Tortuga. The last place I wanted to be at the moment.
"Oh, cheer up Luna," Scarletta said from beside me. "Take a deep breath. It's just like home."
I rolled my eyes. "I was raised in Romania by a very strict Romani caravan. This is not home."
She snorted and unsheathed her sword, picking up a tankard of rum with it as we passed by a table. "Ah, I'd count nine as adulthood."
"Obviously you're not a gypsy."
A drunkard stumbled his way over to us and passed out at our feet.
"I have a question," Scarletta stated as she slid the tankard down her sword.
"You always have questions Scarletta," I sighed. "Either that or opinions. And I don't fancy hearing either of them at the moment."
"That's mean." She took a sip. "Yer last name is Petulengro. But ye claim yer father is Hector Barbossa."
"I fail to see a question."
"Why isn't yer last name Barbossa?"
"Because I didn't-" I stopped. I was not having this conversation yet again. "Just because it is. Just get your arse back to the Curse and set sail for Port Royal!"
"Aye, Cap'n!" she mocked. "What of the rest of the crew?"
"You'll be back in a week. They won't miss you."
"I can't believe yer leaving us to become a nanny. What say ye if ye get caught?"
"Worse comes to worse they find out I'm a gypsy. Besides," I flipped a brunette wig over my short black and white bob and disguise my voice, "No one will recognize me as Estrella Jones, the governess from England, of something as evil as piracy."
"I can't believe yer leaving us to be a nanny."
"I'm not a like you Scar. I have feelings. And am un trecut."
"And ye expect to out run it by becoming a scullery maid?"
I rolled my eyes again. We were at the ship now, climbing the gang plank. "On deck, you mutts urâtmirostitore! Make way to set sail for Port Royal!" I turned back to Scarletta. "You have you mother tell you your whole life is a lie and send you away to a father you've never met. Be persecuted de trei ori for being a gypsy. Have the father you never met commit rebeliune –mutiny- against your best friend and then get himself cursed by Aztec treasure. Not to mention being cursed yourself. Tell me you wouldn't run from that."
She thought for a moment. "Nope."
That was the last time I set sail on a pirate ship. Now I'm simply a lady-in-waiting for Miss Elizabeth.
Memories like these always keep me up late at night wondering.
Sometimes I wonder of my mother.
Sometimes I wonder what's become of my ship after I left it in the capable -but rough- hands of my first mate Scarletta von Vanity.
Sometimes I wonder if my father ever rid himself of the curse.
Sometimes I wonder if Jack escaped the island or if he's still there.
Sometimes I wonder why in the hell I gave up that life for the one I have now.
But most of the time I wonder if I'll ever be able to go back.
End of Prologue
A/N: So, earlier this morning I reviewed to a story that sounded pretty similar to this one. Though I don't think it'll be quite the same. I tend to but many plot twists in my stories but they always end up making sense.
As for me personally, I stay up late wondering what in the hell is wrong with me. Then the voices tell me it'll take more than one night.
And Romanian translations go!
Amintire – Reminiscence
am un trecut – I have a past
mutts urât mirostitore – malodorous mutts
de trei ori – thrice
Incredibil – unbelievable
For future reference: Luna speaks a mixture of Romanian, English, and a dash of Latin. If she personally does not explain it in her dialogue or you just can't figure it out on your own the translations will always be down here. If I missed one; sorry.
Alert, favorite, review.*
Lots o' love,
Lyra Raine Sparrow
*not necessarily in that order