Pirates of the Caribbean: Fate Intervenes

A Plan Interrupted

His back was turned to me, gazing out the window.

"Who founded the Brethren Cou--"

"Morgan and Bartholomew."

"Year?"

"1678 or so?"

"Close enough." He waved an approving hand my way. "And what is the Brethren Court?"

"Pirates from each corner of the earth who protect their region and their fellow Lords from threats on the waters."

His head had nodded through my words until the end, where he stopped abruptly and held up a finger.

"Someone taught you to say 'water' like a Scot. I've fought you on this one from day one. It isn't 'woh-turr'. And if you ever try to say it like Rory, you'll have a force to reckon with. You will not speak cockney, that's unseemly. It's pronounced wotuh." He emphasized his words with a curt, harsh jab of his hand and I gasped sharply before ducking my head.

"I'm sorry, Admiral Teague. It won't happen again." My voice was so shaky and quiet that I could barely coax any sound.

He sighed, pulling down the brim of his hat over his eyes with exasperation and flopping into his chair with the least amount of poise I'd ever seen him display. I could tell something else was troubling him other than my mismatched, pirate-learnt accent.

So, I did the only thing I knew how to. Edging towards the desk, I slowly reached over and touched his arm. He tensed for a moment, his eyes darting over to me and finally softening, patting my hand back.

"Thank you, dearie."

"What's got you vexed?"

"I heard word from Shipwreck Cove." He pinched his nose between his eyes, stressed. "It's my son. He's tried to run off again."

I took the seat across from him.

"Why?"

"He and I don't have the best relationship. He refers to me as the 'man who could be Father', and my mother isn't exactly easy on the boy. He wants to go be a pirate of his own."

I shrugged. "Well, there's something. He wants to be like you. Be a pirate like you."

"Aye, but not with me." he clicked his tongue, now speaking more to himself than I. "Sometimes I'd fancy being there to do the raisin' myself."

It was silent for far too long. "What's his name?"

"Jackson. Jackson Teague. Good ol' Jackie." He bore a smile, which faded quickly with realization. "Though I've heard he's been tryin' to go by something else. Something with a bird."

The subject was quickly changed. "I've decided that you'll spend the next three months with me, then we'll make port in Shipwreck Cove and I'll introduce you to me boy. You can convince him that his good ol' pap isn't quite so bad, eh? Then you can go back to the Wench for a month or so, and come back for another three. We can continue that way until I see that you're sufficiently educated."

I nodded, smiling silently. I was grateful he was going to grant me a visit back to my home for a while.

Some part of me was intrigued by the prospect of being introduced to this child pirate, as well.

Teague's eyes left the window and gazed onto me again. "Perhaps I can start training you to come raid with us. Perhaps."

I couldn't help but let a gleeful shriek escape my lips before composing myself and bowing my head respectfully.

"Thank you, sir."

His stare lingered on me, and at first, I feared of the discipline that my informality might result in, but ultimately he let out a smirk and single shrug of laughter. He looked at me as if for once, since his relationship with his own son was fractured, he felt like a father.

The moment didn't last as long as I would have wished it to.

A sharp jolt against the ship wiped shock across the Admiral's face and launched my head into the desk. Shadows engulfed me as the lamp toppled over, the flame being doused, and I looked at him as he balanced himself against the window sill.

"Miss Stafford! Are you alright?" I had now slid onto the floor, grasping my head and trying to focus my vision. He crouched down and grabbed me by the arm roughly, pulling me into the corner. I heard the door burst open, and the Admiral acknowledged our visitor, alarmed.

"Quartermaster! Status!"

"We just came across a Royal ship on the Spanish Main, sir! It appears they be trying to sink us before we reach safe passage in the Cove."

"Those blasted countrymen... they best leave us alone," He grumbled, looking at my fearful eyes for a moment before turning back towards the door.

"Can you tell what country's colors they're flying?"

"Nay, sir. There's a lot of smoke."

"And what of the rest of the fleet?"

"They were ahead of us, Admiral. I suppose they'll make port in Tortuga before encountering the enemy."

Relief flooded into my cool cheeks, and it was all I could do to rely on the hope I had that Sammy was alright.

The Commodore looked forward, seemingly torn for only a second before snapping his head assertively towards the quartermaster once again to make a final order.

"End this, Quartermaster. You're aware we have the means to do so. You know what to do."

I heard the crewman's voice quake with argument. "Sir, with all due respect, I don't doubt our capability to sink them, but I fear the repercussions. If we sink a federation ship, Admiral, you know as well as I do we won't be able to make port anywhere for God knows how long."

"What do you expect me to do, Master Abbott? Get sunk ourselves? Surrender?" My teacher's voice was unlike I'd ever heard it... it was more clipped, snappish, and harsh to the point of scaring me.

"I won't stand for anything less than victory, Quartermaster. We're the pirates, mate. If you don't agree with my executive decision, you're more than welcome to jump overboard and join Davy Jones. I can order the crewmen myself without you being the middleman."

A long pause suspended on the riveting stare between the two of them stopped time for what felt like hours, before Master Abbott reluctantly agreed.

"Aye, Admiral. I'll give the order." Fear quivered in his throat and I heard the door close behind him.

Commodore Teague wrapped a blanket around me, struck a match, and situated me under his desk.

"Stay here, dearie, and don't come out for anything, savvy?"

I nodded, hugging my knees to my chest and allowing silent sobs to cut their way down my cheeks.

"This is definitely going to delay our rendezvous with both the Wench and my son. My apologies." He bit the side of his mouth with regret and immense disappointment before standing, making his way out the door and towards his stately duties.