Pirates of the Caribbean Oneshots

Late Night Reflections

The Pirate Hall was silent, save for the soft, random notes of a guitar floating off the dimly-lit balcony above it.

A figure entered silently, coming up the stairs and standing looking down at the guitarist, who was seated in a high-backed leather chair with elaborately carved mahogany limbs.

"Never had you pegged as a musician Edward, even when I found out it's you playing during meetings."

The speaker rested his back against the balcony railings, facing the seated man playing the guitar.

The guitarist looked up, hands still moving on the strings. "There's a lot of things folk don't see me as. Musician, husband, father, brother, friend."
His voice was tinged with bitterness, Irish accent heavy as his dark gaze drifted to the silver skull ring glimmering on his right hand.

"They reckon I'm a captain an' a Code Keeper and nothin' else. The reputation, and the image attached, has started to become a ball and chain. Somethin' I'll never cast aside. There's only about six or seven people who see "Edward Teague" rather than "Captain Teague" an' it can be hard to keep the balance between the two."

The other man nodded in understanding. "Who am I seeing now?" he asked curiously.

"Edward Teague. Captain Teague usually only comes out at Court meetings or onboard a ship in front of a crew."

Teague paused to ajust the tuning of his guitar before resuming playing, his long legs outstretched, bare feet propped on an intricately decorated wooden chest. He sighed softly, eyes straying to the chest, then back to the skull ring on his finger.

"The persona, for lack of a better word, of "Captain Teague" has become a bit of a prison shackle. I can't really cast it aside in public, at least not here. It's easier to drop at home, or behind a closed door with the old lady, but within Shipwreck Hall, in front of the Court, or on the deck of a ship, people only see the Captain, the Code Keeper, who shoots people without thinking twice, drinks straight whiskey by the bottle an' doesn't truly care about anybody."

He strummed the guitar thoughtfully for a few moments, then looked up.
"I'm guessin' ye didn't come here to listen to me reflectin' on meself. What's got you up at an hour when most sensible men would be in bed with their missus?"

Jonathan Rhodes shrugged elegantly. "Overthinking what the future holds for piracy."

Teague shook his head slightly. "No point in doing that. What's comin' will come regardless of what ye think."

"When did you become so unexpectedly wise?" Jonathan asked lightly, raising an eyebrow.

"Fatherhood has taught me some important lessons. So has marriage. I married a wise woman."

"Your aristocratic Pirate King," Jonathan said.

"Aye." Teague's eyes softened as he caressed the guitar's strings. "My Sparrow. My Asthore an' our Astóirín. The two treasures I value above all else."

Jonathan chuckled slightly. "You're a right romantic under that salt-stiffened exterior aren't you?"

A wry smile touched Teague's lips.
"Mm hm. A romantic gentleman who likes evenings in front of the fire with a mug of tae, me guitar, the dog and my old lady. Simple pleasures."

After a moments silence, Jonathan turned, heading to the stairs. "Thanks for the wisdom, Edward, it distracted me nicely. I might sleep now."

"My advice and late-night company are free," Teague said, rising to his feet. "Goodnight."

Guitar in hand, he looked at the Codex's jewelled chest for a moment before extinguishing the candles and locking the door as he left the hall after Jonathan.

He padded on silent feet through the maze of ship hulls until he reached the Star of Madagascar, where the Code Keeper traditionally lodged.

Giving it a glance, he continued walking, reaching the vessel that housed the Pirate King.

Both he and his King had quarters in the Hall, but the lodgings in the old hulls of ships offered more privacy.

Stepping onto the ship, he headed below deck, which had been refurbished until it resembled a small house.

The lantern in the kitchen area was lit, and his wife was seated at the table, head bent over papers.

"What're ye doin' up love?" he asked softly, stepping over to kiss her hair lightly.

"Waiting for you to come back, and trying to be productive in the meantime."

She raised her head, and he bent to kiss her lips gently.

"Where were you?"

"In the Hall, playing guitar, overthinking and offerin' advice to Jonathan."

Roxanne nodded, yawning and then sighing softly.

"I'll call it a night, now you're back to get into bed beside me," she murmured, stacking the papers neatly before standing up.

Hand in hand, they entered the bedroom, locking the door as they always did.

Roxanne slipped her breeches off, getting into bed in her shirt and underwear.

He stripped as far as his drawers and joined her, slipping one of his pistols under his pillow.

"Come here," Teague said softly, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close.

Roxanne's head settled on his bare chest, directly over his heart.

He kissed her temple, looking at her gently. "I'm looking forward to going home, just so I can be alone with you without having to lock doors to get privacy. So I can leave the ball and chain of the Code Keeper persona aside for a while."

Her fingers idly traced a scar on his right shoulder. "You could retire," she murmured. "Train a successor and pass the title on."

"Nah, I have to hold the title for at least a decade, unless I'm killed before that, before I can choose an' train a successor. It's rare for a Keeper to retire young. And anyway, I need to restore order to the Court after the mess my predecessor left it in. Ye need me as your Keeper love."

"I do," Roxanne agreed." I'd hate to try and manage the Court without you there."

"I'll do me best to make sure ye never have to."
Teague's voice was drowsy, his accent thickening as it tended to do when he was tired.

She tilted her head, gently kissing his jaw.

"Goodnight Asthore," he murmured, kissing her head before letting himself succumb to the embrace of sleep.