossed at the ankles.
“Thanks Jack, but no more,” Will said, returning the bottle. “It wouldn’t do to be jug-bitten tomorrow.”
“’Liz’beth wouldn’t like it, eh?” Jack nodded, taking another swig, himself.
“Er…you weren’t planning on attending, were you?” Will asked, warily.
“Don’t you want me?” Jack let his expression shift to hurt puppy, until Will reacted appropriately, at which he grinned. “No worries. Even you won’t know me. I’ve a disguise!”
“A disguise? What sort of disguise?”
“Fancy clothes, straight from London! And a bloody great wig-like the Gov’nor’s. ‘s beautiful. Got ‘em off a gent on the last ship we stopped. Borrowed ‘is valet, too. He’s back on the Pearl, waitin’ to dress an’ shave me.”
“Shave! You’d do that for me?” Will stared, wondering what Jack would look like without the elaborately groomed facial hair. It was hard to tell…
“No sacrifice is too great for the child of me old friend Bill Turner,” asserted Jack. Then he frowned. “Leastways, some sacrifices may be too great, but as the nature of said sacrifices is at present unspecified I feel it’s a moot point. As it were.”
“Ah,” said Will, growing more nervous by the second at the thought of Jack at the wedding, disguised or not. He said carefully, “But Jack…what if you’re caught? I mean, it would quite ruin the day for us, after we went to the trouble of saving you.”
Jack smiled in fond remembrance. “An’ that’s precisely why I need to be there: ol’ Bootstrap can’t attend, so it’s up to me. ‘s important for a lad to have a father’s support at a time like this.”
Will gaped a bit. “It’s…ah…kind of you to offer, Jack. Really. But…”
Jack flashed a gold-flecked grin and said expansively “Don’t mention it! ‘s my pleasure-assure you!” Then the grin disappeared. “Your Da’ would be proud o’ you, you know.”
Will sat down at the foot of the bed, his heart feeling a familiar ache in spite of his amusement and concern over the pirate. “You think so?”
“I know it, lad. You’ve done well, an’ you’ll do better! Beautiful wife…connections…an’ the skills of a master swordsmith at twenty! An’ yer a good lad. A bit green, an’ all, but that’ll pass.”
Will chuckled, shaking his head. “I suppose it will at that,” he agreed.
Jack nodded, took another nip from the bottle, then stoppered it with a firm hand. He fixed Will with a serious look. “Now. About the wedding night…”