Rum and Ravishment

by Juliane

Captain Jack is a character from Pirates of the Caribbean. Viviane is a character of my own from my HP fanfic.

Viviane hated flying over the ocean. She leaned to one side, feeling airsick from the turbulent winds buffeting herself and her broom, but she did not reacquaint herself with lunch, as expected. Instead, the motion turned the tail of the broom sideways, sending it into a spiral, the ground below becoming rapidly closer. A shrieking Viviane performed a most credible imitation of a banshee, until she hit the ground very hard and rolled over in an unconscious heap.

She awoke to insistent prodding of her shoulder. Opening her sand-encrusted eyes, she noticed the toe of a once-dandy boot doing the prodding. "Esssscuse me very much, but yourlyingonmyrum," a voice slurred.

Rolling onto her back to escape the boot, she squinted up at the man who was unsteadily hovering over her. "I'm not lying on rum, I'm lying on a lot of bloody sand," she said, her voice starting out in a gravelly whisper and ending in a furious yell. She scrambled to her feet, looking around at the clumps of palm trees and, well, not much else. "I've gone and stranded myself on an island," she said, outrage in every line of her posture. "A bloody boring island." Waving her sword around, she realized that the only thing available to use it on seemed to be the owner of the aforesaid boot, who had finished scrambling around in the sand and was drinking enthusiastically from a bottle. Finishing his swig, he raised his eyebrows and made a vague gesture with his hand. "S'not that bad. S'not bad at all. I got rum, I got food...somewhere...there's, um nice sunsets...."

He gave up and took another drink, his dark eyes surveying her from the tip of her boots and stopping uncertainly somewhere around her forehead. "Your hair's in a bit of a mess, darling, I think I've got a comb somewhere." After searching the pockets of his frock coat and sneaking a look down his trousers, he frowned. "I guess not." Shrugging, he turned to walk away, but the blade of a sword across his neck made him stop and, blinking hard, try to see around the back of his head.

"You have no right to talk about my hair being a mess," Viviane hissed. "Now, are you going to share the rum, or not?"

"Uh, well, that's a good question. A very interesting question that needs to be carefully, uh, thought out and-"

Her hostage relaxed for the space of a breath, but in the next, Viviane was startled to find the man no longer within the circle of her arm, but in front of her and pointing a blade of his own.

"Er, where did you get that?" she asked. "Not out of your trousers, I hope. You know what they say about keeping weapons down there. You'll lose a buttock, or worse." She eased into the proper stance and took a few steps forward, laying her sword across his. "En garde."

"You're a traditionalist, Madame?" he asked, nearly pitching over as one leg entangled the other, but righting himself at the last moment, then lunging into a flurried attack.

"No. I'm-" Viviane broke off, surprised by the man's skill, and concentrating on parrying his thrusts. She slowly gained the advantage, until she nearly had him cornered in the angle of three palm trees.

"Oh, it's my ship!" exclaimed her opponent, gazing over her left shoulder and Viviane, distracted, turned to look. He took the advantage and disarmed her, her sword flying away to land in a shower of sand.

"Damn,"groused Viviane, her hands on her hips. She glared over at her sword, then transferred the look to the man who had defeated her.

He swept her a bow. "You didn't complain about the advantage I gained over you through my clever, if, perhaps a...a little...underhanded...tactic. Refreshing."

Viviane shrugged. "Pirate," she said, then flashed him a dazzling grin and, stretching out her hand, spelled her sword back into it. "Witch. Surrender?"

Blinking, the man dropped his sword and twirled his hands about in some vague gesture that he gave up on halfway through. "Impressive. Very impressive. Think I need another drink." He staggered back over to where Viviane had been lying, and fished up a few more bottles. "Rum?" he asked, thrusting one bottle into her hands before wandering towards what looked like an old fire pit, before falling over halfway there.

"What's your name, you stupid sot?" Viviane screamed after him.

"Captain Jack, my lady," he mumbled from his place in the sand.

Walking over, she took a swig of the rum. "Not bad. My name is Viviane." She went to wipe her sleeve over her mouth before taking another drink, earning herself a mouthful of sand. Spitting and swearing so that the man she was towering over raised his eyebrows in admiration, she finally gasped out, "Enough. Enough of sand. We're going for a swim."

"Um, was that a plural ‘we'...." He trailed off as she stomped away from him, cloak, gown, boots, stockings, knickers and corset left in a series of intriguing piles behind her. "The wench is naked," Jack said, amazed, propping himself up on his elbows for a better view.

Plunging into the surf, she showed a flash of breasts and buttocks as she dove under the waves, then popped back up further out in the water. She sighed with pleasure as the water dissolved the sweat and washed the sand from her skin. Laughing in sheer joy at being clean and clothes-less, she beckoned at her companion, who sighed and wandered down to the water's edge.

"Pirates don't like water, love. We spend our time trying to stay out of it."

Viviane waved her bottle at him. "I've got more rum."

The pirate shrugged. "You've got a point." Finishing off his own bottle, he threw it aside and shed his clothing, tossing it well out of reach of the waves. He waded out to her and they faced each other, both of them treading water, a bit embarrassed and, in the case of the pirate, very, very drunk.

"So, if you're a witch, can't you just disappear off the island or something?" Jack asked.

"I suppose I could Apparate, but you need to know where you are as well as where you're going, or it could get nasty," mused Viviane. " Since I don't know where I am, I'll wait until I can repair my broom and fly out."

"Oh. Well, here's to that." He took another drink and handed it to her for her turn.

Viviane took the bottle and sniffed at him. "You aren't so bad, now that you've washed. I've had enough of smelly men for a while."

"Smelly?" yelped Jack. "I am not smelly, nor am I odif - odalisque - ossif - "

"Odissifus?" suggested Viviane.

"Yes, that. Pirates are redolent of tar and other romantic, if pungent things."

"Right. Redolent and pungent. I've got it. Jack, there is a shark right behind you."

Trying and failing to bow while treading water, Jack indulged in an affected laugh, his head tilted to one side. "Charming, Viviane, but that's an old joke that any pirate worth his salt wouldn't-"

He blinked and shook his head. Viviane was no longer there. He turned to notice her already regaining the beach, and turned his head a bit more to see a very large dorsal fin slicing the water, not ten feet away. Jack showed the shark his own teeth before diving under the waves on his way back to the sand.

*~*~*

Viviane rolled over and groaned. Her head was throbbing as fiercely as it ever had and for a moment, she had no idea where she was or what she had drunk to feel so wretchedly.

There was a clue. She was staring up at palm fronds. Ah. Broom crash. Island. She groaned. Far too much rum. Lifting her head as far as she dared, she looked around. The horrible glaring light was gone, replaced by soft blue presided over by a crescent moon. Next to her, sprawled face down on the cloak, was the strange pirate. Viviane's eyes widened. Had they? No, they'd been too drunk and the next to last last thing she remembered was staggering out of the ocean, to pass out on her cloak in the shade. The last thing she remembered was the feeling of his body landing next to hers.

She propped herself up on one elbow and was instantly hit with a fit of dizziness. Sighing in defeat, she reached for the rum bottle. The only way to cure this sort of hangover was to start again. After a pull at the bottle, she turned to the pirate and stared. He had a lithe, beautifully made body, compact and well-knit with slender muscles that tapered into elegant hands and feet. His huge, dark eyes were closed, but even in sleep his cupid's-bow mouth twitched, as if he were in the midst of a private joke.

The eyes opened. "Would you be so kind as to pass the bottle this direction? Thanks, love." He struggled to sit up, and drained the bottle, then fell back down. "Swimming exhausts me."

"Really?" Viviane said. "Did you just finish off the rum?"

"Oh, there's more, over there." He flapped a hand over in the direction of Viviane's broom.

Viviane Accio'ed several bottles over, causing Jack to roll over to face her. "Impressive. Did you ever think about becoming a pirate? That thing you just did would be really...useful. If, for instance, we needed a certain ship, or maybe just-"

She grinned at him and opened another bottle. "Are you asking me to be your first mate?"

His gold teeth flashed in the dim light. "Maybe."

"Mmmm." Viviane nodded towards the small pile of wood in the fire pit. "Shall we light a fire?"

"That would be an improvement, but I have no way of lighting the fire."

Viviane reached over, brushing her body over his, to grab a stick of wood. Grasping it tightly in her fist, she murmured a few words and it burst into flame. She tossed it into the pit, where the dry wood quickly caught on. Settling back next to Jack, she tilted her head and shrugged at him.

He offered her the bottle. "Witch." Viviane grasped it, but tightened her fingers over his upon the neck of the vessel. "Aren't you going to ravish me?" she whispered.

"Uh, what was that?"

"Ravish me." She let go of the bottle and stroked his mustache lightly. "You're a pirate. You're supposed to ravish me. I give you permission, but I promise to put up a fight, just for appearance's sake."

"I ravish you? No, that's...that's...I'm tired of ravishing. It can get so complicated and you try undoing a corset when the owner is thrashing around and screaming "

"I'm naked,"huffed Viviane. "I want you to ravish me."

He contemplated the bottle before drinking, and then looked back at her. "You're a witch, aren't you? You are supposed to put an enchantment on me and take me for your own wicked, mmm, purposes? Hold me down, take me, collect and use my, uh, fluids and such for...for..."

"If I did, they wouldn't be of any use except for opening a distillery,"snapped Viviane.

Jack flopped onto his back and began to wriggle about. "I am alone and helpless and...things like that...how can you resist such available human flesh to take and use for your dread arcane deeds?

Viviane looked at him and sighed. "Ravish me. Please."

He stopped wriggling and took her hand, lifting it to his lips for a kiss. They lingered on her skin, and took their time exploring the hollows between her knuckles before her hand was placed against his chest. His eyes sparkled in the firelight with mischief and more than a hint of lust. "I propose a bargain, love. If I ravish you, will you use me without mercy?"

She did not answer, but leaned forward and brushed her cheek against his in a gesture of want and hesitation. He chuckled and slid one hand around her neck, burying his fingers in her damp, tangled hair. "That was a bit too merciful, for my taste," the pirate whispered, and captured her mouth with his in a kiss of bitter salt and sweet rum.

Viviane clutched at him and fell back, pulling him atop her, feeling the heat of his body mix with the cool night air upon her skin. The heady miasma of anticipation and discovery washed through her veins as his tongue glided over her lips, smoothing the roughness caused by ocean winds and salt water. She ran her hands down his back as she answered his kisses with her own, grabbing his buttocks in delight and arching up to rub against him when he broke off for a hard suck on her neck.

"That's better," he said, around teeth clamped gently around her collarbone. "Now you're acting like a merciless witch, bent on savage conquest."

With a deft roll, she planted him on his back and sat atop his thighs, tweaking his nipples rather harder than necessary. "No, that was just normal womanly reaction," she said. "This is savage conquest." She rose just far enough to brush the top of his cock with the dampness between her legs, and slowly inched forward before sitting back down, this time astride his chest. Jack's teeth glinted up at her, and he grabbed fistfuls of her hair as if to pull her down for another kiss. Just before their lips met, he stopped her, hands firmly clamped on either side of her head. "That's dangerous," he said. "Keep that up, and you may find yourself being ravished."

Viviane merely shrugged, and raked her long nails down his chest, leaving score marks beaded with red droplets. Shaking herself loose from his grasp, she began licking them up, leaving whorls of blood amongst the dark hair lightly sprinkled across his chest. Kneeling there, her tongue and her hair sweeping across his skin, the motion of her body brought her buttocks into contact with his cock; brushing over it, sliding down it, occasionally letting it burrow the slightest bit into the warm, wet space it sought.

Just as Viviane was lapping up the last of the blood, she nearly bit her tongue off as she was shoved off of Jack's body, and found herself prone, Jack's arm nearly cutting off her breath as it pressed into her neck.

"You said you were a witch. Are you sure you didn't lie to me just a little? Perhaps about being not a witch, but a vampire? I don't like vampires. And that teasing...I don't react well to it."

"No," croaked out Viviane. "No, no vampire. Witch."

The forearm was removed. "Good. Because I've had enough of your teasing." Before she could do anything, Viviane found her legs shoved apart and up, and with no further preliminaries, Jack entered her, propping himself up on his hands and grinding into her with relish. After a surprised gasp, Viviane began to move with him, eliciting a pleased grunt from her ravisher. He lifted her off the cloak, kneading her ass, wanting more of her, and she draped her ankles around his neck in acquiescence when he shoved his hips impatiently forward..

"You're not putting up much of the promised fight, my lady," panted Jack, pausing to get a better grip on her.

Viviane threw back her head and laughed, wriggling her hips in delight. "That's because, my dear Captain Jack, I have tricked you into giving me what I want. Your fluids. Your essence. I can tell you'll not stop now. You can't stop. You could not, even if you wanted to." She reached up to trail fingers down his chest and arched her waist, loving the warmth of him inside her, the wonderful friction of their coupling.

He raised his eyebrows and indulged in a particularly leisurely series of thrusts. "You have enchanted me, then?"

"Oh yes," gasped Viviane.

"You're going to use my, uh, outpourings for underhanded, evil purposes?" He began to move in her again, slowly, but in an increasingly forceful manner.

"Yes, definitely yes," Viviane said.

"To brew noxious potions and philtres and...and things like that?"

"Oh, please yes," Viviane pleaded, grabbing his hair and pulling him close, taking care not to disturb the things he was doing to make her shake and tingle so.

Cradling her in his arms, flesh meeting flesh with increasing urgency, his eyes hooded and his breath coming quickly between parted lips, he breathed, "Used for nothing but malicious intent against, ah, official persons?"

"Yes, yes, yes," screamed Viviane, clutching him in a long, convulsive shudder. A few seconds later, he joined her, throwing his head back and letting forth a guttural, "Aaaarrrgggghhhh," before collapsing across her body.

~*~*~

"Pass the rum, will you, dear?" Viviane said. "Sex always makes me thirsty."

"Here." Jack passed the bottle over, and as she drank, he twisted a strand of her hair around his finger. "Uh, Viviane, I was wondering...how do you go about, well-" He let go of her hair to perform a more-vague-than-usual hand gesture. "Getting my, ah, fluids out so they can be used for..."

Viviane eyed him over the mouth of the bottle. "My dear, I was not serious. Although I suppose I could collect it somehow, and sell it on the potions ingredients black market as whale sperm - a very rare item, and most expensive. The only pity would be that I wouldn't be around to see the dire effects when the unknowing potions maker added it-"

She sat up. "Actually, I could-"

She lay back down. "No, that would be going too far."

The pirate eyed the witch with an air she wasn't at all sure about interpreting. "You worry about that sort of thing?"

"Noooo....not usually. Not at all, really."

He shrugged. "So why not?"

The witch smiled at the pirate. "I'm afraid it's a little late to collect this batch. We'd have to produce another one."

The pirate took a drink of rum. "That last ravishment went so well, that I'd be perfectly willing to undertake another."

The witch pursed her lips. "I'm not in a very merciful mood."

The pirate nodded and put down the bottle. "Bargain."

~*~*~

Dinner was at its noisy, merry climax when the third window from the end shattered. Knives, forks, and chicken legs were dropped, and Flitwick half rose from his chair, his wand at the ready. The Hufflepuffs, who were closest to the ruined window, drew together in a large, defensive clump.

Gasps replaced shrieks, as first one, then another, skinny leg appeared through the window, accompanied by a flash of other, more interesting parts. The intruder dropped lightly to the floor, and alarm turned to curiosity as he stood, clad in a kilt, frock coat and battered tricorn hat, and swept the room with a pair of enormous dark eyes.

Lavander Brown snuck sultry looks at the stranger, as she fanned Parvati Patil, who had fainted at the sight of the viril male organ underneath the kilt. "He's dreamy," Lavender whispered to Pansy Parkinson, their enmity forgotten in a rush of hormones. "I'll say," said Pansy. "Forget smarmy blonds. I'll take trinket-entwined dreadlocks any day." This set Dean to thinking.

Up at the faculty table, a simultaneous gulp of restorative wine was followed by incredulity.

"At least he wears his kilt properly," Minerva said, sitting even more upright than usual.

"He's a most impressive-" Flitwick began, but the stranger began to walk towards the faculty table, causing everyone to fall silent, except for a few longing shrieks as he passed by the House tables. He came to a halt in front of Viviane, who, for once, looked almost embarrassed.

"Hello, love," he said, sweeping his hat off with a bow. "I was busy plundering the ports of Scotland, and thought to pay you a visit. How-"

"Who is this...this...person?" spat Severus, fastidiously backing his chair away from the table, in order to put more space between himself and the intruder.
"Could say the same about you, gov," the man in the kilt said. "Aren't drinking your wine?" Raising Severus' goblet to his lips, he downed the contents in a gulp. "Not bad, but I prefer the rum, don't you?" he asked, turning back to Viviane.

"How. Do. You. Know. This. Person," Severus asked, each word sounding fresh from the millstone.

"Pickedhimuponvacation," said Viviane, speeding around the table to grab her acquaintance's arm. "Hogwarts, this is Captain Jack. Captain Jack, Hogwarts." With that, she rushed out of the Great Hall, pirate in tow.