Pirates of the Caribbean Oneshots

The Gallows

Edward Teague stood with his head high and back straight, looking steadily ahead, dark gaze full of confident defiance.

His wrists were bound and his fingertips were caressing the knuckles of the opposite hand.

He was only dimly paying attention to the obnoxious English-accented voice that was reciting his crimes, the reasons he was currently standing with a noose about his neck.

Below the gallows was a sea of powered wigs, fancy hats and fans, as the aristocracy gathered in force to see a pirate hang.

Teague's eyes flickered to his wrists.
His lacy shirt cuffs hid his brand, but they knew it was there.
They knew by his family name and reputation.

As he stood watching the crowd, a vivid splash of colour caught his eye.
A head of loose auburn hair stuck out among the white wigs and fancy ladies updos.

Teague tracked it's path as it's owner moved slowly towards the front of the crowd.
Sunlight bounced off something shiny :- a Celtic pendant, flashed at him twice.
He smiled very slightly, twisting his hands a little so the light caught on a ring on his finger, flashing back twice.

"For these crimes, you have been sentenced to hang by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your-"

The man who had been reciting Teague's crimes was cut off abruptly, a slight gargle coming from between his lips as his throat was slit.

He fell forward to reveal a woman, her bloody knives still raised, a slight smile on her lips.
"God would have no mercy on ye Edward Teague an' I've no sympathy for the Devil."

The hangman, recovering from his shock, jerked the lever.

One slash of the woman's knives and he was dead too, but that did nothing to stop the fact that Teague's neck would break when the rope pulled taut.

For several terrifying seconds, he fell, his eyes closed, bracing himself for a death that never came.

Instead he was greeted by a flash of pain in his feet and ankles as they hit something hard.

Teague slowly opened his eyes.
He wasn't dead.

He was standing on a wooden box several inches below the hole in the gallows, the noose still around his neck.

The severed end of the rope landed next to him.

"Time to go," said his rescuer, dropping lightly down beside him. She wiped her knives clean before slipping them into the scabbards crossed over her back.

He pulled the noose off his neck and stepped off the box.

Keeping low, they skirted the crowd, heading out of town.
Once they were outside, Teague looked at the woman who'd just saved his life in equal parts shock and admiration.

"That," he said "was completely fucking insane."

She cuffed him over the head.
"Is that any way to thank someone for saving your miserable neck? I could've left ye there to hang."
Her emerald green eyes sparkled teasingly.

Teague held his bound hands out and she deftly sliced the rope.
He pulled her into a hug. "Thank ye Soracha, that was too close for comfort."

She returned his hug.
"That's what friends are for Edward, an' I'd be a pretty lousy crewmember if I let me captain die without at least tryin' to prevent it."

"I notice nobody else came with you," he said, raising an eyebrow.

"The men didn't particularly care an' ye know Sahara couldn't come into a crowd of men, so that left me to come alone. Now let's get the fuck out of here."

Teague nodded, following Soracha back to where the Misty Lady was docked.

The crew were all assembled on deck but hurried back to their duties when they saw their captain approach.

He rolled his eyes, going to his cabin to retrieve his scarlet frock coat, which he slipped on before hanging his baldric over his shoulder and tucking his pistols into his sash.

Setting his feathered bicorn onto his head, he walked back out onto deck.

"Raise the anchor an' get the sails up."

"Aye captain!"

Teague crossed to the helm, hands settling on the wheel as his gaze swept over the deck, checking all was in order.

The sails were soon up and the Misty Lady moved out of the harbour and back to open sea as Teague guided her with an ease that spoke of practice and the love he had for the ship.

Soracha wandered over to lean on the railings, a bottle of whiskey dangling from her fingers.

He tilted his head to beckon her and she crossed to his side.
"Thank ye."

"You've already said that," said Soracha, waving an airy hand before raising the bottle to her lips.
"An' as I said, that's what friends are for."

She looked him over, eyes slightly narrowed.
"You're not hurt are you?"

Teague shook his head.
"I'm fine. Very much relieved my neck is still intact."

Soracha grinned, passing him her whiskey bottle.
"Where are we headin'?"

He took a sip of whiskey.
"To just outside London. About a day's sailing from here because the wind ain't great at the moment. I'm goin' to see cousins of mine."

"You're goin' to London?" Soracha asked, raising an eyebrow as she retrieved her whiskey bottle.
"You'll need to clean up. Shave 'cause you're stubbly."

Teague ran a thumb over his jaw.
"Aye, I am. An' I'll clean up. I'll have to, cause me cousin'll probably drag me to some kind of dance, which'll involve hiding me brand an' looking respectable, meaning I'll have to shave too."

Soracha grinned.
"I'll have to see you all cleaned up,  cause I honestly can't picture ye in formal clothes."

"In all the time you've known me, you've never seen me dressed up?" he asked.

She shook her head.
"Nah, not that I can recall."

"Well I'll let ye see me in London then. Until then, stop distractin' me when I'm supposed to be steerin'."
Teague grinned, dark eyes playful.

Soracha grinned back, then tilted her head.
"You weren't really as confident as you wanted people to believe when you were on the gallows."

He raised an eyebrow.
"What makes ye say that?"

"You rub your knuckles when you're nervous."

Teague chuckled.
"Only you know me well enough to know that." 

Soracha nodded.
"That's true. Anyway, as much as I enjoyed preventing your hanging, I've got work to do."

"An' I have a ship to steer, so quit distractin' me," Teague retorted playfully.

She grinned, disappearing below deck.

He turned his gaze on the sea, appreciating it's beauty as he wondered what London would bring.