Chapter 1
Title: Captain and Captive
Disclaimer: I own nothing that isn't mine.
A/N: This takes place after the movie. I've never read the books, so...um, here it goes. Enjoy...or else. –Update- Eh, changed some stuff -nods- Yeah, I should have watched the movie right before writing this Lt. Mowett was not onboard the Acheron, he remained aboard the Surprise, so; Mr. Hogg is the new Mowett, lol. If you see any Mowetts in there, sorry! They're meant to be Mr. Hoggs. Thanks. R&R x 10.
Oh, and thank you to Me, Myself and I for telling me revolvers weren't invented yet Kudos to you
1st Lt. Tom Pullings stood upon the quarterdeck of the Acheron, though he was no longer a lieutenant but a captain. It was a windy day, just enough wind to send the large man-o-war at a steady pace along the warm waters. It was hot, perhaps too hot, the sun was high in the sky as it was noon, and was beating down on himself and the crew, making most of the seaman irate.
He turned away, the large ship was no more then a tiny distant speck in the distance behind them. The H.M.S Surprise was sailing no more then 10 miles away, escorting them into Valparaiso Port. He hadn't spoken to Captain Aubrey since he left the Surprise to become captain of the Acheron. A small proud smile crept across his lips, he was very happy; he was in charge, in command.
Eventually; as Master Seaman Hogg came onto the quarterdeck, Pulling excused himself and made his way down to the gun deck and into the sickbay, where Dr. Le Vigny sat in a small wooden chair; reading a book.
He was wary of this French doctor; as he was to all the captives aboard the Acheron. It had only been barely a day since the great American built ship had been captured, and he expected other French seamen to jump out from secret hiding places and initiate another skirmish. His eyes would always wander about the ship, even though there were watchmen all over the man-o-war; he was very cautious.
The doctor looked up and smiled. Not returning the smile, Captain Pullings made way over to him and looked down at the book, before walking past him and into the room that was filled with ailing patients.
"Monsieur" the doctors French rang out and he turned around; Le Vigny was looking at him. Pullings nodded "Yes?"
"'ow long do you suppose it will be until we come into Valparaiso port?" he questioned. Why was he so anxious? Was this doctor excited to be in custody of the English? Though it wouldn't probably be so, he was a doctor, a well known one; he would be put to good use.
"The nightfall after next; we are destined to arrive several hours before sunrise if I am correct" Pulling answered with his back to the doctor, standing humbly with his hands held behind him, a pose that read authority.
"Alright, merci" he said and returned to his book, Pullings looking at him through the corner of his eyes as he turned halfway around. The doctor was reading his book quietly. Every move, ever gaze; filled Captain Pullings with suspicion.
After leaving the infirmary; Pullings walked contentedly to the Great Cabin; nodding at the Marine guard who stood watch as he entered. Flopping tiresomely into a well cushioned chair as he rubbed his temples, he was tired; though he wouldn't admit it, and it was only obvious when he was alone in his cabin.
He looked at the lush surroundings of the cabin surrounding him from the gap between his fingers of the hand that rested against his face. It was very nice, nicer then the Great Cabin of the Surprise.
He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he heard the thumb as sat up abruptly in his chair, legs flying to the floor from their resting spot on the table. His gun was out before he could form a coherent thought and his eyes were darting from side to side.
A thump, he thought stupidly, a damned thump. Thomas; you're too jumpy. He relaxed and let out a sigh; leaning back once more onto the two back rungs of the chair as he tossed the gun onto the table.
But something had caught his eye. The door to a large wardrobe hung open slightly; it creaked and wavered with the flow of the ship.
Curious, Pulling arose to his feet, knowing full well that had been closed when he last looked at it. A faulty hinge possibly? His mind told him so, though his curiosity nagged at him.
Reaching out, he grabbed hold of the door and opened it; peering into the musky smelling wardrobe that was filled with a number of dust covered uniforms. He was about to shut the door when he spotted the back board of this wardrobe, not just the back, but the tiny gab between that and the sides. He reached out his hand and felt the gap; the backboard creaked and moved forward. His hand felt the other side, hinges! He felt the gap and pulled slowly. Not even a second passed as the door flung open not by his own hands and he was tackled by a figure that flew out of the small crawl space behind the back board of the wardrobe.
As soon as he felt the hand on his chest and the force of the tackle at an attempt to get him to the ground he took a step back with his left foot and caught the culprit by the wrists, one wrist of which; gripped a small flintlock pistol.
His eyes widened at the person before him; French, as he alleged, but this individual was not what anyone would have suspected, a women, a young one at that.
He felt her inhale deeply with anger. Her eyes were a wide pulsing green as she glared at him; her pale face was twisted into a sneer, hidden somewhat by the long straight black hair that fell over her face. She was clad in males clothing, officers clothing; a third lieutenant possibly.
"Drop the gun" he ordered. Her eyes became slits as he felt her hand slacken, and the loud thud of the heavy gun hitting the wooden floor.
She looked ill, malnourished. He wondered how long she had been hidden in the small space behind the wardrobe. "Do you speak English?" he spoke after a moment, her eyes hadn't left his.
He felt her wrists tighten with struggle as his grip didn't loosen "Yes" she said, her voice ringing out with French accent.
"Why were you in the wardrobe?" he asked.
"Let me go" she answered quickly, her breathing hadn't relaxed; she was still breathing profoundly, taking long inhales after each sentence.
Slowly, he lifted his foot and kicked the gun further away from them; it slid across the slick floor and under the table.
Gradually, he released her, holding his hands in the air as she brought her arms to herself and looked away, taking in a deep breath as she nervously ran her trembling hand through her hair.
"Why were you in the wardrobe?" he inquired once more.
"Where is the capitaine?" she said, looking up at him with timid eyes.
"Dead" Pullings said flatly.
Her eyes widened and she became a ghostly white, which she quickly masked and inhaled heavily. "I see" she said blankly
He took a step back and held out his arm "Sit, I will get you some water, and some bread"
"Are they all dead?" she asked, he shook his head "No, not nearly, many of your shipmates are alive and well, captive until we reach port"
She nodded.
He pulled out a chair with one hand and made his way to the door "Please don't leave this room" he said sternly "I don't doubt that the marines will be less pleasant then myself" he said as he leant over to pick up the gun from under the table.
As he came to a standing position, his eyes came to focus with the barrel of a gun, his gun no less; aimed at his forehead.
The women held the gun with both shaking hands, her eyes were wild. He held up his hands "Please put the gun down; I do not intend to hurt you" he said; trying not to sound annoyed; as he was, quite.
Her eyebrows lowered as her finger trembled along the trigger. He stood up fully and slowly began to reach his hand towards her "Please, put the gun on the table, there are marines just outside my door, I don't think they'd be too pleased to walk in and find their captain dead"
Her eyes widened, he suspected she didn't expect him to be the captain; most likely because of his younger age. He nodded slowly "Shooting me will accomplish nothing" he said and began to circle the table. She held the gun at his chest and followed him as he came closer to her.
"Don't come any closer" she ordered and poked the gun at him.
He held his hands up further and stopped moving "Alright, what do you wish of me?"
She took a deep breath "Put your gun down" she said and nodded to the table. He obliged and un-holstered his gun. As he reached to place it on the table he looked up at her through the corner of his eye. Unexpectedly, as surprise was on his side he snapped up and grabbed the gun; though she didn't release it; her grip was quite strong. He bent the gun down and held it by her side so it aimed at the floor. He was barely several inches from her face now, as her expression was evident of her struggle for the weapon and anger at him for overpowering her. Though; for a woman; she was very strong.
He held both her arms there as his grip was tight around the barrel, his other hand took hold of his gun and he placed it at her stomach "Now, will you please release the gun" he said, she sneered and let go so the gun hung solely in his hand.
He was expecting her to swing, which she did, suspecting he was unable to defend she swung her fist at his head, which he quickly rose his arm and blocked. Her breathing was more of a wheeze now; it was quite evident that she was in need of sleep and a good hearty meal.
"You're just going to exhaust yourself miss, please; take a sit. I do not intend to hurt you" he said and holstered his gun, keeping the other firm in his hand as he motioned to the seat. She sighed and said something in French, some snide comment about him no doubt and sat down.
"I will get you something to eat" he said and quickly scanned the room for weapons, of which there was none; and made his way out the door. As he shut the door he locked it and popped the key into his pocket. The marine on watch gave him a curious look as he acknowledged his captain with nod and salute. Pullings bowed his head in recognition and made his way below decks to the kitchen.
Title: Captain and Captive
Disclaimer: I own nothing that isn't mine.
A/N: This takes place after the movie. I've never read the books, so...um, here it goes. Enjoy...or else. –Update- Eh, changed some stuff -nods- Yeah, I should have watched the movie right before writing this Lt. Mowett was not onboard the Acheron, he remained aboard the Surprise, so; Mr. Hogg is the new Mowett, lol. If you see any Mowetts in there, sorry! They're meant to be Mr. Hoggs. Thanks. R&R x 10.
Oh, and thank you to Me, Myself and I for telling me revolvers weren't invented yet Kudos to you
1st Lt. Tom Pullings stood upon the quarterdeck of the Acheron, though he was no longer a lieutenant but a captain. It was a windy day, just enough wind to send the large man-o-war at a steady pace along the warm waters. It was hot, perhaps too hot, the sun was high in the sky as it was noon, and was beating down on himself and the crew, making most of the seaman irate.
He turned away, the large ship was no more then a tiny distant speck in the distance behind them. The H.M.S Surprise was sailing no more then 10 miles away, escorting them into Valparaiso Port. He hadn't spoken to Captain Aubrey since he left the Surprise to become captain of the Acheron. A small proud smile crept across his lips, he was very happy; he was in charge, in command.
Eventually; as Master Seaman Hogg came onto the quarterdeck, Pulling excused himself and made his way down to the gun deck and into the sickbay, where Dr. Le Vigny sat in a small wooden chair; reading a book.
He was wary of this French doctor; as he was to all the captives aboard the Acheron. It had only been barely a day since the great American built ship had been captured, and he expected other French seamen to jump out from secret hiding places and initiate another skirmish. His eyes would always wander about the ship, even though there were watchmen all over the man-o-war; he was very cautious.
The doctor looked up and smiled. Not returning the smile, Captain Pullings made way over to him and looked down at the book, before walking past him and into the room that was filled with ailing patients.
"Monsieur" the doctors French rang out and he turned around; Le Vigny was looking at him. Pullings nodded "Yes?"
"'ow long do you suppose it will be until we come into Valparaiso port?" he questioned. Why was he so anxious? Was this doctor excited to be in custody of the English? Though it wouldn't probably be so, he was a doctor, a well known one; he would be put to good use.
"The nightfall after next; we are destined to arrive several hours before sunrise if I am correct" Pulling answered with his back to the doctor, standing humbly with his hands held behind him, a pose that read authority.
"Alright, merci" he said and returned to his book, Pullings looking at him through the corner of his eyes as he turned halfway around. The doctor was reading his book quietly. Every move, ever gaze; filled Captain Pullings with suspicion.
After leaving the infirmary; Pullings walked contentedly to the Great Cabin; nodding at the Marine guard who stood watch as he entered. Flopping tiresomely into a well cushioned chair as he rubbed his temples, he was tired; though he wouldn't admit it, and it was only obvious when he was alone in his cabin.
He looked at the lush surroundings of the cabin surrounding him from the gap between his fingers of the hand that rested against his face. It was very nice, nicer then the Great Cabin of the Surprise.
He hadn't realized he had fallen asleep until he heard the thumb as sat up abruptly in his chair, legs flying to the floor from their resting spot on the table. His gun was out before he could form a coherent thought and his eyes were darting from side to side.
A thump, he thought stupidly, a damned thump. Thomas; you're too jumpy. He relaxed and let out a sigh; leaning back once more onto the two back rungs of the chair as he tossed the gun onto the table.
But something had caught his eye. The door to a large wardrobe hung open slightly; it creaked and wavered with the flow of the ship.
Curious, Pulling arose to his feet, knowing full well that had been closed when he last looked at it. A faulty hinge possibly? His mind told him so, though his curiosity nagged at him.
Reaching out, he grabbed hold of the door and opened it; peering into the musky smelling wardrobe that was filled with a number of dust covered uniforms. He was about to shut the door when he spotted the back board of this wardrobe, not just the back, but the tiny gab between that and the sides. He reached out his hand and felt the gap; the backboard creaked and moved forward. His hand felt the other side, hinges! He felt the gap and pulled slowly. Not even a second passed as the door flung open not by his own hands and he was tackled by a figure that flew out of the small crawl space behind the back board of the wardrobe.
As soon as he felt the hand on his chest and the force of the tackle at an attempt to get him to the ground he took a step back with his left foot and caught the culprit by the wrists, one wrist of which; gripped a small flintlock pistol.
His eyes widened at the person before him; French, as he alleged, but this individual was not what anyone would have suspected, a women, a young one at that.
He felt her inhale deeply with anger. Her eyes were a wide pulsing green as she glared at him; her pale face was twisted into a sneer, hidden somewhat by the long straight black hair that fell over her face. She was clad in males clothing, officers clothing; a third lieutenant possibly.
"Drop the gun" he ordered. Her eyes became slits as he felt her hand slacken, and the loud thud of the heavy gun hitting the wooden floor.
She looked ill, malnourished. He wondered how long she had been hidden in the small space behind the wardrobe. "Do you speak English?" he spoke after a moment, her eyes hadn't left his.
He felt her wrists tighten with struggle as his grip didn't loosen "Yes" she said, her voice ringing out with French accent.
"Why were you in the wardrobe?" he asked.
"Let me go" she answered quickly, her breathing hadn't relaxed; she was still breathing profoundly, taking long inhales after each sentence.
Slowly, he lifted his foot and kicked the gun further away from them; it slid across the slick floor and under the table.
Gradually, he released her, holding his hands in the air as she brought her arms to herself and looked away, taking in a deep breath as she nervously ran her trembling hand through her hair.
"Why were you in the wardrobe?" he inquired once more.
"Where is the capitaine?" she said, looking up at him with timid eyes.
"Dead" Pullings said flatly.
Her eyes widened and she became a ghostly white, which she quickly masked and inhaled heavily. "I see" she said blankly
He took a step back and held out his arm "Sit, I will get you some water, and some bread"
"Are they all dead?" she asked, he shook his head "No, not nearly, many of your shipmates are alive and well, captive until we reach port"
She nodded.
He pulled out a chair with one hand and made his way to the door "Please don't leave this room" he said sternly "I don't doubt that the marines will be less pleasant then myself" he said as he leant over to pick up the gun from under the table.
As he came to a standing position, his eyes came to focus with the barrel of a gun, his gun no less; aimed at his forehead.
The women held the gun with both shaking hands, her eyes were wild. He held up his hands "Please put the gun down; I do not intend to hurt you" he said; trying not to sound annoyed; as he was, quite.
Her eyebrows lowered as her finger trembled along the trigger. He stood up fully and slowly began to reach his hand towards her "Please, put the gun on the table, there are marines just outside my door, I don't think they'd be too pleased to walk in and find their captain dead"
Her eyes widened, he suspected she didn't expect him to be the captain; most likely because of his younger age. He nodded slowly "Shooting me will accomplish nothing" he said and began to circle the table. She held the gun at his chest and followed him as he came closer to her.
"Don't come any closer" she ordered and poked the gun at him.
He held his hands up further and stopped moving "Alright, what do you wish of me?"
She took a deep breath "Put your gun down" she said and nodded to the table. He obliged and un-holstered his gun. As he reached to place it on the table he looked up at her through the corner of his eye. Unexpectedly, as surprise was on his side he snapped up and grabbed the gun; though she didn't release it; her grip was quite strong. He bent the gun down and held it by her side so it aimed at the floor. He was barely several inches from her face now, as her expression was evident of her struggle for the weapon and anger at him for overpowering her. Though; for a woman; she was very strong.
He held both her arms there as his grip was tight around the barrel, his other hand took hold of his gun and he placed it at her stomach "Now, will you please release the gun" he said, she sneered and let go so the gun hung solely in his hand.
He was expecting her to swing, which she did, suspecting he was unable to defend she swung her fist at his head, which he quickly rose his arm and blocked. Her breathing was more of a wheeze now; it was quite evident that she was in need of sleep and a good hearty meal.
"You're just going to exhaust yourself miss, please; take a sit. I do not intend to hurt you" he said and holstered his gun, keeping the other firm in his hand as he motioned to the seat. She sighed and said something in French, some snide comment about him no doubt and sat down.
"I will get you something to eat" he said and quickly scanned the room for weapons, of which there was none; and made his way out the door. As he shut the door he locked it and popped the key into his pocket. The marine on watch gave him a curious look as he acknowledged his captain with nod and salute. Pullings bowed his head in recognition and made his way below decks to the kitchen.