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Challenge: Spoils
January 11, 2006

By Geek Mama
January 12, 2006

~ Dark of the Moon ~

“I saw her first.”

“That’s a bloody lie!” Knacker snarled.

It was. And the Captain knew it, too. Tobias cocked a brow and gave his protégé a quizzical look. “That the way of it, Jack? Well, then. To the victor goes the spoils.”

With a roar of anger, Jack’s opponent was on him, and then it was the clash of steel on steel, the thump, pad, and scrape of boots. In seconds they were surrounded by a gawking, cheering mob, but Jack refused to be distracted. He had to win.

And did. Barely.

Five minutes, maybe, though it’d seemed an hour. Chest heaving, Jack stared down at his bleeding foe, and there was surprise on both their faces.

Jack recovered first. He turned to the girl. Pale hair, pale face. Rough hands holding her. For him. They let her go at his approach.

She gasped as he gripped her arm. He ignored it. “Come,” he said, and led her away.

By Eledhwen
January 12. 2006

~ Spoils of War ~

He had never been a soldier, but nevertheless these were the spoils of war. To an untrained eye, mere baubles and trinkets; to him, small bits of meaning, of memory. A bead, pocketed when his mother’s old necklace broke when he was five. A bit of whalebone, gifted by a shipmate. A coin from his first haul. Glass found on a North African beach, smoothed by the waves. From the woman who took his youth, a wooden die, for luck. And tied on tight, so it would not fall - a scrap of timber from the ship that took his heart.”

By Trinity Day
January 12, 2006

~ Apples ~

The apple was soft to the touch, bruised although it had been treated with the utmost care. His crew feared what Barbossa might do to them, curse or no curse, if they did anything to damage his apples. But they had been at sea too long and it was senseless to try to eat anything before the curse was lifted, so the fruit had rotted, slowly spoiling, enticing, untouched.

Still, sometimes Barbossa couldn't resist temptation any longer and he would sink his teeth into the pulpy skin that gave about as much resistance as air might. In happier times, Barbossa would not have spit out it out again, not unless there were others watching, as much as he would open his mouth and let the flesh fall through his teeth (teeth that were still rotting even more than his once-beautiful apples, in spite of everything else). But now, now he would welcome even the acidulous taste he had once shunned. Anything would be better than the nothing he experienced while cursed.

Despite all this, Barbossa still kept the Pearl stocked with crisp, ripe apples.

By Felaine
January 13, 2006

~ The Wedding Gift ~

"Estrella," Elizabeth Turner hesitated, "you've heard of the cave in Isla de Muerte."

Only a thousand times, Miss, her maid thought resignedly; though if you want to tell me again, what's the harm? But this time the story varied.

"I knew Will would be arrested on the Dauntless and I might need...leverage...so..."

"So," Will interrupted his wife, "she filled her coat pockets with jewels from the cave floor."

He poured them from a cloth bag onto the table, their facets throwing trembling flashes onto the walls and the sober faces of the newlywed couple.

"We don't want them; we don't need them," Will spoke harshly. "Any thing we used them for would remind us of that place, of Barbossa. You weren't there; it's different for you. We want you to have them. You've agreed to help us in our new life and teach Elizabeth what she needs to learn. That won't last forever and when it's over, they'll provide you a good start."

"Or when you marry, and you really should," Elizabeth's glance at Will turned him a shade of crimson Estrella hadn't thought possible on one so tan, "you'll have a dowry."

Yes, indeed, Estrella thought; touching a necklace which might have been stolen from a queen. This will buy me any shop I fancy, a horse and carriage, and a different husband for every day of the week if I'm daft enough to want 'em.

Estrella would stay with her mistress/friend while Elizabeth learned; get the girl over the rough patches of doing for herself and her fine man. When that was well along, freedom would be hers.
Eyes sparkling like the star she was named for, Estrella let the spoils run through her fingers; and the jewels of Isla de Muerte came alive in her hands.

~.~

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