stowaway || j. norrington

4

Frances managed to survive her cycle without becoming incredibly sick or being discovered by anyone else. However, the man who did know her secret was watching her constantly. At any moment he could go running to the Commodore and turn her in. But he hadn't yet.

Another few days passed with good weather and nothing much to do other than clean the ship and follow the course Norrington had planned. But she knew that one wrong move would get her sent straight back to Port Royal and locked up forever. So she avoided the man who knew like the plague. She wasn't even sure of his name. John or James, something like that.

Her luck seemed to be running out, because she accidentally knocked over John's (or whoever) lunch of dried pork, stale bread and most importantly, beer.

He immediately stood, towering over the stowaway girl. He snatched her own food right out of her hands and downed it immediately, all while maintaining eye contact with her. He started moving towards the captains quarters, but she crawled over in front of him.

"You can't," was all she said.

"Believe me, I can." Possibly-John growled. "And I will."

"I'll do anything," Frances pleaded. "I just need to stay a boy for this voyage, please."

Maybe-John paused. "Anything?"

"Well, some things, yes."

"Half of your portions for the next week."

"Done." She agreed.

"Do whatever I order you to do."

"Within reason."

"Whatever I order you to do." The man narrowed his eyes.

"Ugh, fine, yes, whatever." Frances held out her hand. He grabbed it and they shook.

The next week was a miserable one. She had less than half the food she needed to stay strong and spent much of her time running around doing John's (she found out his name and she was correct, it actually was John) dirty work for him. He respected her request of no sexual favors, but that was less than the bare minimum anyway. Until he started ordering her to steal from other men. She argued against it, but she couldn't let the Commodore find out about her. It was honestly a miracle that he hadn't already.

So she obliged. She stole from the men. Little, unnoticeable things at first. Then it was the beer, some clothes, things to annoy them. The first request she couldn't go through with was to steal a man's money. She drew the line at that. But to John, there was no line. She'd agreed on anything. So when she said no, he grabbed her arm and dragged her straight to the Captain's quarters. She did all she could to fight him off, kicking and biting and scratching. Anything to at least make him let go. But he never did.

She had nearly wriggled out of his grasp by the time they reached Commodore Norrington's door, but John was too quick to knock, and the Commodore was too quick to answer. He opened the door to Frances chewing on John's shoulder.

"Sir, I think you'll want to see this."

Of course Norrington couldn't refuse him. John had been a trusted sailor for many years, so he had no reason to treat the man with any disrespect. Frances did not stop biting, scratching, and punching. When the three were inside and door was shut, John dropped Frances onto the ground and ripped off her hat.