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Pirates of the Carribean - Goddess help me, I only ever get to Chapter Three [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
Goddess help me, I only ever get to Chapter Three

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Pirates of the Carribean [Aug. 3rd, 2006|01:59 am]
Goddess help me, I only ever get to Chapter Three


[mood |contentcontent]
[music |Jane's video game music]

Title: In the Spider’s Parlour
Author: Penny Elizabeth
Fandom: Pirates of the Carribean
Pairing/Characters: Barbossa/Tia Dalma
Word Count: 1205
Rating: PG
Summary: A missing moment after Jack leaves the cottage
Disclaimer: The Mouse owns all.
Special Thanks: To Geoffrey Rush for being so damn hot.

Notes: Written last week for piratechallenge, the fic had to contain a candle, a secret and a debt. It was also supposed to have a first time promp, but I'm new to this whole challenge thingie, so I'm not quite sure I got it right. Meh- won third place anyway! I bet I'd have won first if there was slash in it...

Spoilers for Dead Man's Chest

Captain Barbossa grinned to himself - it wasn’t the first time- and he never expected it to be that last- that he would enjoy hearing the fateful twistings and turnings of Jack Sparrows life.

“So there you are again Jack, it’s been a while…” he whispered, both to the monkey looking to share his apple and the pirate in the other room who couldn’t hear him. It seems that every time you show up, my ship’s not far behind…”

The monkey eyed his hand hopefully and Barbossa smiled. “Hungry are ye? Looks like Jones isn’t the only one with a hungry pet…” he said, cutting a piece of apple off with a small knife and giving it to the monkey.

So Davy had caught up with Sparrow at last…well, this would be interesting…a debt to Davy was a debt you couldn’t run from, no matter how shallow the water.

He heard the clatter of crab claws on wood and the low wavering tones of goodbye voices, and soon after that the closing of a door. He offered out the apple to the monkey, who took it and ran to the top of a high cupboard.

Tia entered the room and drew the scheming pirate from his thoughts. “It’s the time for your potions now, Captain…” She said, leaning in and kissing him deeply. She straightened up, avoiding his groping hands. Moving to a table by the door, she poured a thick creamy liquid from a bone-encrusted bottle into a tall goblet.

“Magic work first, then you’ll have your loving Tia girl…” she purred, running her hand down the side of his face and offering the cup. Barbossa took it with one hand and grabbed her own with his other. He kissed her hand, toasted her briefly with a look of restrained passion and drained the glass.

The liquid slid down his throat, icy cold and warm as rum at the same time. The feel of it spread through his whole body- even for a man who hadn’t gone for so long without sensation it was heady stuff. His head swam and he leaned sideways, resting his heated temple against the cool silver threads on Tia’s dress.

“Bloody horrible stuff.” He sighed roughly.

Tia placed her hands gently on his head, running her fingers through the thick locks of his greying hair. “It’ll never be a good potions for the head, that’s worth sayin’” she said warmly, “but for all the good it’s doing ye we can move through it, ma brave sailor.”
“I can indeed.” he replied, sitting up again. He set the glass down and shook the last of the dizziness out. Once the initial disorientation was gone, the drink filled you with a desire for everything.

“Sweet Calypso, that’s a curiously attractive liqueur. Oh my lady, I can’t tell you how it feels to have my thirst quenched again, after all those years…”

“Ah, yes? And what thirst are we quenchin’ tonight I wonder?” she said, tracing his eyebrows with her long dark fingers. Barbossa smiled lasciviously. “All of them I hope. I’m a living man now!” he reached out for her again, but Tia moved away from his hands as before. She grinned slyly at his expression of disappointment and lit a smudge stick from a thick red candle by the window. “Well you’re still not yet in the full bloom of life, me captain man,” she said, waving ribbons of smoke in the air. “Him death still got a little stubborn glint inside you…”

Barbossa kicked his boots off and lay back on the bed, dragging his fingers lazily against his throat while he watched the priestess.
“It’ll be a time not too long,” she continued, fetching a small black tin from a shelf, “before ye can fully live as a man. Potions take time.” She finished seriously. Barbossa grinned again.

“Time is something I know a lot about, Miss Dalma...”

“Why you’re not callin’ me Tia after all these months of sharin’ me bed I cannot say.” She said, sprinkling a powder from the tin onto the smudge stick. “Take off your shirt please.”

“Call it honour. Why do you insist on helping Sparrow?” Barbossa added, throwing his shirt off. “Did you not learn anything from your last dance with that one?”

“Him heart got good intentions, he’s more than you givin’ him credit fer.” She replied softly. “Down on your back please.”

“He’s a fool, and there’s no secret in that.” Barbossa replied, obeying.

Tia swung the incense gently across the length of Barbossa’s bare chest. She smiled like a cat watching a bird. “A fool he may be to some, but to others he’s a necessary piece in a larger puzzle. Now quiet down there- the magic need a silent space.”

Barbossa sighed, but didn’t answer. Having a priestess as a lover and a counsel wasn’t all fun and games- she cut though any pretence, making it impossible to wear a mask of pride. Half an hour went by in a haze of smoke while Tia murmured chants and charms that would bring Barbossa’s body back to the Land of the Living.

He wasn’t quite strong enough to walk yet, but Tia assured him that this week would be his last impaired one. Just in time too, thought Barbossa, all this laying around was pleasurable enough, but the salty breeze and the sway of a ship on deep waters was something he longed to get used to again.

He felt a kiss on his chest and opened his eyes. Tia called that the ‘Seal of a heart’- some swamp lore about love being the keystone of all spiritual magic. He didn’t mind in the slightest- in Barbossa’s eyes, a man could never be so rich as to afford the rejection of an offered kiss.

“So Jack Sparrow has finally come to grief with Davy Jones?” he said, sitting up and looking at her with an amused expresison. “I’ll not say I’m surprised- he’d do anything to get out of a tricky situation; bargaining his soul with Jones must have been a side thought to him, a mere trifle of a contract. He always was a piddling idiot-”

‘Jack can handle his own affairs, we know that…”

Barbossa dismissed the idea. “Most of his fortunes occur by accident. Knowing him that jar of dirt you passed over might even turn out to be useful during his course.”

Tia frowned. “So you’re sayin’ I’m givin’ him not’ing of value for his askin’?”

“No no, nothing like that,” Barbossa replied, his hands lazily searching out a gap in her skirts. “Merely that someone of Jack’s accidental good fortunes could make even the most valuable trinket of no consequence.”

“Ah, I’m seein’ it now, you’re heart’s turnin’ green in memory that he had my bed before you!” she smiled, unlacing her bodice.

“I don’t get jealous.” Barbossa stated waspishly. “Besides, I’ve taken things from Jack before, things he doesn’t deserve. My ship for example- Poseidon only knows what shape she’s in-”

Tia placed a finger against his lips and made a shushing noise. “That’ll be enough gripin’ and frownin’ for ye now,” she whispered. “Come into me arms here…”