DISCLAIMER: Disney owns everything, except the fictional character
named Mick in this story.
TEASER: Jack Sparrow rescues a man from drowning and takes him in.
But does he know what this stranger really wants??
THE HUNT FOR THE COMPASS - CHAPTER I
Jack Sparrow was yelling out commands to the crew as they hauled the
redhaired man out of the angry sea. As the half-drowning man clung
on the rope which had been thrown down to him from the railing, Jack
looked at Will Turner with a skew smile:
"He looks rather odd… has to be Scandinavian, ay?", he said as he
put an arm around Turner, staring at the fighting Viking-look-a-like
who was now being pulled over the railing of the Black Pearl. He
landed with a wet splash on the deck, his red hair covering his
face, coughing up sea water. Will made a grimace at the sight and
looked at Sparrow from the corner of his eye. Jack sat himself down
with crossed legs in front of the saved man:
"I'd like to hear a thanx', mate", he said and wiped the soaked
hair away from the man's pale face.
"How did you end up in the water anyways?", Sparrow asked as he
revealed his gold- and silver teeth in a curious laugh. The
shipwrecked man managed to look up at him, obviously confused and
half-delirious from the massive intake of water:
"Our ship was attacked… I managed to get… out of there… everyone is…
gone… including the ship", the man said and coughed again, splashing
a small jet of water right in the face of Jack Sparrow – who made a
disgusted sound as he wiped his dirty face with the back of his
"What's you name, mate?", Jack asked and cocked his head, staring at
the Viking, which he had already named him in his mind.
"Mick… Mick Kristiansen", the man said and grabbed Sparrow's hand as
he offered it to him. Even though Sparrow was a strong man he had a
little trouble managing to pull Mick up on his wobbling feet.
"Ay… I'm Captain Jack Sparrow… welcome aboard the Black Pearl!",
Jack said with a laugh and clapped Mick's broad shoulder. This only
caused him to cough again as he stared at the captain with both
confusion and fear in his eyes. The Black Pearl? Could this be
"And this is William Turner", Sparrow continued as he pulled Will to
his side. Turner immediately stuck out his hand:
"Pleased to meet you… ", he said as Mick shook his hand.
"Likewise… and thanx", he said as he looked at Sparrow.
"No problem, mate", was Jack's response as he seemed to play with
something that looked like an old compass. Mick's eyes widened. That
was it!! Of course he hadn't told them that he had been on one of
the Company's ships… to get just that little compass. He had seen a
drawing of it… it matched. He had no idea what the governor wanted
with that silly little thing… but none the less Mick wouldn't have
to hang. That was IF he managed to get the compass.
"Looking at this, mate?", Jack suddenly asked as he had noticed how
Mick's green eyes were more than just focused on the little box.
Mick immediately removed his glance and smiled innocently:
"Oh, I was just admiring your little… thing. Haven't seen one of
those before", he said and looked at Will who now had an odd,
suspicious look in his dark eyes.
"Well, that isn't so weird. It's a special little thing", Jack said
and put it inside his dirty shirt as he spat over the railing. That
compass would be hard to get… word said that Sparrow always kept it
with him. Never left it out of his sight. Well, Mick HAD to get it
somehow… at night… when the captain was asleep. He couldn't believe
his luck. Picked up by the legendary captain of the Black Pearl….
This was almost too good to be true. As these thoughts raced through
his brain, Jack suddenly let his hand smack down on Mick's shoulder
with a loud and wet sound, which kind of brought Mick back to the
"So whatta ya say, mate? Some dry clothes might be in order?
Savvy?", Jack grinned and cocked his head, staring a the red-haired
Viking. Mick's green eyes brightened:
"Oh.. oh, yes, that would be nice… thank you!", he said as Turner
gestured for Mick to follow him.
"Welcome, Scandinavia fellow! Feel right at home… at… sea…
whatever!", Jack spat out and put a rum bottle to his lips as he
kind of swayed back and forth. Mick couldn't help but smile as he
followed Will Turner across the deck, which quirked lightly under
"It's right this way, follow me", Will said as he opened the hatch
which led below deck and started walking down the tiny, slippery
steps. Mick followed the best he could, however his huge feet didn't
really fit the steps and he almost tripped a couple of times.
"Easy there", Will smiled as he grabbed a oil lamp hanging on the
wall and continued walking past the cannons and kind of smelly
cabyss. They soon reached a small room with a metal bed bunk covered
with hay and a porcelain pot to piss in.
"Fancy", Mick mumbled and looked at Turner who just smiled. He then
bent down and grabbed something from under the bed bunk – Mick
immediately tensed up. A gun? A sword? He had heard of Turner's
fighting skills… what if his intentions had been revealed somehow?
Mick swallowed as Turner stood back up and turned around towards him:
"Here you go!", Will said and pushed a bundle of dry clothes into
"Th.. thank you!", Mick stuttered and he hated himself for it, but
he had been more than just nervous. Will cocked his head a bit and
"You're an odd fellow… well, get dressed and go to sleep… it's going
to be a stormy night and it's already late", he said and turned his
back to Mick and left the room. Mick just looked from the door to
the bundle of clothes in his arms… and back. Oh well, he was
freezing anyway…. He started to take of his wet shirt. Wasn't as
easy as it would seem, because the salty seawater made it stick like
glue to his pale skin. He finally got it off and it landed on the
plank floor with a splat'. Goosebumps had formed all over his skin
and his nipples were almost aching from the cold. Quickly he started
to unbuckle his belt and spent around one whole minute working on
getting his trousers off. Finally he stood there naked and…
"By the way….!!", Jack's voice boomed as he came around the corner –
"Oh… that's… admirable…", he said and pointed towards Mick's lower
region as he intensely focused on the ceiling and drank some more
rum. He had never seen that size before.
"Gotta be a viking thing…", Jack mumbled to himself as Mick covered
his noble parts with the bundle of clothes.
"You were saying, captain?", Mick said, his voice shaking from both
the surprise and the cold.
"Oh, just wanted to ask how you get that hair colour?", Jack said
almost incoherently. Mick frowned as he looked at Jack who was STILL
staring at the ceiling.
"Umm… it's… a Scandinavian thing. You're born with it", Mick said,
looking like one big question mark. The legendary Captain Jack
Sparrow was definitely an interesting, if not weird, persona.
"Oh…", Jack merely said and took another big slurp of the rum. There
was silence for around 30 seconds. Mick had started to shake all
over his body.
"Umm, Captain, I would like to get dressed now…?", he said in a
"Oh….. OH! Yes! Of course! Sorry to have disturbed you, Mr. Kri…
Kria… Kris… Mr. Krist! Or.. Yes, I will leave you now", Sparrow said
and turned around on his heels – not very gracefully – and
disappeared around the corner. Mick just stood there, baffled,
curling his toes just to try to forget about the stabbing cold. Then
he shook his head and threw the bundle of clothes down on the
haystack called a bed and started sorting it. He quickly found a
white cotton shirt and forced it down over his head, covering his
upper body with it. Then he found some brown leather pants and put
one foot through one of the legs… then the other… however he hadn't
contemplated the scientific fact that wet and leather do NOT go
together. As he tried to pull the pants up – they stuck to him like
glue just above his knees.
"Damn it!", he burst out and grabbed the lining of the leather
pants, pulling frantically. The pants slooowly slipped further and
further upwards, but it was indeed a struggle. Viking versus wet
leather pants. Finally he managed to get the pants up to his waist
line and closed them with the silver buttons. He then let out a
satisfied sigh and let himself fall down on the hay.
"Av for sa…", he started, but then decided not to finish the
sentence. The hay was pricking him everywhere… but he was lucky to
be alive. And even more lucky to actually be aboard the Black Pearl!
Now he just had to wait until the captain had fallen asleep… and
then somehow get the compass, steal one of the rescue boats AND get
away from this ship unnoticed. But how on earth was he going to do
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