Okay. Disclaimer: I don’t own Pirates of the Caribbean…I really and honestly don’t know myself, but I only borrowed them for a minute^_~ Lananca Anguis is mine and will always be mine…but if for some ungodly reason you wanna use her, just ask me and I’ll prob say yes…dunno why you would though^_^ Well, here it is. My first PotC fanfiction

Chapter1: Tea and Rum (^_^ may change later)

The Pub was dark, only a few gas lamps to see by, casting a faint orange light over the pub and it’s inhabitants. It was bustling with busy and not-so busy people, but it hid her well, and that’s what she loved about this place. The small scrubbed tables, round and rectangular, sat scattered around the dimly lit room. Some were occupied while many other’s were not.

Nobody noticed her tucked away in her favorite corner. That was another reason she liked it here. Most knew her. Many didn’t, but didn’t bother. No one cast her disdainful stares and masked glares as she walked by. No one commented on her choice of clothing or adornments. They merely let her pass not looking up from their bottles of rum or their glasses of wine. In fact, the one’s who knew her would smile politely and mutter words of “hello” or “good evenin’, Mistress.” Because that was her name.

Mistress Lananca Whisteria Anguis.

She tugged on the silver chain of her necklace absent mindedly as she sipped at the strong tea she had ordered. She sighed again, blowing the steam from the hot tea across the white, chipped rim of the cup. She became so bored with getting drunk lately, seeing as that was all she had been doing since the attack.

She no longer had a ship or a crew thanks to the bleedin’ British Army. They had surprised her ship from behind a cliff and practically tore it apart. The only reason she escaped was because her men had opted to fight the army; to go down fighting. She had been thrown off by her first mate and told to swim. But she was the captain. The captain was supposed to go down with the ship. But when a few soldiers heard her clamor from the water below and began firing over the railing, she swam like she had never swam before. She assumed they thought she was dead because the shots stopped once she had gone completely under water and had not resurfaced. She had only swam to the very back of the British ship and latched onto a rope, holding on with a heavy heart as she heard the prolonged fight on her ship, wishing desperately that she could help.

When the British had their captives and had her treasures, they had promptly left with her ship slowing sinking into the murky blue waters of the ocean.

She swore that she’d get her men out of prison, but fate was not with her. They had been executed almost immediately when they arrived at Port. The square had already been prepared with the gallows and soon, only she was left.

Captain of the now bottom-dwelling “Silver Serpent”.

Lana let out a soft sigh and put down her cup and rubbed her temples. She felt terrible. Her men…No not her men, her friends, her friends were dead and there was nothing she could do about it.

The pub doors suddenly swung open, but she paid no attention to the man that staggered in, seemingly already drunk.

Lana pulled the leather overcoat she had on closer around her, as the latest occupant had let in a wicked chilly draft.

Pushing her long scarlet hair out of her eyes, one heavily beaded strand though persistently stayed in front of her ear, she picked up the hot tea and proceeded to continue with her personal musings. There was a small conversation between the man who just walked in and the bartender that Lana didn’t really pay any attention to until her name came up in a hushed whisper followed with a surprised “He’s a ‘SHE’?” There was a clinking of tossed change and the sound of glasses being brought out.

Stiffening slightly when she felt someone approaching, she let her free hand fall to her pistol.

But to her surprised and relief, it was only the bartender, Sam. He gave her a smile that had more than a couple of teeth missing and handed her a mug of what appeared to be ale…or rum, she wasn’t sure. “From the gentleman at the bar.” he said pointing to their new arrival. He wasn’t watching them but was preoccupied in his own mug.

“And who is this gentleman?” Lana asked with a raised eyebrow.

Sam merely shrugged and mopped his forehead with his washcloth. Walking back to his place behind the bar, he took out a seemingly clean glass and began wiping it absentmindedly with the same cloth.

Lana made a face and looked down at the smudged glass mug in front of her. She really didn’t want any alcohol. As she had decided with her purchase of the tea, she was tired of getting drunk.

With a groan she downed the slightly cooled-off tea in one gulp, picked up the mug and sauntered over to the bar. Placing down the mug and a few coins she smiled at the man who took a long hard stare at her. He looked as if he was about to say something to her, but his eyes traveled down from her face to her necklace. His eyes widened and he opened his mouth once again to say something, but Lana cut him off.

“Sorry, Sir.” She grinned. “I’m not in the mood for alcohol tonight.” With that she clapped him on the shoulder and headed out of the pub. “Thanks anyway,” she called over her shoulder, pushing the doors open and walked out into the empty streets.

A moment later, there was a low rumble of thunder. Evidence a storm was heading their way.

~*~*~*~

“Where did you say he was?” The woman he was asking cocked her head as if she hadn’t heard him. “Captain Anguis! Where’s he gone?” came Jack’s slightly accented voice as he leaned casually on a large pole near the port.

The old woman snickered lightly, but said nothing to his question except, “I ‘ear he’s ‘eaded down to the Boar’s Head pub down the street.”

“Boar’s Head, hm?”

“Yeah! ‘He’ always goes there when ‘he’ shows up in port.” The wizened old woman chuckled hoarsely. “But I reckon you won’t need to rush trying to find ‘im. I expect ‘im to be ‘ere for a while.” She shifted lightly, looking at the impressive young man in front of her.

He had jet black hair held back (unsuccessfully) by a red bandana with a number of random braids and beaded tresses lining his tan face. His eyes were dark. His garb was that of what pirates around that area usually donned. Leather boots, black breaches, and a loose shirt. His pistol and sword hung lazily at his side.

“What do you mean?” Jack raised a dark eyebrow, shifting his weight impatiently.

“I mean, Anguis ain’t got no more a ship or crew than me!” The woman pulled her tattered shawl around her. “Ran into a bad lot he did. British Army, the lil’ buggers. Rumor ‘as it they sunk the ship and executed all the crew.” She clicked her tongue. “Poor Capt’n. Well,” she looked up into the sky with a yellow smile. “Looks to be rain. I best be off, Sir.” She inclined her head in a small bow. “I ‘ope I ‘elped a little.” With that she turned and tottered off down the cobblestone street.

Captain Jack Sparrow sighed and looked up into the cloudless sky with raised eyebrows. “Rain?” Shaking his head he started off down the street to find the Boar’s Head Pub.

--

He staggered slightly as he pushed open the double swinging doors of the pub. The doors themselves had a severed pigs head painted on them with the name of the pub in Red peeling letters. Jack surveyed the room hopefully, trying his best to see if he could pick out the pirate captain he was looking for.

Not at all being successful, he walked over to the bar and sat down with a huff.

“What’ll it be, mate?” came the bartender, Sam’s, gruff voice.

“First off,” Jack said, looking up to meet the grubby tender’s gaze. “I’m looking for someone. A Captain Anguis. Know of him?” He raised an eyebrow in question.

“Anguis? Can’t say I’ve ever heard on someone by…wait? Is that the captain of The Silver Serpent by any chance?”

“Right on target.” Jack smiled a toothy and golden grin.

Sam smiled back at him. “Well, she just got in, she did.” He chuckled and wiped off the bar distractedly.

“She? No, no, my friend. I seek a ‘captain’.” His brow furrowed. “Not a woman.”

“You are looking for Anguis, correct. The one and only captain of the Silver Serpent?” He waited for Jack’s nod. “Well, the only one here who fits that description is sitting right over there Mistress Lana ‘Anguis’.” Sam pointed towards the back of the pub, in a dimly lit corner. The woman that sat there was hunched over what looked like a tea cup with waist length fiery red hair that flickered with the gas lamps. She seemed to sit up straighter.

“He’s a SHE!!” Jack all but yelled out. “Gods, I swear…” he bit down on his lip before burying his face in his hands. “All the stories and rumors had him as a man!! They never said Anguis was a woman!”

Sam chuckled. “Never said she weren’t either.” Jack looked up and sighed.

Looking back over at the young woman in the corner he made up his mind, and turning around to Sam said, “Take her an Ale,” he threw a couple of coins on the bar. “And I’ll have a flask of rum…if you don’t mind.”

“No problem, Sir!” Sam said as he turned around and prepared the drinks. He slid Jack’s his, and slid from behind the bar to give the woman hers.

Watching him walk over, whisper something to the girl, and point towards him; he quickly cast his attention to his rum and pretended to ignore them. It wasn’t until the bar tender returned and continue to clean already clean glasses with a dirty rag, that he glanced back over at the girl.

She looked slightly confused. Her single beaded lock of hair obscured her face for a moment as she turned down to stare at her tea. The light made the green beads cast small pools of emerald light on her pale face. She groaned and downed whatever she was drinking earlier and slammed the empty cup back on the wooden table.

Jack pretended to be oblivious and returned his attention to his rum.

He felt her more than saw her approach.

She tossed a couple of coins on the table along with her untouched flask of ale. He turned to look up at her, now getting a good long look at the infamous Captain Anguis. She had dark red hair that fell to her waist in waves and skin so pale she looked ghostly, but her bright blue eyes shown with a life of their own. She wore a similar outfit to his only without a vest and added belts. The white shirt had longer cuffs that covered her hands, and her ripped breaches were haphazardly tucked into loose fitting black boots. Nothing impressive, but as Jack saw it at that moment, the way she wore them made it seem pointless for anyone else to ever try. He was about ready say something when a twinkling of silver caught his eye.

His mind snapped back to full attention as to why he was here to begin with when he looked upon the violet jewel hanging around her neck. It was her. She ‘was’ the captain of the Silver Serpent. That jewel proved it. Once again he was about ready to say something, but she cut him off with a wide grin. “Sorry Sir. I’m not in the mood for alcohol tonight.” She clapped him on the shoulder, and still Jack could say nothing. She headed off to the door with an airy wave over her shoulder. “Thanks anyway!”

With that, Jack watched her stroll out the doors of the pub, one hand on each door to open them together. Not a minute after she left, he heard the unmistakable sound of distant thunder.

“I guess we will be having rain tonight.” he said smiling. With a short laugh he chugged his remaining rum and with a quick “Thanks,” to the bar tender, he straightened his three-point leather hat and headed out to hunt down, once again, the captain he’d come looking for.

-END of Chapter1

There you go^_^ It’s my first PotC fanfic so be kind…well, not overly kind. I would love constructive (CONSTRUCTIVE, people…not “that sucks,” or “You suck at writing!!) criticism! Okay^_^ I wrote this because my muse needed to be sated, but I feet no matter how much I write she’ll stick to this fandom for a while…I NEED her over at Harry Potter though ::sigh:: My SnapeFF fanfic will suffer, not to mention I need more plot bunnies.

ANY ideas for this story are welcome^_^ I love you people.

Review and I’ll put up more^_^