?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Fic: The Pirates of Boeshane Chapter 2/16

Title: The Pirates of Boeshane: The Curse of the Myfanwy
Fandoms: Torchwood/Doctor Who
Pairings/Characters: Jack/Ianto, Tommy/Tosh, past John/Jack, one-sided John/Ianto, Owen, Kathy, Gwen, Mickey/Jake, Harold Saxon, Rhys/Andy, Martha, James Harper, Ross, Rory, brief mention of the Doctor/Rose, Donna
Author: backrose_17
Prompt: The Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl
Summary: A Pirate Captain seeking to reclaim what was stolen from him joins forces with a young Blacksmith seeking to rescue his kidnapped best friend. Together they find more than just the adventures of their journey.
Rating: PG-15
Disclaimer: I do not own Torchwood or Doctor Who.
Beta: royalladyemma
Written for Reel_Torchwood Round 5

Chapter 2


The Governor's Mansion

The Boeshane Peninsula

Toshiko Sato-Saxon’s eyes snapped open and she couldn’t help but wonder what had caused her to dream of the night she’d met her dearest friend, Ianto Jones. She never expected the boy that she’d help to rescue would come to mean so much to her but Ianto was the only person who didn’t treat her differently just because her father was the Governor. Ianto was the only person in all of Boeshane to treat her as Tosh and not as Toshiko Sato-Saxon, the daughter of the Peninsula’s sitting Governor.

Knowing that there was no point in trying to get any more sleep – her maid would be in at any moment to wake her –Tosh climbed from her bed and moved towards her dresser. With her dream still fresh in her mind, she pulled the medallion from its hiding place and gave in to the urge to put it on. As Tosh admired her reflection in the mirror – she really liked the way the medallion looked on her and the way the golden metal glowed against her pale skin – she was startled by a firm knock on her door.

 “Toshiko? Are you awake? Are you decent?” Harold’s voice came through the thick doors and Tosh began to panic. There was no time for her to get the medallion off and back into its hiding place before her father entered; Harold Saxon was not a patient man.

‘I can’t believe I’m doing this!’ Tosh thought to herself as she quickly hid the medallion inside the bodice of her nightgown and then grabbed the robe that was hanging off the back of her chair. “Yes, yes!” she called out in answer to her father’s demand as she tied her robe together and jumped back into bed.

She had just finished throwing her bed covers back over her legs when her bedroom door opened and Harold Saxon poked his head in. He shook his head as he spotted Tosh. “Still in bed at this hour?” Harold stepped into the room and crossed over to the window; Tosh winced as he pulled back the curtains to let in the bright sunlight. “It’s a beautiful day. I have a gift for you.” Harold placed the large package he had been carrying on the bed, lifted the lid and pulled out a stunning white dress lavishly trimmed with gold.

"Oh!" Tosh’s breath caught in her throat as she climbed out of her bed and moved towards the dress. “It’s beautiful!” she whispered in awe as she ran her fingers delicately along the soft material.

 “Isn’t it?” Harold was pleased that Tosh liked her gift so much. She rarely asked for things, and he took great delight in surprising her now and again.

Tosh’s eyes narrowed as she met her step-father’s gaze. “May I inquire as to the occasion?” A gift this extravagant wasn’t given without a reason.

Harold carefully schooled his features into a hurt face. “Does a father need an occasion to dote upon his only daughter?” Not waiting for an answer Harold waved in his daughter’s maids. “Go on. Actually I had hoped that you might wear it for the ceremony today.”

Tosh’s brow furled together as she tried to think of what her father was talking about. “The ceremony?”

“Captain Brockless’ promotion ceremony,” Harold reminded his daughter; he was genuinely shocked that she had forgotten about it given the fact that it had been her favourite topic of conversation for the past few weeks.

A faint blush painted Tosh’s cheeks; she couldn’t believe that she had forgotten Tommy’s big day. “I knew that!” she protested quickly.

Harold didn’t bother to hide his smile as Tosh was dragged behind a changing screen by a few of her maids. “Commodore Brockless, as he’s about to become!”

Tosh wasn’t sure if her sudden lack of air came from the maids lacing up her corset or the fact that she would soon see Tommy. She knew very well that her step-father was carrying on a carefully laid-out plan to play matchmaker. As she dressed, she listened to him go on about Tommy. “A fine gentleman, don’t you think? He fancies you, you know."

When he noticed that Tosh was being awfully quiet, he asked, "Toshiko? How’s it coming?”

“It’s difficult to say.” Tosh was finding it harder and harder to breathe much less talk.

“I’m told it’s the latest fashion in New London.” Harold was so proud of himself that he’d gotten something Tosh liked that he didn’t notice his daughter’s breathing had become quite laboured.

 “Well, women in New London must’ve learned how not to breathe,” Tosh muttered under her breath as the maids tied the last of the laces. As they settled her skirts and smoothed out the wrinkles, she looked at herself in the mirror; she had to admit that even though the corset really was way too tight for comfort, it did make her waist look amazingly small and delicate.

A knock on the bedroom door drew Harold’s attention to the servant standing in the doorway. “Milord, you have a visitor,” he said with a respectful bow, making sure to keep his eyes from straying around Tosh's bedchamber.

*****

Ianto Jones stood in the parlour of Saxon Manor; he tried not to let his gaze wander too much but his eyes were irresistibly drawn to a beautiful wall sconce. He reached out and ever-so-gently touched it and to his horror, a piece came off in his hand! Panicking as he heard the sound of approaching footsteps, Ianto quickly buried the piece in a large vase that held a variety of canes and umbrellas.

Ianto finished hiding the piece and turned back around just in time to see Harold Saxon and the servant coming down the stairs. “Ah, Mr Jones, good to see you again,” Harold greeted the young man cordially.

Ianto bowed slightly to the Governor. “Good day, sir. I have your order.” Placing the long case he had been carrying on the small table he opened it up and lifted out a sword, proudly handing it over to Harold.

Harold unsheathed the sword and admired the blade. “Well…?” he patiently prompted the young man; he wanted to hear more about the sword he planned to gift Tommy with at his promotion ceremony. He wanted to be able to talk about it intelligently should anyone ask.

Ianto quelled his nerves; he knew how expertly he’d created the blade. “The blade itself is steel that has been folded multiple times and then hand-hammered, and I laid gold filigree into the handle. If I may…?” He held out his hands in a silent but courteous request for the sword and curious as to what Ianto wanted it for, Harold handed it over to him. Ianto placed the sword on his fingers to demonstrate its supreme craftsmanship, the weapons remained completely motionless. “Perfectly balanced. The tang is nearly the full width of the blade.” Ianto easily yet dramatically flipped the sword and gracefully presented it gripe-first to the Governor.

The Governor gladly took the sword back, pleased with the wonderful work done. “Impressive. Very impressive. Ah, now Commodore Brockless is going to be very pleased with this. Do pass my compliments on to your Master, hmm?”

A tight smile graced Ianto’s face. “I shall. A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated.” 'As if that drunkard had anything to do with creating such a thing of beauty,' Ianto thought wryly. 'That's all my work you're holding there, Governor.'

As Harold sheathed the sword and Ianto held out the case, their attention was drawn to the main hall where they saw Tosh gracefully descending the stairs dressed in her elegant new white gown. The maids had slightly curled her dark locks and placed a matching hat upon her head.

 “Oh, Toshiko, you look absolutely stunning.” Harold knew that Tommy would be just as blown away as he was. 'This will most certainly catch Brockless' eye,' he thought. 'My little Tosh will be the wife of the Commodore of the Fleet very soon.'

A true smile graced Tosh’s face as soon as she spotted Ianto standing next to her father. “Ianto! It’s so good to see you. I had a dream about you last night,” Tosh happily informed her best friend.

A light blush painted Ianto’s cheeks. “About me?” he whispered softly.

While Harold had no real problem with Ianto, he refused to see his daughter spending her life with anyone but Tommy Brockless and he quickly cut in to their conversation. “Yes, well, is that entirely proper for you to be doing?” he frowned at the young girl. 'Should she really be having dreams about a man who's not going to be her husband?'

Tosh wanted to roll her eyes; everyone knew that her heart belonged to Tommy and that Ianto was her best friend. Ianto was the only person who treated her like, well… like she was just a normal girl. She ignored Harold and focused on Ianto. “About the day we met, do you remember?”

Ianto nodded; he would never forget the day that he'd been saved from the ocean by Tosh and the others, and ever since then, Tosh had become his sister in every way but blood. “How could I forget, Miss Sato?”

Hurt flashed in Tosh’s eyes. It was at times like this, when it just family around, that she wished Ianto could just address her by her first name and without all the formalities. “Ianto, how many times must I ask you to call me Tosh?” she chided gently. She knew that they had to keep up the act in front of her father, but at least she found comfort in knowing that when they were truly alone Ianto would call her Tosh.

Ianto flashed Tosh a gentle smile; “At least once more, Miss Sato, as always.” He gave the very same answer every time she asked him that question.

Harold would never admit to any one but himself that he was worried about how close his Toshiko was with Ianto. He had no real problem with their friendship as long as it stayed just that, simple friendship. He couldn't risk anything tarnishing Tosh's reputation as an innocent young lady; she had to remain pure and untouched until her wedding night or Tommy might not deem her acceptable as his bride. He was pleased with Ianto's response for increased familiarity between them. “There. See? At least the boy has a sense of propriety. Now, we really must be going.” Harold handed Tosh a parasol that matched her hat and gown and completed her ensemble perfectly. “There you are.” He beamed at his daughter; she was so beautiful and as she matured, she was becoming the spitting image of her late mother.

Tosh flashed a brief smile at Ianto. “Good day, Mr Jones.” She really wished she could talk to Ianto without her father around; she needed his calming influence to stop her from freaking out. She had a feeling today was the day when Tommy asked for her hand in marriage and her excitement was threatening to get the better of her.

Harold offered Tosh his arm and smiled at his daughter. “Come along.” He picked up the sword case, tucked Tosh's hand into the crook of his arm and led her to the door, effectively and pointedly dismissing Ianto.

“Good day,” Ianto whispered softly as he followed Tosh and the Governor out to the driveway and then watched them leave in the carriage, “Toshiko.” Ianto wished he could offer his friend some kind of comfort as she was no doubt facing a day that would forever change her life.

*****

Standing high on the mast of his boat surveying the crystal blue seas that lay before him was Captain Jack Harkness. As the king of these seas he knew he cut a fine figure of a man and nothing could damper his mood… nothing that is except for the fact that his boat filling with water.

Eyes widening comically when he saw the true depth of his predicament, Jack jumped down, grabbed his handy little bucket and began bailing out his small boat once again. As he threw water over the side he noticed three pirate skeletons hung in plain sight on tall posts, each with a sign that read, ‘pirates ye be warned', tied around their necks. Jack removed his captain's hat and saluted his fallen brothers with a sweeping flourish. A cunning look entered his eyes; such a warning clearly meant that he was getting closer to his goal. Jack grinned as he replaced his hat on his head. ‘Boeshane, here I come!’

*****

Young Stephan hummed a happy tune as his fishing pole lay idly in his hands. He really didn’t care if he caught a fish or not; he wasn't stuck in school, his mum wasn't after him to do his chores, and he was just enjoying a perfectly beautiful day on the Boeshane.

Then it floated by.

It was a cup. Granted, it wasn’t a very big cup but still, any cup floating in the ocean was a very odd thing. The cup was soon followed by a bowl and then things really started to get strange. Piece by floating piece, the odd assortment of debris drew the attention of curious passers-by. One of the on-lookers pointed out a bucket that came bobbing along in the water as the gentle waves of the ocean carried it along the dock’s path.

The wooden bucket was quickly followed by an assortment of crates, a variety of foodstuffs and even various articles of clothing, but nothing the gathered crowd saw in the water could have prepared them for his arrival. Not even a pagan oracle could have predicted the trouble he was to bring to their quiet lives.

Balanced proudly on the mast of his rapidly sinking ship, Jack fought the urge to grin and wave at all the onlookers who were watching his arrival with open mouths. ‘Boeshane, you will never forget the day Captain Jack Harkness came to port!’ Jack would have danced a happy jig if his perch hadn’t been so precarious; as it was, the waves were already lapping at the soles of his boots. However, luck was on Jack’s side; as the water began to creep up ever closer to him, he suddenly found himself on the dock with a single jaunty step and then he quickly carried on his merry way.

Wilf Noble had seen a lot of flash entrances in his time as Boeshane' Harbourmaster but none quite like this one and he'd certainly never seen anyone who looked and acted like his newest customer. Of course, no matter how stylish the stranger’s arrival, he still had a job to do. “Hey! Hold up there, you!” With his helper, David, following closely behind him, Wilf moved as fast as he could to block the newcomer's path.

Jack rolled his eyes and came to halt; he plastered a fake smile on his face before he turned to the other man. He had one eyebrow quirked upward with amused curiosity. "Yes?" he drawled.

 “It’s a shilling to tie up your boat at the dock.” All three men turned to look at Jack's ship but all they could see was the very tip of the mast poking out of the water. Still, that did not deter Wilf; a boat was still a boat no matter how deep it anchored and it still cost a shilling to dock it. “And I shall need to know your name.”

A cunning look entered Jack’s blue eyes. “What’d ye say to three shillings? And we forget the name?” Jack waved the coins under Wilf’s nose enticingly.

Now, Wilf was not a stupid man and it was not the first time he’d been offered something like this. He’d learned a long time ago that it was better for his overall health to accept what was offered than to question the reasons behind it. “Welcome to Boeshane, Mr Smith.” With a knowing nod, Wilf jotted down the name in his books and pocketed the three shillings. Satisfied that his business was done Wilf headed off to meet with the next boat looking for a place to dock.

Jack watched as Wilf walked away before his eyes darted to the money pouch lying oh-so-innocently on the tally book. 'I hear you calling my name!' Casting several quick looks around and making sure that no one was looking, Jack snatched up the money pouch. ‘I may have lost three shillings but I gained a whole lot more,' he gloated happily as he sauntered off in search of wine, women, men and song.



Profile

Janto - Your Touch
backrose_17
backrose_17

Latest Month

October 2017
S M T W T F S
1234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031    

Tags

Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by Lilia Ahner