kiramaru7 | Cross-posted from Madrona Project & DA (now with its matching shiny :D)

Title: A Pirate’s Life For Me!
Author: kat and kira
Word Count:1696
World: Capital of Madrona
Main Characters: Bitty Rousseau, Itty Rousseau
Borrow: no
Summary: Bitty and her twin sister, Itty, celebrate Pirate Days
Author’s Note: A few lines from the sea shanty “Blow The Man Down” appear within and they were taken from The Burl Ives Songbook.

Itty and Bitty walked arm in arm through the rows of vendors along with the rest of the crowd. Tall, with heads full of red curls that were adorned with their creations, the Rousseau sisters, milliners by trade and spinsters by choice, were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Armed with a tankard of beer, they played at being pirates. From their tightly corseted outfits that were barely there and big black boots, to the loud “arrs” and “avast me hearties” that Bitty would utter and the soft “yo-ho, yo-ho, a pirate’s life for me!” her sister Itty sang, they had the part down pat. The Rousseau sisters were as buxom as they were bawdy, Pirate Days being their favorite holiday. They were also twins and hard to tell apart, despite Bitty being the one with green eyes and Itty the one with blue, not that either sister minded.

They paused in front of a booth displaying jewelry. Bitty leaned over to examine the merchant’s wares, giving the man an eyeful of her ample bosom. “Ahoy, Matey!” she said, chuckling when the merchant’s gaze lingered on her cleavage, before traveling upwards to her face. Grinning saucily, she said, “Sutler, me ’n’ me sister here be needing sumtin’ purdy ta wear.”

“Aye…” Itty said. “Ye got sum fine lookin’ booty, Matey.” She smiled sweetly at him.

“Ummm…? Can I help you, ladies?” the merchant said. Aside from a few “arrs,” his customers spoke Common quite clearly as if this day was no different than any other day in the marketplace. These two, however, he found very difficult to understand what they wanted and that fact that they were so pleasing on the eye made it hard for him to concentrate on anything other than the pairs of creamy white bosoms that floated nicely in view as they leaned over to talk to him. His attention wandering, the merchant wondered if that was a bit of rosy pink nipple he saw just peeking behind the straining white linen of the quieter of two’s shirt.

Bitty growled in disgust. “Landlubber,” she muttered to herself. She leaned over, her chest heaving as her tightly laced corset made it hard to breathe, and tried again. “Listen, you bilge-suckin’, addlepated, old dawg! We be wantin’ to buy sum of yer booty! And if ye done stop eyein’ me tits, I’m gonna smack ye upside the head ‘n’ back again!”

The merchant had the good graces to not only blush, but keep his gaze firmly rooted on Bitty’s green eyes. “Those earrings your sister’s admiring are twenty five coppers and that necklace you like is fifteen.”

Bitty looked at her sister who nodded. “Can’t ye do better than that?”

“How about thirty five for the two?” The merchant gulped.

“How about thirty?” Itty said.

Bitty glared at him. She had straighten up and now stood with one hand on her hip, the other holding her tankard as if she wanted nothing more than to whack the merchant upside the head with it.

“How about twenty five and I throw in the necklace for free?” he squeaked.

The sisters beamed at him. “SOLD!” they cried, and gathering their “booty,” they toasted the merchant, before disappearing into the crowd amid raucous laughter from the two of them. After they had calmed themselves down a bit, Itty looked at her sister.

“Bitty, I think we need t’ find some grub.”

Bitty looked at her over the top of the tankard she’d brought to her lips. “Aye, Itty. That’s a fine idea.” She grabbed her sister’s hand and they pushed their way through the marketplace toward the food stands.

They carefully examined the selection, for only the most prized grub was fit for (pretend) pirates such as themselves. Itty was a bit more conscientious in her examinations, while Bitty concentrated more on accosting their fellow patrons with growls of “arrr!” and nearly unintelligible insults. “Damned landlubbers! Get in the spirit of things! Arrrr!” She waved her tankard around. “Itty, ye find something that tickles yer fancy?”

“Aye, Bitty. That pretzel, right there.” Itty looked at said pretzel like a feral animal eyes its prey.

“Ye heard her! Smartly now, laddie!” Bitty waved her tankard around. The poor boy, who was working the stall, remembered them from last year and quickly got the quiet one her pretzel, lest they tie him up and leave him somewhere, again.

Itty gleefully chomped on her pretzel while they followed Bitty’s nose to another food stall. “Ahoy! What ye be asking for one of ‘em fine sticks covered in meat?”

The vendor looked very unimpressed at the girl’s antics. “I’ll let you have it for five if you take the show elsewhere or cover up.”

“Why you…” Bitty started, but luckily her sister grabbed her, being able to recognize real ire in Bitty’s demeanor.

“Thank you,” Itty said quietly and paid for the meat on a stick. Taking her sister by the arm and the food, she headed away from the stand quickly.

Bitty viciously bit at her meat, fuming over the lack of true participation from her fellow revelers and the emptiness of her tankard. Itty quietly sang next to her in an attempt to lift her spirits. But Bitty would have none of it until a victim walked by in the form of a young man in an eye patch. He was not unattractive and Bitty was now bored. “Avast, ye salty dog! Wanna shiver me timbers?” she called out to him.

He stared at her and blinked. Not only did he not understand what she wanted, he was not entirely sure why such a buxom woman would be talking to him. “Excuse me?”

She sauntered up to him. “Come on, lad. Don’t be so skittish.” Bitty lightly touched his cheek. “Pardon me for saying so, but I wouldn’t mind if ye fired yer cannon through me porthole.”

The boy now looked positively terrified.

“Bitty, maybe that’s enough. Let’s go dancing,” Itty quietly pleaded with her sister.

“Prepare to be boarded!” Bitty thrust her stick of meat up in the air like a sword. Itty took this as her cue to grab her sister and drag her away. There was no point in making the boy faint. As she was being dragged away Bitty called out at the top of her lungs, “I’ve crushed seventeen men’s skulls between me thighs!” Just so he would know what he was missing.

Itty decided that they would start drinking later in the day next year. While she had a pleasant buzz going, having drunk only one tankard of beer, her sister had drunk a bit more and was fast becoming three sheets to the wind, as a sailor would say. Stopping at the tent manned by Gus Olafson of the Dewdrop Inn, Bitty dragged her inside for another round as she was “thirsty.”

“Ahoy, me Beauties!” a male patron called out.

Bitty grinned. She had found herself some real pirates at last! Aside from a few serving wenches the place was full of men, most, including their host, were dressed as pirates. She would have rubbed her hands together if she was not carrying her empty tankard. “Ahoy, me hearty!” Looking around the room, she tried to catch the attention of one of the serving wenches, but they were all busy refilling empty tankards and the bowls that held little pieces of salty pretzels. Bitty growled in frustration. She wanted a drink and she wanted it now! Just when she was about to turn around, grab her sister, and leave, Jacques the miller’s son turned in his seat and tugged on her sleeve. “Unhand me, ye bilge-suckin’ scurvy dawg!” Bitty cried.

Jacques chuckled at her ire, completely unperturbed by it. He looked from one sister to the other. “Well, my beauties, if ye be wantin’ a drink, then yer gonna hafta sing like a canary to get it,” he smirked.

Bitty raised her empty tankard like she wanted to knock the smirk off his face. “Arrrggh!!” she growled.

“Okay,” Itty said softly. Taking a deep breath, she sang in a clear high soprano, “Come all ye young fellows that follow the sea…”

The men in the tent picked up the chorus and sang along with her, “To my way haye, blow the man down…”

Bitty sighed. She took another deep breath and sang in a rich contralto, “And pray pay attention and listen to me…”

Everyone sang, “Give me some time to blow the man down…”

Alternating lines, the sisters sang for their beers, with the crowd joining them for the chorus.

“Pay attention to order, now you one and all…” Itty sang.

“To my way haye, blow the man down…”

“For right there above you flies the Black Ball!” Bitty belted out.

“Give me some time to blow the man down…”

“Blow the man down, haye, blow the man down,” the sisters sang, “Give me some time… to blow the man down!”

The tent erupted in drunken applause. Gus waved his hands, trying to calm everyone down, but it took a loud “Pipe down, ye dirty bilge-rats!!” from Major Henri Villeneuve, who was there on leave with a few of his army buddies, for the place to fall silent, except for a soft, “Aye, aye, Cap’n sir!”

“Someone get the lassies a drink,” he said as stood up to leave along with his friends. Smiling, he counted out ten coppers and gave them to a serving wench, along with a copper for herself. “That should cover it, me love.” Flashing a toothy smile at her, he doffed his hat, sending the large plum fluttering, before leaving with his friends.

Bitty blew a kiss at him as he passed by on his way out of the tent. She had a full tankard now and things were starting to look up again. “Itty, I believe ye were saying something about dancing?”

“Aye!” Itty raised her tankard and giggled.

Bitty faced the room again. “Which of ye scurvy dogs thinks he can handle a twirl with me an’ me sister?”

The tent erupted with a chorus of “ayes.”

It was going to be the best pirate fest ever.