posted by
the_dala at 09:06pm on 14/06/2006 under fic: pirates of the caribbean
::waves:: Hullo. I have all manner of things to relate, but first, I have committed fic off the
potc_dogwatch drabble prompts: triple drabble set (ish; 125, 125 and 140 words respectively, counting subtitles -- it was supposed to be even but Jack would go on...). One prompt per drabble. PG. Implied Jack/Will/Elizabeth. Title from Billy Joel's 'You're My Home.'
Never Be a Stranger
tales
Elizabeth has always loved her pirate stories, and hearing them from the mouths of genuine salted pirates delights her to no end. She can listen to Jack or Gibbs talk until they’re hoarse, for hours on end – sitting forward with her chin in her hands or leaning back against Will’s legs as he combs his fingers idly through her short hair, hazel eyes alight with interest even as she quirks a brow in skepticism. Now and then they seem to repeat themselves, but she doesn’t mind, for no gifted tongue spins the exact same yarn twice.
She whispers the tales to herself, at night when the men are fast asleep and the moon is bright, thinking with pride that they belong to her now.
peas in a pod
Will enjoys the stories too, especially the ones of Jack’s youth and his father’s life, but he finds he can only listen for so long. In much the same way, there are moments when Jack and Elizabeth as a combined force are too much for him to take, and he longs for the deafening roar of the forge and the silence – first companionable and then turned sour as the drink took hold – of his old master.
He comes upon Mr. Cotton in the galley one morning, carving wood in apparent peace, and stutters an apology for interrupting. Cotton smiles at him as he backs away; takes his boots off the empty bench; holds out a knot of wood. So Will sits.
the pirate’s code
Jack never put much stock in man’s law – not men who can buy and sell other men, cut a boy’s ear off for snatching an apple, burn and ravage in the name of religion. But he loves the Code, appreciating the opportunity to ignore it so much that he rarely does so. The Code is at once about every man for himself, and every man for his ship, which Jack sees as every man for every other man since the ship’s what’s keeping them all afloat anyhow.
If he wasn’t so keenly aware of the dichotomous nature of the Code, he might have been surprised and bothered to find himself growing to need two young fools as much as he needs his Pearl; but Jack tries never to be surprised, and he’s hardly ever as bothered as he puts on.
Never Be a Stranger
tales
Elizabeth has always loved her pirate stories, and hearing them from the mouths of genuine salted pirates delights her to no end. She can listen to Jack or Gibbs talk until they’re hoarse, for hours on end – sitting forward with her chin in her hands or leaning back against Will’s legs as he combs his fingers idly through her short hair, hazel eyes alight with interest even as she quirks a brow in skepticism. Now and then they seem to repeat themselves, but she doesn’t mind, for no gifted tongue spins the exact same yarn twice.
She whispers the tales to herself, at night when the men are fast asleep and the moon is bright, thinking with pride that they belong to her now.
peas in a pod
Will enjoys the stories too, especially the ones of Jack’s youth and his father’s life, but he finds he can only listen for so long. In much the same way, there are moments when Jack and Elizabeth as a combined force are too much for him to take, and he longs for the deafening roar of the forge and the silence – first companionable and then turned sour as the drink took hold – of his old master.
He comes upon Mr. Cotton in the galley one morning, carving wood in apparent peace, and stutters an apology for interrupting. Cotton smiles at him as he backs away; takes his boots off the empty bench; holds out a knot of wood. So Will sits.
the pirate’s code
Jack never put much stock in man’s law – not men who can buy and sell other men, cut a boy’s ear off for snatching an apple, burn and ravage in the name of religion. But he loves the Code, appreciating the opportunity to ignore it so much that he rarely does so. The Code is at once about every man for himself, and every man for his ship, which Jack sees as every man for every other man since the ship’s what’s keeping them all afloat anyhow.
If he wasn’t so keenly aware of the dichotomous nature of the Code, he might have been surprised and bothered to find himself growing to need two young fools as much as he needs his Pearl; but Jack tries never to be surprised, and he’s hardly ever as bothered as he puts on.
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