The Pirate of Port Royal

Chapter 1 - The Celebration

When the girl got up from the table, the man against the wall shot forward, halted by a dirty hand that fell just below his shoulder.

"Wait for her at the bar, they seem to need more drinks," A deep voice played out.

"Yes sir," A much softer, clearly Londoner accent, replied before slipping away.

Avoiding being spotted by the table in the corner, the man strolled over to the bar and took a seat, turning down the drink offer that was made by the barman. And the one by the drunk woman to his right. He shuffled down a seat to give her the memo.

In the bathroom Lydia fluffed up her hair and made sure she didn't look too drunk for her liking, the faint remains of the tears she shed waving goodbye to Elizabeth still faintly on her eyes. Drinking when she already felt so low was not a smart combination, Lydia fearing she'd become a downer if she drank too much. But she also was ecstatic. Her brain was fuzzing into a cloud before she could probably distinguish how she was really feeling. So instead she checked her face one last time in the grimy mirror, shocked she could see herself at all, and strutted over to bar, waving to the group at the table to show she was alright. Jack did worry for letting her walk around alone in a tavern like this one.

Lydia leant a hand on the table and called for the barman, pulling out whatever money she had from her pocket.

"Another round of rum for the table in the corner please," Lydia grinned politely handing the man the money.

"Of course dear yer a pretty one have I seen that face before?" The barman purred, not letting his eyes off hers as he collected the tankards.

"Lydia Mahogany. Probably have," she replied.

The man beside her felt his ears perk up at the sound of her name, turning his head and smirking at her.

"Lydia Mahogany. I have heard that name," He said, catching Lydia off guard with his accent.

Of course she was used to an English accent, Port Royal home to many English natives, but this accent was something a lot different. A pirate with such a prominently gentlemanly voice, a complete oxymoron for how a pirate usually sounds. And he didn't seem like one either, unless someone kidnapped a prince and forced him to dress up. Because he was much more gorgeous than anyone Lydia had ever seen. Apart from Jack. His smile was wide and shun dimples on the sides of his very clean face, a first for the few she'd seen that evening. He had long eyelashes as well, Lydia struggling not to get lost in them. She almost forgot she had Jack at the table, it being hard not to be in a trance with this man. Anyone would, even when the stabbing pain in her stomach told her she should turn away now.

"I hope only good things," She stuttered.

"Of course. I'm Peter," He took her hand and kissed her knuckles softly.

His lips were so soft too. Not only were they perfect, now Lydia had to feel how soft they were. Back at her table Jack watched her, watched that man kiss her like he did. He twitched, wanting to shoot up and punch that man in the face for even touching her. But she was a beautiful woman, any man would want to know her. He couldn't let jealousy become him. This man was no Captain Jack Sparrow. He had no chance with her.

"It's nice to meet you Peter. You don't sound like a typical pirate, if that's too odd of me to say," Lydia said.

"No no. Truth be told even though I'm a pirate, I don't have to dress or act like one. A man should always be gentlemenly," He tapped his fingers along the table "I hear you just came back from quite the battle."

"Oh yes. That's why I'm here. Me and my..." She motioned to the table and caught eyes with Jack, him raising his eyes at her "crew, family. Whatever you call it."