Pirates of the Caribbean: Bound by Blood
Title: Bound by Blood
Author: Serena-chan
Category: Movies
Sub-category: Pirates of the Caribbean
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Jack Sparrow / Will Turner
Prologue:
Jack barely felt the sharp pain as he sliced his palm, coating the cursed gold with his blood. He kept his eyes trained on Barbossa, the post-fight adrenaline still thundering through his veins.
He briefly tore his gaze away from his ex-first mate to lock eyes with Will who was standing next to the chest of Aztec gold, sword in hand, waiting. Hurriedly, he flung the blood-soaked coin in Will’s direction, raised his pistol at Barbossa and fired.
The older pirate stumbled backward as the bullet tore through his body. Surprise glinted in Barbossa’s eyes for a moment, but that was quickly replaced with amusement.
“Jack, ye been carryin’ that pistol fer ten years,” he said, “and now ye waste yer shot.”
“No, he didn’t.”
Barbossa turned to see Will standing over the Chest of Cortez, the sword in his hand dripping with his own blood. He opened his fist, revealing his own cut palm, and dropped the two coins into the chest.
As Jack watched the gold fall from Will’s hand, time seemed to slow down. He saw every turn of the coins as they made their short decent back to the chest they had come from. The blood from Will’s palm splattered over both of them, mingling with Jack’s own blood on the glistening gold surface.
A sudden wave of dizziness made his head spin, as chills shot down his spine. He shuddered, shaking his head, and then it was over. As quickly as it had come, the strange feeling vanished, leaving him to watch as his enemy of ten years died before him.
‘The curse must be lifted,’ he thought to himself.
Chapter One: Dreams
***Will looked up through the deep blue waters of the Caribbean and watched the sunlight dance on the surface. He could feel the coolness of the ocean all around him as he exhaled the remaining air from his lungs, watching, mesmerized, as the pockets of air floated effortlessly away.
It was strange. He knew he should be frightened because he was certain to die, to spend the rest of his natural life as part of the sea itself, and yet…he felt secure-peaceful, even. His body rocked with the natural rhythm of the ocean, and he could feel its singing throughout his limbs as darkness began to creep along the edges of his vision.
A dark shape broke the surface of the water, plunging through the depths toward him. Something-no, someone-was swimming toward him, but who…?
Jack?
His hair and beard floated weightlessly around his face, the trinkets and beads glimmering. His loose-fitting clothes billowed out around him with every stroke of those powerful arms and every kick of those strong legs.
As he drew nearer, Will could see those impossibly dark eyes glinting in the dim light. He almost didn’t look real looking so wild and fierce and beautiful like some ancient god of the sea.
Quite suddenly Will discovered that he did want to live, that he wasn’t ready to die just yet. Panic crept into his heart as he pushed the darkness from his mind, flailing his arms and legs desperately against his watery oppressor.
Strong arms encircled his waist and soft lips met his in a kiss that tasted of the sea. Air was being forced back into his lungs as Jack breathed life into him. The panicked feeling receded as Will knew that he was going to be alright, for Jack Sparrow was the sea, and the sea had no intention of letting him die.***
* * *
Will sat up in bed, gasping for air as his dream faded from his mind. His lungs were burning for oxygen, and his heart was hammering in his chest at such a rate that Will was sure it would explode.
His gaze swept around the darkened smithy almost apprehensively as he willed his breathing and his heart rate to return to normal. He raised his fingers to his lips, and although he had never kissed anyone but Elizabeth, he found that he could still taste Jack Sparrow’s salty kiss.
* * *
Anamaria placed a hand on her captain’s back in concern as she watched him retch violently over the side of the Pearl, though she couldn’t help feeling a little smug at the arrogant man’s show of weakness. Jack normally prided himself on not having been seasick since he was a small boy, and yet here he was now, leaning over the railing of his own ship, vomiting uncontrollably into the sea.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Jack muttered, slumping against the side of the boat.
“Perhaps ye’ve just been away from the sea too long,” Gibbs suggested from the helm where he was steering.
“After all that time on the Interceptor?” Anamaria said skeptically.
Gibbs merely shrugged, apparently out of ideas. Jack groaned and rested his head in his hands, wishing for the first time in his life that the sea wouldn’t move so much.
* * *
***He was standing in Mr. Brown’s smithy, the place where he had first set eyes on Will. That seemed ages ago, but in reality it was only a little over a week ago.
There was a newly-made sword lying on the hearth near the fire. Jack picked it up, the warmth of the blade sending pleasant tingles down his arm. It was quite good, one of Will’s best works, in fact. The length of the blade was perfectly balanced with the elaborate handle.
He jumped slightly as Will slid his arms around him from behind. He leaned back against the muscular frame, sighing contentedly.
“Like it, love?” Will murmured huskily in his ear.
“It’s beautiful.” Jack replaced the sword on the hearth with proper care.
“It’s yours,” Will breathed. “I made it for you.”
He kissed Jack’s neck softly, lips ghosting over the skin while his fingers traced imaginary patterns across his chest, so soft and light that he almost couldn’t feel it. Will’s touch was like the smoke drifting up from the fire, gentle and warm, brushing and crawling across his skin.
Jack turned in Will’s arms, desperate for more contact, and wrapped his arms around the young smith. Suddenly, smoke became fire as strong arms gripped his back, lips crashing together and tongues dueling.
He was on fire, burning in Will’s embrace, and yet he wanted more, couldn’t get enough of this beautiful man kissing him passionately. He knew that everything wrong in his life would right itself if he could somehow manage to stay in the blacksmith’s arms forever.***
* * *
As the dream faded from Jack’s mind, so did the warmth and comfort. His darkened cabin suddenly seemed very cold and empty. Loneliness crept upon him, making him yearn for company…but not just anyone’s company, no. He was suddenly longing for the young man he’d left behind in Port Royal.
Jack clutched his stomach as the ship rocked in the waves. He thought of Will, back on the sturdiness of land, before the swaying ship became too much for his already weak stomach. Lunging forward, he emptied the contents of his stomach, mostly rum, into the chamber pot beside his bed.
Chapter Two: A Surprise Visit
Sparks flew into the stale air of the smithy as Will pounded out the blade for what would become a sword. The metal glowed in the dim light as Will set it by to cool.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he sat down near a bucket of water, dipping his aching hand in to soothe it. The cut on his palm still hadn’t healed even though they’d been back in Port Royal for over a week. Elizabeth’s hand had healed almost immediately, but his had barely scabbed over.
He was becoming increasingly worried over this because it was greatly hindering his work. The only time it had shown any signs of healing had been three days ago:
He’d been making a sword and thinking about the dream he’d had the previous night, a dream about Jack. As he worked he began to imagine what Jack might be doing at that very moment-probably at the helm of his beloved Pearl, staring off into the never-ending horizon, the wind whipping through his hair while the hot Caribbean sun beat down on him.
As he thought about this, he worked, not really paying too much attention to the task at hand, and a sword had formed. It was quite different from any he’d made before.
The blade was the perfect length and weight; strong, too. This sword was definitely not for show. The grip was surrounded by bold, elegant swirls of metal that would protect the hand as well as serving as decoration.
Everything about the sword reminded him of Jack. It was beautiful, yet deadly; light to carry, yet undeniably strong. Already in his mind he had dubbed it “Jack’s Sword.” He’d tucked it quietly away to give to him when and if he saw the pirate again.
After it was finished, he realized that during the entire process his hand had not hurt once. He’d removed the bandages to find a thin layer of skin healing over the wound.
Will pulled his hand out of the water to examine the cut. It had split open again the very next day and grew more and more painful with each day that passed.
He was beginning to wonder if he was slowly going insane. He found the feel of sturdy land beneath his feat maddening, longing instead for the ever-changing waves of the ocean. Each night he dreamed of the sea…and each night he dreamed of Jack.
A deep blush spread across his cheeks as he recalled last night’s dream. He’d been in Jack’s cabin on the Pearl, gentle waves rocking beneath them, when Jack had suddenly started kissing him. It was slow at first, but it turned passionate rather quickly, tongues probing, a hand sneaking up his thigh…
Will angrily forced these thoughts from his mind. He felt a sudden rush of guilt as he realized that he’d grown hard.
‘Honestly!’ he thought to himself sternly, willing his erection to get back under control. ‘Jack’s my friend. What would he think if he knew I was thinking of him in this way? And poor Elizabeth! What about her, hm?’
Still, he had to wonder if there was some possible connection between his dreams, his persistent wound, and the new longings that were growing stronger with each passing day, with each dream that he had. He’d always awaken from the dreams longing for the sea so badly that it hurt (along with another rather hard longing in his trousers) and his palm throbbing, sometimes bleeding.
He glanced at it now, noting how it looked as though is had just been cut. A voice spoke suddenly from quite close behind him.
“Mine hasn’t healed either.”
Will whirled around quickly. “Jack!”
The pirate was leaning against the wall directly behind him, grinning his usual, gold-toothed smirk. He looked much the same as the last time Will had seen him, and he noted that Jack’s hand was still bandaged, too.
Without really thinking, Will rushed forward to embrace his friend. The pirate returned the hug warmly, pleasantly surprised at the usually uptight boy’s show of affection. They stayed like that for quite some time, and Will nearly wept with joy as the world seemed to right itself once more; all his aching and longing vanished instantly, and he decided that he liked the solid feel of the earth beneath his feet.
“What are you doing here?” Will asked at last, pulling away from their hug.
“I came to ask yer opinion on something…” Jack said, unwrapping the cloth bindings from around his palm. He took Will’s injured hand in his good one, and they compared their wounds side-by-side. “…but it seems ye’ve got a similar problem yerself.”
“It hasn’t healed since I’ve been back,” Will explained.
“Nor has mine.” Jack studied him closely. “I haven’t felt quite meself since this cut was made. I was wonderin’ if it had sumthin’ to do with the curse. Tell me, has Elizabeth’s-?”
“It’s healed,” Will informed him, correctly guessing the question before it was voiced.
“Of course, she was never actually cursed,” Jack said thoughtfully.
“Neither was I,” Will reminded him. “It was my father’s share of the curse, not mine.”
“True,” he mused.
“Jack,” Will started uneasily. “I’ve also been feeling rather odd lately, pretty much ever since you sailed away from Port Royal.”
“Really?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been a bit sick since then meself. Come to think of it, that’s about the time the dreams started…”
“Dreams?”
“Er…nothin’ really,” Jack replied hastily, avoiding Will’s gaze. “Just some strange dreams I’ve been havin’ at night.”
“I’ve been having strange dreams, too,” Will said breathlessly.
“Have ye, now?” Will flushed and looked away as Jack regarded him with interest. “That’s interesting…”
“Well, what are we going to do about it?” Will asked.
Jack thought for a moment. “There is one person we could consult about this, ‘cept she lives quite a ways from here. Ye’d have to leave Port Royal fer awhile.”
“I can’t just leave,” Will said incredulously. “I have the smithy to run, and then there’s Elizabeth.”
“Aye, an’ then there’s Elizabeth,” Jack sighed, annoyance and a sudden burning hot jealousy coursing through his veins. “How is the fair Miss Swann.”
“She’s well,” he replied, but Jack noticed that he didn’t quite meet his gaze. He raised a skeptical eyebrow and waited for Will to look up at him.
When he did, he sighed and said, “Actually, I’ve been avoiding her all week. Ever since those dreams started, my feelings for her have been changing. That’s what makes me so certain that there’s something…unnatural about this whole business. After all, you don’t stop loving someone practically overnight, do you?”
“I wouldn’t know, mate. Sorry,” Jack shrugged. Some small part of him-well, actually more than just a small part-felt a fierce sort of joy in the knowledge that Will wasn’t as madly in love with Elizabeth as he had been.
‘What in God’s name’s happening t’ me?’ he wondered. ‘I’m actin’ like a jealous woman.’
Aloud he said, “Well, enough of this curse talk. When things bother me, I find it’s best to just forget about it for awhile. Why don’t we have a little something to take our minds off it.”
“Rum?” Will asked, rolling his eyes, for he already knew the answer.
“Rum,” Jack confirmed with a grin, pulling a bottle out of his coat pocket.
Will sighed but allowed Jack to pour him a small amount of rum in a cup while Jack occupied himself with the whole rest of the bottle. Will sipped his rum slowly to make it last. He’d actually grown rather fond of the taste since his adventures with Jack, but he had no intention of getting drunk…tonight especially. With Jack around, Will found that it was always best if at least one of them kept a clear head.
The rest of the evening passed by rather quickly. Jack recounted stories of his adventures, each one becoming more and more unbelievable (and sometimes obscene) the farther he got into the bottle. Will listened attentively, finding Jack’s stories quite amusing, although he made a secret game of it in his head to try and sort Jack’s stories into three categories: true, half-truths, and outright lies.
Late that night, when Will excused himself to latch the door of the smithy, he came back to find Jack sound asleep on his bed. He smiled affectionately at the older man and gently nudged him over. Crawling in bed beside him, Will blew out the candle and almost immediately fell into a restful sleep.
Neither of them dreamed that night.
Chapter Three: A New Kind of Curse
Jack awoke the next morning to the smell of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toasted bread. He wondered briefly where he was before the memories of his visit with Will slowly seeped into his sleep-clogged brain.
“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Will entered carrying a plate of food which he handed to Jack. The pirate smiled his thanks and began to eat with his usual distinct lack of manners.
Will settled himself into a chair to wait for his friend to finish breakfast. It felt so good having the older man back in his life again! He wished that Jack would stay with him in the smithy forever.
When the last of the food was eaten, Will said, “Jack, look at your palm.”
The pirate did so and blinked in surprise. A thick layer of skin had healed over the wound during the night, leaving a dark pink scar as the only indication that the cut had been there at all.
“Has yer’s-?” Jack began.
Will held out his hand for Jack to examine. Sure enough, the pink scar line was the only mark on the calloused, but otherwise unmarred, skin.
“Perhaps we overreacted?” Will suggested uneasily. “After all, it’d only been a week.”
“Perhaps,” Jack mused, but he wasn’t convinced. It wasn’t just the wound, after all; it was the dreams and the sea sickness and the raging desires in his blood…
Jack shook his head to clear his thoughts. It didn’t matter now. Whatever the problem had been, it seemed to have cleared up on its own.
“Well, I expect I should be returnin’ to the Pearl. Me crew will be wonderin’ where I am.” Jack stood reluctantly.
“Oh, right,” Will murmured, feeling as though his world was suddenly beginning to spin out of control again.
“I don’t suppose…” Jack began, an almost desperate tone to his voice. “I don’t suppose ye’d want to come with me?”
Will’s heart leapt. He’d never wanted anything so badly in his life, but Elizabeth’s face came almost immediately to mind. He knew he couldn’t abandon her.
“Jack, I can’t,” he said miserably. “I-I want to. Believe me, but-”
“I understand,” Jack said quickly, and with a brief hug, he was gone.
Will felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. The pain was even worse than when Jack had fallen from the ledge, leaving him for the first time. Will had been convinced that his heartache was caused by the fear that his friend had impaled himself on one of the rocks below, but now, when there was no danger…why was he feeling this way?
He yelped as a searing pain shot through his hand. The wound had torn itself open, blood welling up and running down his arm.
He heard a sound behind him, and he turned to see Jack standing in the doorway, pressing a blood-soaked rag to his own palm. They stared at each other for a long time, not saying a word.
* * *
“I wish you had told me about this sooner,” Elizabeth said, examining Will’s hand carefully. “I take it Jack’s is in rather the same condition?” He nodded. “Where is Jack, anyway?”
“He’s waiting for me on the Pearl,” Will explained. “I didn’t want him to risk arrest by staying in town any longer than need be.”
Elizabeth nodded her approval, carefully bandaging Will’s hand for him. Will had told her as much as he felt he could; he told her about his wound refusing to heal, the strange illness he’d had all week, and his restless nights. He’d neglected to mention the strange connection he’d seemed to have formed with Jack; instead he explained Jack’s presence by saying that Jack was suffering from many of the same symptoms.
“Perhaps you’ve both simply contracted an illness?” Elizabeth suggested. “I wouldn’t be surprised. The Black Pearl was absolutely filthy when Barbossa ran it.”
“No, it goes beyond a mere physical ailment,” Will assured her. “I told you, my feelings have been altering, too. It’s almost as though I’m becoming incapable of loving anyone.”
That was only half true. It was becoming all to clear to Will that the only person he was capable of loving at the moment was Jack…another man! Will felt more than a little disgusted with himself, and yet he caught himself wondering if Jack felt something for him, too.
“I’m not sure how long it will take to reach this…this witch woman Jack keeps talking about, but I’ll send word if I can when I arrive there.” He paused, a great sadness coming over him. “Elizabeth, if…if for some reason I’m stuck with this ‘curse,’ I-I won’t be returning to Port Royal.”
“What?! Why not?” She looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Elizabeth, you’re an amazing person,” Will sighed. “You deserve to be with someone who can love you heart and soul. If I can’t reverse this, and we decided to get married anyway, it would all be a lie. Can you really live with that?”
There was a long pause. At last, she whispered, “I understand.”
Will smiled sadly at her and leaned in to kiss his fiancé one last time. A tear slid down her cheek as she watched the young smith’s retreating form. Somehow, in her heart, she knew it would be the last she’d see of her beloved Will.
Chapter Four: Gifts and Fantasies
“There ye are,” Jack said as Will approached him on the deck of the Pearl. “I was wondering.”
“Sorry, but I had to stop by the smithy to pick up something.” Will held out a parcel to Jack, blushing slightly. “I made it for you…as a thanks for helping me rescue Elizabeth, I suppose.”
Jack carefully unwrapped the coarse brown paper. He gasped when he saw what it was; the sword Will had made for him in his dreams.
Ever so gently, he took it up, his hand fitting perfectly on the grasp. It was even more beautiful in real life that in the dream. He studied the blade and the hand guard carefully. It was certainly a powerful tool.
Jack swallowed for a moment, not sure what to say. He could see the long hours of work that Will must have put into it.
At last, Jack mumbled, “I’ve never been big on saying ‘thanks,’ but…Will, this is the fines blade I’ve ever held.”
Will flushed with pride. Even though Jack’s thank you certainly wasn’t the most eloquent he’d ever heard, the look in the older man’s eyes said all that he couldn’t put into words.
Will cleared his throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “So who exactly are we going to see, Jack?”
A small shudder passed through the captain. “Ye’ll be seein’ soon enough, lad.” With that, he strode briskly into his cabin and shut the door.
Will stared after him until a hand on his shoulder made him jump in surprise. He turned to see Mr. Gibbs looking at him intently.
“I’m not sure what ailment ye both be sufferin’ from,” he said slowly. “But it must be serious if the Captain’s willin’ to risk seein’ -her-.”
“‘Her’?” Will prompted
“Aye. ‘Tia Dalma’ she calls herself; a mystic,” Gibbs said significantly. “Everyone knows that mystics are known for experimentin’ in the dark arts. Tia Dalma not only experiments, lad, she’s famous fer it.”
* * *
***Will shoved him roughly against the wall of his cabin. Jack bit back a moan as the smith’s lips and tongue traced a hot trail of kisses down his neck. He was practically panting in Will’s arms when the younger man’s hands slid down to undo the front of his breeches.
His lover sank to his knees before him, casting him a smoldering gaze as he released his Captain’s cock from the tight confines of his trousers. Teasingly, he blew gently on the head before softly nuzzling it, loving the way the older man trembled against him.
Just when Jack thought he would go mad from the whispering caresses, Will leaned forward to slowly drag his tongue across the other man’s member, starting at the base and working his way toward the tip. Jack cried out, clutching at the back of the blacksmith’s head as he took him fully into his mouth.***
* * *
Jack came to the familiar feel of his hand on his cock. As the post-orgasm numbness left his brain, he cursed loudly.
His fantasies were becoming as vivid as his dreams. This couldn’t be a good sign.
* * *
Will approached Jack carefully as he stood at the helm, barking out orders to various crew members. He allowed his eyes to sweep admiringly over the captain’s muscular frame before shuddering and setting his face with determination.
“Jack, may I speak with you a moment?”
Jack stopped, mid-order, and looked at him in annoyance. “Can’t it wait?”
Will shook his head stubbornly, and he sighed, motioning for Anamaria to take the wheel. They silently made their way to Jack’s cabin, shutting the door behind them.
Obsidian eyes turned questioningly toward him, and Will took a deep breath. “Jack, these dreams that I’ve been having…they seem to be getting worse every day.” When Jack said nothing, he continued nervously, “The thing about these dreams, Jack, is that…well, they’re about you.”
“Oh?” Jack tried to remain nonchalant although his heart was suddenly pounding in his chest. He had a sneaking suspicion, however, that his eager curiosity must have shown because Will’s eyes widened.
“Yes,” he said cautiously. “And that’s why I think that it would be best if we tried to maintain as little contact with one another as possible until we reach this Tia Dalma woman.”
“I see.” Jack’s heart plummeted. “If that’s the way ye want it.”
“It shouldn’t be too hard,” Will mused, “on a ship of these proportions.”
Jack nodded slowly. He felt waves of hurt wash over him until he saw the pain in Will’s eyes, and he realized that Will’s decision grieved him equally.
“Jack, I-I’m not happy about this either,” Will mumbled, avoiding the older man’s gaze, “but I will not allow something to happen between us that will later damage our friendship.”
“Yer right, of course.”
As Will turned to go, Jack said, “Just so ye know, I’ve been dreamin’ of ye, too.”
Closing the door behind him, Will stood still and tried to control the pounding ache in his chest. He briefly caught himself wondering what Jack’s kiss would be like; if it would taste like ocean water the way it did in his dreams.
Chapter Five: Aztec Rituals
Will winced as Jack helped him out of the lifeboat. Ever since his little talk with Jack, his palm had been throbbing constantly. It wasn’t just his hand anymore, either. The pain had spread down through his wrist and into his arm-a hot, searing sensation as though someone had replaced his bones with heated metal. From the way Jack kept his arm hanging limply at his side, he gathered that the older man was also experiencing the increased pain.
But soon it would all be over for they had finally reached this mysterious Tia Dalma’s. They’d anchored the ship off the coast of an island that Jack said had no name. He and Jack had rowed out with Mr. Cotton and his parrot, leaving Gibbs and Anamaria to look after the Pearl and her crew.
Jack had guided them through a dense marsh, thick with trees. The air was misty, limiting their sight and giving the whole place a sticky, clammy feel.
Suddenly, a house had appeared before them, built high on stilts, and now he and Jack were clambering out of the boat and onto a sturdy wooden deck that stretched all the way around the house. Jack gave the order for Mr. Cotton and his parrot to wait for them as he quickly ushered Will inside.
They found themselves in a cramped room lit by a seemingly endless supply of candles. The scent of spices, smoke, incense, and something that smelled suspiciously like blood hung heavily in the air. In a corner, petting a rather large yellow snake, was Tia Dalma herself.
“Jack Sparrow, you come to see me,” she said, rising to greet them. She smiled in what was possibly meant to be a friendly way, but as most of her teeth had been replaced by either gold or wooden ones, the effect was quite chilling. Will could see why Jack would be nervous around such a woman.
The pirate captain coughed uncomfortably and dove into a rather hasty explanation of the reason of their visit, not even bothering to introduce Will properly. He recounted the tale of their adventures with Barbossa and their strange illness in a surprisingly forward manner, without any embellishments, for once.
“Let me see your hands,” she demanded, cutting Jack off in the middle of his complaints about his recent bout of seasickness.
Obediently, Jack and Will unwrapped their injured palms, holding them out for inspection. She roughly grabbed each hand in turn, scrutinizing them carefully before hastily dropping down into a chair next to a wooden table. Will saw that strange carvings formed a sort of chart on the polished surface.
Tia Dalma carefully shook a leather pouch, muttering to herself, and dumped the contents out before her. Strange objects spilled out, their shapes entirely foreign to Will, although he could see that they were crafter out of bones, fur, feathers, and what looked like human hair.
She studied this for a long time before saying, “These dreams…what are they about?”
“Well,” Jack began hesitantly, casting an uneasy glance at Will who was staring down at his boots, his face a deep scarlet.
“Ah,” she interrupted. “I see. These dreams have been of an…intimate nature.” She studied them for a moment before abruptly changing the subject. “Tell me, Captain Sparrow, what do you know of the Aztecs and the history of the Isla de Muerta?”
Jack pondered for a moment. “I know that when Cortez and his men first encountered the Aztecs, they were-”
“I mean before that.” Seeing the bewildered look on Jack’s face, she continued patiently. “The Isla de Muerta was originally the Aztecs holy ground. It was a sacred place used only for the casting of spells, marriage ceremonies, and the burning of the dead. Women would sometimes make the journey there to give birth.”
She paused to gather up her objects and replace them in the pouch. “An Aztec marriage ceremony is centered around the mixing of the couple’s blood. It is through the blood that a bond is formed, a magical one that binds the individuals together, body and soul. On that night, when the Curse of Cortez was lifted, that ancient bond was formed between the two of you.”
Jack swallowed hard, a lump suddenly forming in his throat. “Is there a way to reverse it?”
“The bond this marriage creates is so strong that not even death can truly separate you. I am sorry, but there is no way to undo what has been done. The two of you must accept this, or it will destroy you.”
“S-so you’re saying,” Will began in an unsteady voice, “that Jack and I actually are…are -married-?”
“Call it what you like, but essentially, yes.” She leaned forward across the table to emphasize her words. “Listen carefully, both of you. If you continue to deny your love for one another, the pain will increase to excruciating levels and spread throughout your bodies until it consumes you. Give in to your desires now if you do not wish to die a slow and painful death.”
There was silence for a long moment before Will pushed past the other two without saying a word. He made his way through the open back door of the house, slumping down to sit on the deck and staring off into the darkened marsh.
Hurt and anger that he couldn’t really explain, swelled in Jack’s heart until Tia Dalma asked, “What is the matter?” Jack shrugged, continuing to stare after Will.
“I think his emotions are quite understandable.”
“No, they’re not,” Jack suddenly raged. “It’s alright to be confused, I suppose, but does he have to be so upset? Does the idea of spending the rest of his life with me disgust him that much?”
“What have you lost from this union, Jack Sparrow?” the woman asked calmly. “Nothing, really. If anything you have gained. You have gained another able-bodied man for your crew as well as a lover and partner for life…but the boy, he has lost almost everything; his home, his profession as a blacksmith, his love for his fiancé, any friends or acquaintances he might have cherished…he will never see any of them again. He is not disgusted by you; he is in mourning for his old life which he loved. Surely you can understand that?”
Jack nodded, his heart softening as he stared out at Will’s hunched shoulders. He could remember clearly the passion in Will’s voice when he said that he would die for Elizabeth. He remembered also the pride and dedication Will had put into his sword crafting. Now, he was giving that all up to become a pirate…something he had never wanted to be.
“I understand,” Jack said, more to himself than to his companion. “I’ll take care of him, though. I won’t let my Will be unhappy.”
He stopped and thought about the words he had just spoken in disgust. ‘‘My Will’? Heavens above, I’m already sounding like a married man!’
As though reading his mind, Tia Dalma laughed and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Jack watched her as she slowly ascended the stairs to her upper rooms, leaving the two of them alone.
Swallowing his pride and putting on his usually teasing and flippant manner, he went to sit next to Will. “I never figured meself for the marryin’ kind, but I guess no one can escape it forever, eh?”
Will said nothing. He stared out into the darkness, his face unreadable.
Jack went on jokingly, hoping for Will to smile. “I know I’m a far cry from the fair Miss Swann, but I’m not that bad to looking, am I?” When Will continued to stare out in front of him, Jack’s façade finally cracked.
“Will.” He reached out and covered one of Will’s hands with his own. “I’m trying, lad, really I am.”
Will finally turned toward him, and the look in his eyes made Jack’s heart beat faster. There was fear and confusion, of course, but under that his eyes were filled with love.
“I’m afraid, Jack,” he whispered at last.
“I know,” Jack murmured reassuringly. “I’m not exactly confident about this little ‘arrangement,’ either, but we’ll make it work, luv.”
He leaned forward ever so slowly, stopping before their lips actually touched. Will stared at him a moment before hesitantly closing the space between them. In one swift rush, all the pain and anxieties left them as their bodies exhaled a deep breath that they hadn’t realized they’d been holding.
The kiss was soft and sweet, lips gently brushing against each other in a silent declaration of love. Jack cupped Will’s face in his hands as he deepened their connection, carefully exploring Will’s mouth with his tongue.
Will whimpered softly and placed a hand on Jack’s chest, feeling his pounding heart through the coarse linen shirt. He’d never felt this way before, not even with Elizabeth. There was something about this that was just so…-right-.
He began to explore Jack’s mouth in turn, trying to find each individual taste there. Jack tasted primarily of sweet rum, spices and tobacco, but there was also some underlying flavor that was all his own. Will smiled inwardly as he realized that Jack Sparrow did indeed taste of the sea.
It was a long time before they joined Mr. Cotton in the rowboat on the other side of the house.
Author: Serena-chan
Category: Movies
Sub-category: Pirates of the Caribbean
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Romance
Pairing: Jack Sparrow / Will Turner
Prologue:
Jack barely felt the sharp pain as he sliced his palm, coating the cursed gold with his blood. He kept his eyes trained on Barbossa, the post-fight adrenaline still thundering through his veins.
He briefly tore his gaze away from his ex-first mate to lock eyes with Will who was standing next to the chest of Aztec gold, sword in hand, waiting. Hurriedly, he flung the blood-soaked coin in Will’s direction, raised his pistol at Barbossa and fired.
The older pirate stumbled backward as the bullet tore through his body. Surprise glinted in Barbossa’s eyes for a moment, but that was quickly replaced with amusement.
“Jack, ye been carryin’ that pistol fer ten years,” he said, “and now ye waste yer shot.”
“No, he didn’t.”
Barbossa turned to see Will standing over the Chest of Cortez, the sword in his hand dripping with his own blood. He opened his fist, revealing his own cut palm, and dropped the two coins into the chest.
As Jack watched the gold fall from Will’s hand, time seemed to slow down. He saw every turn of the coins as they made their short decent back to the chest they had come from. The blood from Will’s palm splattered over both of them, mingling with Jack’s own blood on the glistening gold surface.
A sudden wave of dizziness made his head spin, as chills shot down his spine. He shuddered, shaking his head, and then it was over. As quickly as it had come, the strange feeling vanished, leaving him to watch as his enemy of ten years died before him.
‘The curse must be lifted,’ he thought to himself.
Chapter One: Dreams
***Will looked up through the deep blue waters of the Caribbean and watched the sunlight dance on the surface. He could feel the coolness of the ocean all around him as he exhaled the remaining air from his lungs, watching, mesmerized, as the pockets of air floated effortlessly away.
It was strange. He knew he should be frightened because he was certain to die, to spend the rest of his natural life as part of the sea itself, and yet…he felt secure-peaceful, even. His body rocked with the natural rhythm of the ocean, and he could feel its singing throughout his limbs as darkness began to creep along the edges of his vision.
A dark shape broke the surface of the water, plunging through the depths toward him. Something-no, someone-was swimming toward him, but who…?
Jack?
His hair and beard floated weightlessly around his face, the trinkets and beads glimmering. His loose-fitting clothes billowed out around him with every stroke of those powerful arms and every kick of those strong legs.
As he drew nearer, Will could see those impossibly dark eyes glinting in the dim light. He almost didn’t look real looking so wild and fierce and beautiful like some ancient god of the sea.
Quite suddenly Will discovered that he did want to live, that he wasn’t ready to die just yet. Panic crept into his heart as he pushed the darkness from his mind, flailing his arms and legs desperately against his watery oppressor.
Strong arms encircled his waist and soft lips met his in a kiss that tasted of the sea. Air was being forced back into his lungs as Jack breathed life into him. The panicked feeling receded as Will knew that he was going to be alright, for Jack Sparrow was the sea, and the sea had no intention of letting him die.***
* * *
Will sat up in bed, gasping for air as his dream faded from his mind. His lungs were burning for oxygen, and his heart was hammering in his chest at such a rate that Will was sure it would explode.
His gaze swept around the darkened smithy almost apprehensively as he willed his breathing and his heart rate to return to normal. He raised his fingers to his lips, and although he had never kissed anyone but Elizabeth, he found that he could still taste Jack Sparrow’s salty kiss.
* * *
Anamaria placed a hand on her captain’s back in concern as she watched him retch violently over the side of the Pearl, though she couldn’t help feeling a little smug at the arrogant man’s show of weakness. Jack normally prided himself on not having been seasick since he was a small boy, and yet here he was now, leaning over the railing of his own ship, vomiting uncontrollably into the sea.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Jack muttered, slumping against the side of the boat.
“Perhaps ye’ve just been away from the sea too long,” Gibbs suggested from the helm where he was steering.
“After all that time on the Interceptor?” Anamaria said skeptically.
Gibbs merely shrugged, apparently out of ideas. Jack groaned and rested his head in his hands, wishing for the first time in his life that the sea wouldn’t move so much.
* * *
***He was standing in Mr. Brown’s smithy, the place where he had first set eyes on Will. That seemed ages ago, but in reality it was only a little over a week ago.
There was a newly-made sword lying on the hearth near the fire. Jack picked it up, the warmth of the blade sending pleasant tingles down his arm. It was quite good, one of Will’s best works, in fact. The length of the blade was perfectly balanced with the elaborate handle.
He jumped slightly as Will slid his arms around him from behind. He leaned back against the muscular frame, sighing contentedly.
“Like it, love?” Will murmured huskily in his ear.
“It’s beautiful.” Jack replaced the sword on the hearth with proper care.
“It’s yours,” Will breathed. “I made it for you.”
He kissed Jack’s neck softly, lips ghosting over the skin while his fingers traced imaginary patterns across his chest, so soft and light that he almost couldn’t feel it. Will’s touch was like the smoke drifting up from the fire, gentle and warm, brushing and crawling across his skin.
Jack turned in Will’s arms, desperate for more contact, and wrapped his arms around the young smith. Suddenly, smoke became fire as strong arms gripped his back, lips crashing together and tongues dueling.
He was on fire, burning in Will’s embrace, and yet he wanted more, couldn’t get enough of this beautiful man kissing him passionately. He knew that everything wrong in his life would right itself if he could somehow manage to stay in the blacksmith’s arms forever.***
* * *
As the dream faded from Jack’s mind, so did the warmth and comfort. His darkened cabin suddenly seemed very cold and empty. Loneliness crept upon him, making him yearn for company…but not just anyone’s company, no. He was suddenly longing for the young man he’d left behind in Port Royal.
Jack clutched his stomach as the ship rocked in the waves. He thought of Will, back on the sturdiness of land, before the swaying ship became too much for his already weak stomach. Lunging forward, he emptied the contents of his stomach, mostly rum, into the chamber pot beside his bed.
Chapter Two: A Surprise Visit
Sparks flew into the stale air of the smithy as Will pounded out the blade for what would become a sword. The metal glowed in the dim light as Will set it by to cool.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he sat down near a bucket of water, dipping his aching hand in to soothe it. The cut on his palm still hadn’t healed even though they’d been back in Port Royal for over a week. Elizabeth’s hand had healed almost immediately, but his had barely scabbed over.
He was becoming increasingly worried over this because it was greatly hindering his work. The only time it had shown any signs of healing had been three days ago:
He’d been making a sword and thinking about the dream he’d had the previous night, a dream about Jack. As he worked he began to imagine what Jack might be doing at that very moment-probably at the helm of his beloved Pearl, staring off into the never-ending horizon, the wind whipping through his hair while the hot Caribbean sun beat down on him.
As he thought about this, he worked, not really paying too much attention to the task at hand, and a sword had formed. It was quite different from any he’d made before.
The blade was the perfect length and weight; strong, too. This sword was definitely not for show. The grip was surrounded by bold, elegant swirls of metal that would protect the hand as well as serving as decoration.
Everything about the sword reminded him of Jack. It was beautiful, yet deadly; light to carry, yet undeniably strong. Already in his mind he had dubbed it “Jack’s Sword.” He’d tucked it quietly away to give to him when and if he saw the pirate again.
After it was finished, he realized that during the entire process his hand had not hurt once. He’d removed the bandages to find a thin layer of skin healing over the wound.
Will pulled his hand out of the water to examine the cut. It had split open again the very next day and grew more and more painful with each day that passed.
He was beginning to wonder if he was slowly going insane. He found the feel of sturdy land beneath his feat maddening, longing instead for the ever-changing waves of the ocean. Each night he dreamed of the sea…and each night he dreamed of Jack.
A deep blush spread across his cheeks as he recalled last night’s dream. He’d been in Jack’s cabin on the Pearl, gentle waves rocking beneath them, when Jack had suddenly started kissing him. It was slow at first, but it turned passionate rather quickly, tongues probing, a hand sneaking up his thigh…
Will angrily forced these thoughts from his mind. He felt a sudden rush of guilt as he realized that he’d grown hard.
‘Honestly!’ he thought to himself sternly, willing his erection to get back under control. ‘Jack’s my friend. What would he think if he knew I was thinking of him in this way? And poor Elizabeth! What about her, hm?’
Still, he had to wonder if there was some possible connection between his dreams, his persistent wound, and the new longings that were growing stronger with each passing day, with each dream that he had. He’d always awaken from the dreams longing for the sea so badly that it hurt (along with another rather hard longing in his trousers) and his palm throbbing, sometimes bleeding.
He glanced at it now, noting how it looked as though is had just been cut. A voice spoke suddenly from quite close behind him.
“Mine hasn’t healed either.”
Will whirled around quickly. “Jack!”
The pirate was leaning against the wall directly behind him, grinning his usual, gold-toothed smirk. He looked much the same as the last time Will had seen him, and he noted that Jack’s hand was still bandaged, too.
Without really thinking, Will rushed forward to embrace his friend. The pirate returned the hug warmly, pleasantly surprised at the usually uptight boy’s show of affection. They stayed like that for quite some time, and Will nearly wept with joy as the world seemed to right itself once more; all his aching and longing vanished instantly, and he decided that he liked the solid feel of the earth beneath his feet.
“What are you doing here?” Will asked at last, pulling away from their hug.
“I came to ask yer opinion on something…” Jack said, unwrapping the cloth bindings from around his palm. He took Will’s injured hand in his good one, and they compared their wounds side-by-side. “…but it seems ye’ve got a similar problem yerself.”
“It hasn’t healed since I’ve been back,” Will explained.
“Nor has mine.” Jack studied him closely. “I haven’t felt quite meself since this cut was made. I was wonderin’ if it had sumthin’ to do with the curse. Tell me, has Elizabeth’s-?”
“It’s healed,” Will informed him, correctly guessing the question before it was voiced.
“Of course, she was never actually cursed,” Jack said thoughtfully.
“Neither was I,” Will reminded him. “It was my father’s share of the curse, not mine.”
“True,” he mused.
“Jack,” Will started uneasily. “I’ve also been feeling rather odd lately, pretty much ever since you sailed away from Port Royal.”
“Really?” Jack raised an eyebrow. “I’ve been a bit sick since then meself. Come to think of it, that’s about the time the dreams started…”
“Dreams?”
“Er…nothin’ really,” Jack replied hastily, avoiding Will’s gaze. “Just some strange dreams I’ve been havin’ at night.”
“I’ve been having strange dreams, too,” Will said breathlessly.
“Have ye, now?” Will flushed and looked away as Jack regarded him with interest. “That’s interesting…”
“Well, what are we going to do about it?” Will asked.
Jack thought for a moment. “There is one person we could consult about this, ‘cept she lives quite a ways from here. Ye’d have to leave Port Royal fer awhile.”
“I can’t just leave,” Will said incredulously. “I have the smithy to run, and then there’s Elizabeth.”
“Aye, an’ then there’s Elizabeth,” Jack sighed, annoyance and a sudden burning hot jealousy coursing through his veins. “How is the fair Miss Swann.”
“She’s well,” he replied, but Jack noticed that he didn’t quite meet his gaze. He raised a skeptical eyebrow and waited for Will to look up at him.
When he did, he sighed and said, “Actually, I’ve been avoiding her all week. Ever since those dreams started, my feelings for her have been changing. That’s what makes me so certain that there’s something…unnatural about this whole business. After all, you don’t stop loving someone practically overnight, do you?”
“I wouldn’t know, mate. Sorry,” Jack shrugged. Some small part of him-well, actually more than just a small part-felt a fierce sort of joy in the knowledge that Will wasn’t as madly in love with Elizabeth as he had been.
‘What in God’s name’s happening t’ me?’ he wondered. ‘I’m actin’ like a jealous woman.’
Aloud he said, “Well, enough of this curse talk. When things bother me, I find it’s best to just forget about it for awhile. Why don’t we have a little something to take our minds off it.”
“Rum?” Will asked, rolling his eyes, for he already knew the answer.
“Rum,” Jack confirmed with a grin, pulling a bottle out of his coat pocket.
Will sighed but allowed Jack to pour him a small amount of rum in a cup while Jack occupied himself with the whole rest of the bottle. Will sipped his rum slowly to make it last. He’d actually grown rather fond of the taste since his adventures with Jack, but he had no intention of getting drunk…tonight especially. With Jack around, Will found that it was always best if at least one of them kept a clear head.
The rest of the evening passed by rather quickly. Jack recounted stories of his adventures, each one becoming more and more unbelievable (and sometimes obscene) the farther he got into the bottle. Will listened attentively, finding Jack’s stories quite amusing, although he made a secret game of it in his head to try and sort Jack’s stories into three categories: true, half-truths, and outright lies.
Late that night, when Will excused himself to latch the door of the smithy, he came back to find Jack sound asleep on his bed. He smiled affectionately at the older man and gently nudged him over. Crawling in bed beside him, Will blew out the candle and almost immediately fell into a restful sleep.
Neither of them dreamed that night.
Chapter Three: A New Kind of Curse
Jack awoke the next morning to the smell of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toasted bread. He wondered briefly where he was before the memories of his visit with Will slowly seeped into his sleep-clogged brain.
“Oh, good, you’re awake.” Will entered carrying a plate of food which he handed to Jack. The pirate smiled his thanks and began to eat with his usual distinct lack of manners.
Will settled himself into a chair to wait for his friend to finish breakfast. It felt so good having the older man back in his life again! He wished that Jack would stay with him in the smithy forever.
When the last of the food was eaten, Will said, “Jack, look at your palm.”
The pirate did so and blinked in surprise. A thick layer of skin had healed over the wound during the night, leaving a dark pink scar as the only indication that the cut had been there at all.
“Has yer’s-?” Jack began.
Will held out his hand for Jack to examine. Sure enough, the pink scar line was the only mark on the calloused, but otherwise unmarred, skin.
“Perhaps we overreacted?” Will suggested uneasily. “After all, it’d only been a week.”
“Perhaps,” Jack mused, but he wasn’t convinced. It wasn’t just the wound, after all; it was the dreams and the sea sickness and the raging desires in his blood…
Jack shook his head to clear his thoughts. It didn’t matter now. Whatever the problem had been, it seemed to have cleared up on its own.
“Well, I expect I should be returnin’ to the Pearl. Me crew will be wonderin’ where I am.” Jack stood reluctantly.
“Oh, right,” Will murmured, feeling as though his world was suddenly beginning to spin out of control again.
“I don’t suppose…” Jack began, an almost desperate tone to his voice. “I don’t suppose ye’d want to come with me?”
Will’s heart leapt. He’d never wanted anything so badly in his life, but Elizabeth’s face came almost immediately to mind. He knew he couldn’t abandon her.
“Jack, I can’t,” he said miserably. “I-I want to. Believe me, but-”
“I understand,” Jack said quickly, and with a brief hug, he was gone.
Will felt as though his heart had been ripped from his chest. The pain was even worse than when Jack had fallen from the ledge, leaving him for the first time. Will had been convinced that his heartache was caused by the fear that his friend had impaled himself on one of the rocks below, but now, when there was no danger…why was he feeling this way?
He yelped as a searing pain shot through his hand. The wound had torn itself open, blood welling up and running down his arm.
He heard a sound behind him, and he turned to see Jack standing in the doorway, pressing a blood-soaked rag to his own palm. They stared at each other for a long time, not saying a word.
* * *
“I wish you had told me about this sooner,” Elizabeth said, examining Will’s hand carefully. “I take it Jack’s is in rather the same condition?” He nodded. “Where is Jack, anyway?”
“He’s waiting for me on the Pearl,” Will explained. “I didn’t want him to risk arrest by staying in town any longer than need be.”
Elizabeth nodded her approval, carefully bandaging Will’s hand for him. Will had told her as much as he felt he could; he told her about his wound refusing to heal, the strange illness he’d had all week, and his restless nights. He’d neglected to mention the strange connection he’d seemed to have formed with Jack; instead he explained Jack’s presence by saying that Jack was suffering from many of the same symptoms.
“Perhaps you’ve both simply contracted an illness?” Elizabeth suggested. “I wouldn’t be surprised. The Black Pearl was absolutely filthy when Barbossa ran it.”
“No, it goes beyond a mere physical ailment,” Will assured her. “I told you, my feelings have been altering, too. It’s almost as though I’m becoming incapable of loving anyone.”
That was only half true. It was becoming all to clear to Will that the only person he was capable of loving at the moment was Jack…another man! Will felt more than a little disgusted with himself, and yet he caught himself wondering if Jack felt something for him, too.
“I’m not sure how long it will take to reach this…this witch woman Jack keeps talking about, but I’ll send word if I can when I arrive there.” He paused, a great sadness coming over him. “Elizabeth, if…if for some reason I’m stuck with this ‘curse,’ I-I won’t be returning to Port Royal.”
“What?! Why not?” She looked up at him with wide eyes.
“Elizabeth, you’re an amazing person,” Will sighed. “You deserve to be with someone who can love you heart and soul. If I can’t reverse this, and we decided to get married anyway, it would all be a lie. Can you really live with that?”
There was a long pause. At last, she whispered, “I understand.”
Will smiled sadly at her and leaned in to kiss his fiancé one last time. A tear slid down her cheek as she watched the young smith’s retreating form. Somehow, in her heart, she knew it would be the last she’d see of her beloved Will.
Chapter Four: Gifts and Fantasies
“There ye are,” Jack said as Will approached him on the deck of the Pearl. “I was wondering.”
“Sorry, but I had to stop by the smithy to pick up something.” Will held out a parcel to Jack, blushing slightly. “I made it for you…as a thanks for helping me rescue Elizabeth, I suppose.”
Jack carefully unwrapped the coarse brown paper. He gasped when he saw what it was; the sword Will had made for him in his dreams.
Ever so gently, he took it up, his hand fitting perfectly on the grasp. It was even more beautiful in real life that in the dream. He studied the blade and the hand guard carefully. It was certainly a powerful tool.
Jack swallowed for a moment, not sure what to say. He could see the long hours of work that Will must have put into it.
At last, Jack mumbled, “I’ve never been big on saying ‘thanks,’ but…Will, this is the fines blade I’ve ever held.”
Will flushed with pride. Even though Jack’s thank you certainly wasn’t the most eloquent he’d ever heard, the look in the older man’s eyes said all that he couldn’t put into words.
Will cleared his throat, suddenly feeling uncomfortable. “So who exactly are we going to see, Jack?”
A small shudder passed through the captain. “Ye’ll be seein’ soon enough, lad.” With that, he strode briskly into his cabin and shut the door.
Will stared after him until a hand on his shoulder made him jump in surprise. He turned to see Mr. Gibbs looking at him intently.
“I’m not sure what ailment ye both be sufferin’ from,” he said slowly. “But it must be serious if the Captain’s willin’ to risk seein’ -her-.”
“‘Her’?” Will prompted
“Aye. ‘Tia Dalma’ she calls herself; a mystic,” Gibbs said significantly. “Everyone knows that mystics are known for experimentin’ in the dark arts. Tia Dalma not only experiments, lad, she’s famous fer it.”
* * *
***Will shoved him roughly against the wall of his cabin. Jack bit back a moan as the smith’s lips and tongue traced a hot trail of kisses down his neck. He was practically panting in Will’s arms when the younger man’s hands slid down to undo the front of his breeches.
His lover sank to his knees before him, casting him a smoldering gaze as he released his Captain’s cock from the tight confines of his trousers. Teasingly, he blew gently on the head before softly nuzzling it, loving the way the older man trembled against him.
Just when Jack thought he would go mad from the whispering caresses, Will leaned forward to slowly drag his tongue across the other man’s member, starting at the base and working his way toward the tip. Jack cried out, clutching at the back of the blacksmith’s head as he took him fully into his mouth.***
* * *
Jack came to the familiar feel of his hand on his cock. As the post-orgasm numbness left his brain, he cursed loudly.
His fantasies were becoming as vivid as his dreams. This couldn’t be a good sign.
* * *
Will approached Jack carefully as he stood at the helm, barking out orders to various crew members. He allowed his eyes to sweep admiringly over the captain’s muscular frame before shuddering and setting his face with determination.
“Jack, may I speak with you a moment?”
Jack stopped, mid-order, and looked at him in annoyance. “Can’t it wait?”
Will shook his head stubbornly, and he sighed, motioning for Anamaria to take the wheel. They silently made their way to Jack’s cabin, shutting the door behind them.
Obsidian eyes turned questioningly toward him, and Will took a deep breath. “Jack, these dreams that I’ve been having…they seem to be getting worse every day.” When Jack said nothing, he continued nervously, “The thing about these dreams, Jack, is that…well, they’re about you.”
“Oh?” Jack tried to remain nonchalant although his heart was suddenly pounding in his chest. He had a sneaking suspicion, however, that his eager curiosity must have shown because Will’s eyes widened.
“Yes,” he said cautiously. “And that’s why I think that it would be best if we tried to maintain as little contact with one another as possible until we reach this Tia Dalma woman.”
“I see.” Jack’s heart plummeted. “If that’s the way ye want it.”
“It shouldn’t be too hard,” Will mused, “on a ship of these proportions.”
Jack nodded slowly. He felt waves of hurt wash over him until he saw the pain in Will’s eyes, and he realized that Will’s decision grieved him equally.
“Jack, I-I’m not happy about this either,” Will mumbled, avoiding the older man’s gaze, “but I will not allow something to happen between us that will later damage our friendship.”
“Yer right, of course.”
As Will turned to go, Jack said, “Just so ye know, I’ve been dreamin’ of ye, too.”
Closing the door behind him, Will stood still and tried to control the pounding ache in his chest. He briefly caught himself wondering what Jack’s kiss would be like; if it would taste like ocean water the way it did in his dreams.
Chapter Five: Aztec Rituals
Will winced as Jack helped him out of the lifeboat. Ever since his little talk with Jack, his palm had been throbbing constantly. It wasn’t just his hand anymore, either. The pain had spread down through his wrist and into his arm-a hot, searing sensation as though someone had replaced his bones with heated metal. From the way Jack kept his arm hanging limply at his side, he gathered that the older man was also experiencing the increased pain.
But soon it would all be over for they had finally reached this mysterious Tia Dalma’s. They’d anchored the ship off the coast of an island that Jack said had no name. He and Jack had rowed out with Mr. Cotton and his parrot, leaving Gibbs and Anamaria to look after the Pearl and her crew.
Jack had guided them through a dense marsh, thick with trees. The air was misty, limiting their sight and giving the whole place a sticky, clammy feel.
Suddenly, a house had appeared before them, built high on stilts, and now he and Jack were clambering out of the boat and onto a sturdy wooden deck that stretched all the way around the house. Jack gave the order for Mr. Cotton and his parrot to wait for them as he quickly ushered Will inside.
They found themselves in a cramped room lit by a seemingly endless supply of candles. The scent of spices, smoke, incense, and something that smelled suspiciously like blood hung heavily in the air. In a corner, petting a rather large yellow snake, was Tia Dalma herself.
“Jack Sparrow, you come to see me,” she said, rising to greet them. She smiled in what was possibly meant to be a friendly way, but as most of her teeth had been replaced by either gold or wooden ones, the effect was quite chilling. Will could see why Jack would be nervous around such a woman.
The pirate captain coughed uncomfortably and dove into a rather hasty explanation of the reason of their visit, not even bothering to introduce Will properly. He recounted the tale of their adventures with Barbossa and their strange illness in a surprisingly forward manner, without any embellishments, for once.
“Let me see your hands,” she demanded, cutting Jack off in the middle of his complaints about his recent bout of seasickness.
Obediently, Jack and Will unwrapped their injured palms, holding them out for inspection. She roughly grabbed each hand in turn, scrutinizing them carefully before hastily dropping down into a chair next to a wooden table. Will saw that strange carvings formed a sort of chart on the polished surface.
Tia Dalma carefully shook a leather pouch, muttering to herself, and dumped the contents out before her. Strange objects spilled out, their shapes entirely foreign to Will, although he could see that they were crafter out of bones, fur, feathers, and what looked like human hair.
She studied this for a long time before saying, “These dreams…what are they about?”
“Well,” Jack began hesitantly, casting an uneasy glance at Will who was staring down at his boots, his face a deep scarlet.
“Ah,” she interrupted. “I see. These dreams have been of an…intimate nature.” She studied them for a moment before abruptly changing the subject. “Tell me, Captain Sparrow, what do you know of the Aztecs and the history of the Isla de Muerta?”
Jack pondered for a moment. “I know that when Cortez and his men first encountered the Aztecs, they were-”
“I mean before that.” Seeing the bewildered look on Jack’s face, she continued patiently. “The Isla de Muerta was originally the Aztecs holy ground. It was a sacred place used only for the casting of spells, marriage ceremonies, and the burning of the dead. Women would sometimes make the journey there to give birth.”
She paused to gather up her objects and replace them in the pouch. “An Aztec marriage ceremony is centered around the mixing of the couple’s blood. It is through the blood that a bond is formed, a magical one that binds the individuals together, body and soul. On that night, when the Curse of Cortez was lifted, that ancient bond was formed between the two of you.”
Jack swallowed hard, a lump suddenly forming in his throat. “Is there a way to reverse it?”
“The bond this marriage creates is so strong that not even death can truly separate you. I am sorry, but there is no way to undo what has been done. The two of you must accept this, or it will destroy you.”
“S-so you’re saying,” Will began in an unsteady voice, “that Jack and I actually are…are -married-?”
“Call it what you like, but essentially, yes.” She leaned forward across the table to emphasize her words. “Listen carefully, both of you. If you continue to deny your love for one another, the pain will increase to excruciating levels and spread throughout your bodies until it consumes you. Give in to your desires now if you do not wish to die a slow and painful death.”
There was silence for a long moment before Will pushed past the other two without saying a word. He made his way through the open back door of the house, slumping down to sit on the deck and staring off into the darkened marsh.
Hurt and anger that he couldn’t really explain, swelled in Jack’s heart until Tia Dalma asked, “What is the matter?” Jack shrugged, continuing to stare after Will.
“I think his emotions are quite understandable.”
“No, they’re not,” Jack suddenly raged. “It’s alright to be confused, I suppose, but does he have to be so upset? Does the idea of spending the rest of his life with me disgust him that much?”
“What have you lost from this union, Jack Sparrow?” the woman asked calmly. “Nothing, really. If anything you have gained. You have gained another able-bodied man for your crew as well as a lover and partner for life…but the boy, he has lost almost everything; his home, his profession as a blacksmith, his love for his fiancé, any friends or acquaintances he might have cherished…he will never see any of them again. He is not disgusted by you; he is in mourning for his old life which he loved. Surely you can understand that?”
Jack nodded, his heart softening as he stared out at Will’s hunched shoulders. He could remember clearly the passion in Will’s voice when he said that he would die for Elizabeth. He remembered also the pride and dedication Will had put into his sword crafting. Now, he was giving that all up to become a pirate…something he had never wanted to be.
“I understand,” Jack said, more to himself than to his companion. “I’ll take care of him, though. I won’t let my Will be unhappy.”
He stopped and thought about the words he had just spoken in disgust. ‘‘My Will’? Heavens above, I’m already sounding like a married man!’
As though reading his mind, Tia Dalma laughed and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Jack watched her as she slowly ascended the stairs to her upper rooms, leaving the two of them alone.
Swallowing his pride and putting on his usually teasing and flippant manner, he went to sit next to Will. “I never figured meself for the marryin’ kind, but I guess no one can escape it forever, eh?”
Will said nothing. He stared out into the darkness, his face unreadable.
Jack went on jokingly, hoping for Will to smile. “I know I’m a far cry from the fair Miss Swann, but I’m not that bad to looking, am I?” When Will continued to stare out in front of him, Jack’s façade finally cracked.
“Will.” He reached out and covered one of Will’s hands with his own. “I’m trying, lad, really I am.”
Will finally turned toward him, and the look in his eyes made Jack’s heart beat faster. There was fear and confusion, of course, but under that his eyes were filled with love.
“I’m afraid, Jack,” he whispered at last.
“I know,” Jack murmured reassuringly. “I’m not exactly confident about this little ‘arrangement,’ either, but we’ll make it work, luv.”
He leaned forward ever so slowly, stopping before their lips actually touched. Will stared at him a moment before hesitantly closing the space between them. In one swift rush, all the pain and anxieties left them as their bodies exhaled a deep breath that they hadn’t realized they’d been holding.
The kiss was soft and sweet, lips gently brushing against each other in a silent declaration of love. Jack cupped Will’s face in his hands as he deepened their connection, carefully exploring Will’s mouth with his tongue.
Will whimpered softly and placed a hand on Jack’s chest, feeling his pounding heart through the coarse linen shirt. He’d never felt this way before, not even with Elizabeth. There was something about this that was just so…-right-.
He began to explore Jack’s mouth in turn, trying to find each individual taste there. Jack tasted primarily of sweet rum, spices and tobacco, but there was also some underlying flavor that was all his own. Will smiled inwardly as he realized that Jack Sparrow did indeed taste of the sea.
It was a long time before they joined Mr. Cotton in the rowboat on the other side of the house.