Tricks of the room of mirrors; unedited Version. Check out page for edited vs.

Chapter 1 part 2: Meeting the Captain.

Just figured out how to get new chapter xo

Chapter 1 part 2

She could feel the sun's warmth against her cheek as it kissed her good morning. She opened her eyes expecting to be in her room, in her bed. Wide eyed, to her dismay she wasn't. "Oh Gosh," She shrieked, "Where am I? God help me!" 

She realised she couldn't have been in a house either because the room she was in was moving, rocking gently from side to side. 

The room was full of things like rope and big metal boxes that looked like they'd make one of those big comical "clank" noises if dropped. There was only one small window that was about the size of a loaf of bread. 

She stood up carefully trying not to lose her footing but the room jerked and she fell into a pile of wood. It grazed against her thigh causing blood to trickle onto the floor, seeping through the cracks in the wooden floor. She removed the the tattered old blanket to tend to the cut, she realised something. "OHHHH GOD, WHERE ARE MY CLOTHES?" She was partially naked with only her undergarments. She wrapped it around her icy body, opened the door and walked out. 

The sun harshly bashed her skin. She could barely see with the light in her eyes but she knew she was on a boat. She heard the sound of the waves raging against the side of the wooden panels and could taste the salt in the air. 

Stumbling around the side of the boat to the outer deck, she found herself in front of about 20 of the grubbiest, greasiest, mutated looking men she had ever seen. One had a missing eye! No eye patch of any sort, just a swollen hole in his face where his eye should've been. Another had festering boils all over his skin. It suddenly seemed like a good idea to retreat back to the room. Some of them were scrubbing the hard wooden floors, some were sharpening knives and swords and the rest were working with the sails. Slowly, one by one they became away of Emily's presence. There was silence. Then a sharp wolf whistle broke the silence and they broke out into scattered chuckles. Emily was aggravated that they found amusement in her vulnerability. She clutched onto her blanket and gained the confidence to speak, "Good sirs, please hand me back my garments and take me back to where you found me." Not respecting her request they all laughed, all except a man who was about as tall as Emily's hip. He wore scraggy layers of clothes and a bandana wrapped around his head. He looked aggravated. "Look 'ere," He grumbled, "You wanna make requests, it'd be the Cap'n you see." She looked around and everyone was going back to their business at the mention of the word, 'Cap'n'. 

"Okay," she replied, "Where is the captain?" The midget walked over to where she was standing. "Over there." He said pointing to the door on the captain's cabin before climbing into a hole in the floor. Emily walked over to the old wooden door and knocked on it. An old, wrinkled man opened the door. He could've been no younger than 60. "The Cap'ns been expecting you" he said. She slowly walked in the dimly lit room and he closed the door behind her. 

It was a fairly large room furnished with cabinets, a 4 person table and a large bed in the far end corner of the room. The walls were covered in pictures and maps. 

Sitting at the table was a tall, toned, bare chested man. His face reverberated with rugged masculinity. His slightly tanned skin blended with his sandy blond hair. Loose strands of hair perfectly framed stubble and wide green eyes. Although he was somewhat good looking, he was certainly not a gentleman. He sat over his plate, slapping his food in his gums. It seemed as though he couldn't get enough food in his mouth at once. "Aye," He said looking up from his plate, "Sit down," He gestured to the seat opposite him. Not wanting to offend the stranger who looked more than capable of decapitating her before she could blink, she sat. He started to snicker. "Nice dress," He took a sip of his wine. 

"It's ridiculously big," He observed a little too seriously. He threw his arms in the air in disbelief, ", just one breath and it'll fall right off her," Smee mumbled but Jack heard him. 

"Let's give that a try then aye," He smirked. 

"Dear-Kind-sir," Emily put on her most sweetest of voice's, "You are so lovely to bring me aboard your ship but I am requesting my return home almost immediantly."

"You know Smee," He turned to the old man, "You have to be really careful for those people who pat you on the back. They may as well just be looking for a soft spot to stab."

Emily ignored the comment, "Well actually sir that's what I want to-" 

"Sir?" the captain cut in, laughing to the old man in the corner. She didn't think he was interested in what I had to say but she continued anyway. 

"Right, well, I would like my dress back and to be taken back to where you found me." He started to snicker, which turned into a laugh. "Sweet heart," he bellowed, "We're miles and miles away from where we found ye, and as for yer clothes, well, they're shredded now." He continued to eat his breakfast oblivious to her distraught expression. "SHRE-DD-ED," she raised her voice and he looked up from his plate again. "Do you not realise how expensive that dress was?" she sulked, slumping lower into the chair. 

"Well," he said. "I could've let ye die!" 

"And the-, Wait, What?" 

"Found ye under the dock, not breathing wearing that bloody thing of yours." 

"Oh gosh, my corset was too tight and-" 

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," He swallowed hard on whatever food he had in his mouth, "Ye mean, people actually wear that thing on purpose. The only people I know to wear those are the ones in Branburgh and their whores. That's just cockamamie, are you a whore?" he smirked astutely as though his proud of himself. 

I was amused and irritated by his lack of concern for my problems. "Smee, fetch Miss, Uh?" He said asking my name. 

"Emily Grenville" 

"Yes Emilia Granton, fetch her some-" 

"Actually it's Emily-" 

"That's what I-" 

"Actually you said-" 

"Alright, alright, alright," He sighed frustrated in the confusion, "Smee, fetch the lady something to eat and some wine, she may need it" 

She sat back up in my chair while Smee, the old man, was banging pots and pans behind me. 

"Well Captain, Sir, whatever I'm supposed to call you- I will be needing some clothes." she said clasping my hands together on the table. 

"It's Captain Jack Bowen of the RS Hangman's victory, named after me old man it was, and by the way, I thought you could really make that blanket work, but uh, if you insist we can see what we can do for you after breakfast. Maybe introduce ye to the crew if ye 

Recovered from the uh...shock." 

Smee placed a plate of undercooked fish and lumpy mash potato in front of me. The Captain, seeing how repulsed she was by the meal, smiled, lifted up his wine glass and said, "Enjoy."