Dark Lady-Chapter Two
Title: Dark Lady
Chapter Two: Interrupted Dreams
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Characters: Jack and someone else (more on this in the note), Tia Dalma.
Disclaimers: I make no claim on any of this. Disney owns all rights. I just plunder.
Rating: Mature
Notes: The plotbunny comes from
compassrose7577, in a conversation we had over my witching hour fic “Song of the Black Pearl.” It just hit me and the rest as we say is history. Now, there is a lady in this fic, and no, her name is not Elizabeth Swann. For those of you concerned, she is neither an OC nor a Mary-Sue. So read on, gentlepirates and meet the Dark Lady.
This Chapter: Jack finds out that dreams are not always a comfortable place to be and sometimes, they intrude on reality.
Chapter One can be found here.
*--------------------------------------------------------------*
Jack staggered to his bunk, wanting nothing so much as a bit of rum to soothe his aching head and as much sleep as he could afford. They were still three days out from Tortuga, and he’d been victim to strange dreams every night. She was always in his dreams, haunting and alluring. Jack snatched the bottle of rum from its padded niche and took a hearty swallow, savoring the slow burn down his throat and in his gut. He snatched a bit of cheese left over from this morning and chewed on it thoughtfully.
Truth to tell, they weren’t bad dreams, just decidedly odd. She was waiting for him every time he closed his eyes, patient and smiling. What had started out as tentative kisses suited to an inexperienced girl had soon gained more assurance and boldness. Jack was well used to the dreams any sailor suffered from when out at sea for months at a time and without ‘companionship.’ But these were nothing like those. She reminded him a bit of Lizzie Swann when he had first met her. Young and not worldly at all.
Jack leaned back in his chair, cradling the rum to his chest. His eyelids drooped with weariness as he mulled over his dream visitor. He came awake abruptly as the rum bottle was taken from relaxing fingers. She stood over him, dark eyes amused, the bottle corked and dangling from her fingers. “You really shouldn’t fall asleep sitting up, Jack.” She scolded teasingly.
Jack sat up straighter, lifting a brow at her. “Comin’ from a figment of me vivid ‘magination, that’s a bit o’strange, luv.”
She didn’t smile at his sally, turning to slide the bottle back into its place. “Is it then? I wouldn’t know.”
Jack snorted. “O’course not. Yer just hauntin’ me cabin fer what? Dead an’ bored with the harps an’ such?”
This time she did smile. “No. I’m not dead. I might have been once, but that was a long time ago and I don’t really remember it all that clearly.” She turns away to lean on the casement, limned by the moonlight that seeped through the clouds. “I remember you. I’ll always remember you.”
Jack was puzzled by her words. Then he dismissed them with a twitch of a shoulder and an impatient wave. It was a dream, right? And dreams didn’t have to make sense. “So, what brings ye here t’haunt me night after night, lass?”
She smiled tiredly, lashes dropping over those dark eyes. “Am I haunting you? Or are you haunting me?”
“Eh?”
She looked into the night again. “It’s a lovely night. Do you think we could go up on deck for a bit? I want to feel the wind on my face.”
Jack snorted. “G’wan with ye. I’d look a right git wanderin’ bout the deck, an’ talkin’ to meself. Ye wanna take a stroll-about, go right ‘head, luv. I’ll stay here wit’ me rum.”
Her dark eyes filled with sadness and Jack felt guilty for making them look like that. Then he snorted. He’d be damned if he’d apologize to a dream!
She turned and offered him a sad, sad smile. “I understand. I’ll leave you be then.” Like a candle flame she vanished between one breath and the next. Jack rose and touched the casement where she had been leaning. The wood was warm beneath his fingers, the lingering warmth of human contact. He could smell her in the enclosed space. Unlike his light o’loves with their flowery perfumes in Tortuga, she smelled of seawind and spice, silk and salt.
“Luv?” Jack asked the silent cabin.
“Where’d you get to, lass?”
There was no answer save the shush of the waves against the Pearl’s hull and the creak of rigging and timber. He could hear the soft murmurs of the night watch as they went about their business, but there wasn’t a feminine voice to be heard. “Lass?” Jack asked the silence one last time before groaning and falling onto his bunk. And he thought he’d been going insane in the locker! Sleep claimed him as he stared at the familiar curves of his beloved Pearl.
“Him would rip the living heart outta her chest, wouldn’t him now, canny Jack?”
Jack started with a lurch. There was someone in his cabin and it sure enough wasn’t his dark wraith of a lady. Calypso, wearing the familiar face of her human form, lounged in his chair, dark skinned fingers busily plaiting a thin cord out of something dark. “Tia?”
“’Ello, me clever Jack. So y’got you pretty Pearl back from ol’ Hector, den? Canny Jack, always wit’ a plan an’ more up his sleeves dan him hands, no?”
“Hello, luv. Wot brings yer wateryness up from the depths? Ol’ Will not doing his job right?”
She leaned back in his chair, baring blackened teeth in a mocking grin. “Him do him job right an’ proper, canny Jack. You do me a good turn when you wrap him hand ‘round de hilt. De ferryman o’souls do him job fait’fully an’ well. Him not end like Davy Jones. Like you, him far too clever for dat.” She returned her attention to the thin strand she was braiding.
“Well, then wot brings ye all uninvited to me cabin, Tia-my-luv? Surely a goddess has better things t’do wit’ her time than being all social-like wit’ one captain, no matter how charmin,’ handsome and altogether clever a rogue he may be. Savvy?” Jack reached for the flask in one of the many pockets of his tattered greatcoat. He swallowed, feeling the burn of the rum with something approaching amusement. Could one get properly drunk on dream rum? Jack intended to find out.
Dark fingers suddenly plucked the flask from his fingers. Jack looked up into Calypso’s fathomless eyes, full of things no mortal should see. He shuddered as she took a healthy swig from the neck of his flask. “Dis one has no concern wit’ what you do or not do, canny Jack, save as it affects me an’ mine.” She drank again and handed the flask back to him and Jack was dismayed to feel the lack of weight. She had drained the bloody thing dry!
“Then wot brings ye all unasked for to drink me rum?” Jack scowled at the goddess given human shape standing in his cabin. Did she have to drink all the bloody rum?
“Be watchin’ dat too clever tongue, canny Jack, for I’m minded t’member why I tried to kill you once afore.”
Jack found his fingers involuntarily tracing a thin white scar on his throat. Swallowing and covering the motion with a scowl, he glared at his unwelcome visitor. “So wot brings ye t’disturb me slumber?”
Tia settled on the edge of his bunk and Jack shied away like a spooked horse. Strong fingers closed around his wrist before he could escape. “You not so clever dis time, Jack, o’dat you can be sure. What a goddess binds stays bound for all o’time. An’ dis time I bind you.” Jack felt the little bit of rum he’d swallowed trying to make an encore appearance as her eyes shifted, shading through all the colors of the sea in rapid succession. “Walk de shore only a day, never t’rest while land beneath you heels. Longer you linger, sicker you are. Till gem an’ bird t’gether sealed, you may go, but never far.” Clever fingers knotted the thin strand they had plaited around his wrist and Calypso smiled a shark’s grin. “Like me ferryman, you dare not t’go too far from you heart, canny Jack. Member dat! Ol’ Tia’s got her uses for you and she not like t’lose what’s hers again. She lost once, never again, canny Jack. You belong on de water, at de helm of you Pearl.”
Jack came awake, cursing fit to set the air afire. Damn it, was he never to get a bit of uninterrupted slumber? First his unwelcome ghost, she of sad eyes and sadder smiles and now Calypso herself deciding to take nocturnal strolls through his dreams.
Jack found his flask still in his pocket and dug it out, weighing it thoughtfully. Still full as it had been when he’d stowed it there. He’d chase dream rum and dream visitors away with real rum. As he lifted the flask to take a healthy draught, he felt his blood freeze in his veins. Around his wrist was a thin plait of dark hair. Shaking, he tipped his flask… and spluttered. His flask was full of seawater!
“Why’s the rum always gone?”
On to chapter three.
Chapter Two: Interrupted Dreams
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Characters: Jack and someone else (more on this in the note), Tia Dalma.
Disclaimers: I make no claim on any of this. Disney owns all rights. I just plunder.
Rating: Mature
Notes: The plotbunny comes from
compassrose7577, in a conversation we had over my witching hour fic “Song of the Black Pearl.” It just hit me and the rest as we say is history. Now, there is a lady in this fic, and no, her name is not Elizabeth Swann. For those of you concerned, she is neither an OC nor a Mary-Sue. So read on, gentlepirates and meet the Dark Lady.
This Chapter: Jack finds out that dreams are not always a comfortable place to be and sometimes, they intrude on reality.
Chapter One can be found here.
*--------------------------------------------------------------*
Jack staggered to his bunk, wanting nothing so much as a bit of rum to soothe his aching head and as much sleep as he could afford. They were still three days out from Tortuga, and he’d been victim to strange dreams every night. She was always in his dreams, haunting and alluring. Jack snatched the bottle of rum from its padded niche and took a hearty swallow, savoring the slow burn down his throat and in his gut. He snatched a bit of cheese left over from this morning and chewed on it thoughtfully.
Truth to tell, they weren’t bad dreams, just decidedly odd. She was waiting for him every time he closed his eyes, patient and smiling. What had started out as tentative kisses suited to an inexperienced girl had soon gained more assurance and boldness. Jack was well used to the dreams any sailor suffered from when out at sea for months at a time and without ‘companionship.’ But these were nothing like those. She reminded him a bit of Lizzie Swann when he had first met her. Young and not worldly at all.
Jack leaned back in his chair, cradling the rum to his chest. His eyelids drooped with weariness as he mulled over his dream visitor. He came awake abruptly as the rum bottle was taken from relaxing fingers. She stood over him, dark eyes amused, the bottle corked and dangling from her fingers. “You really shouldn’t fall asleep sitting up, Jack.” She scolded teasingly.
Jack sat up straighter, lifting a brow at her. “Comin’ from a figment of me vivid ‘magination, that’s a bit o’strange, luv.”
She didn’t smile at his sally, turning to slide the bottle back into its place. “Is it then? I wouldn’t know.”
Jack snorted. “O’course not. Yer just hauntin’ me cabin fer what? Dead an’ bored with the harps an’ such?”
This time she did smile. “No. I’m not dead. I might have been once, but that was a long time ago and I don’t really remember it all that clearly.” She turns away to lean on the casement, limned by the moonlight that seeped through the clouds. “I remember you. I’ll always remember you.”
Jack was puzzled by her words. Then he dismissed them with a twitch of a shoulder and an impatient wave. It was a dream, right? And dreams didn’t have to make sense. “So, what brings ye here t’haunt me night after night, lass?”
She smiled tiredly, lashes dropping over those dark eyes. “Am I haunting you? Or are you haunting me?”
“Eh?”
She looked into the night again. “It’s a lovely night. Do you think we could go up on deck for a bit? I want to feel the wind on my face.”
Jack snorted. “G’wan with ye. I’d look a right git wanderin’ bout the deck, an’ talkin’ to meself. Ye wanna take a stroll-about, go right ‘head, luv. I’ll stay here wit’ me rum.”
Her dark eyes filled with sadness and Jack felt guilty for making them look like that. Then he snorted. He’d be damned if he’d apologize to a dream!
She turned and offered him a sad, sad smile. “I understand. I’ll leave you be then.” Like a candle flame she vanished between one breath and the next. Jack rose and touched the casement where she had been leaning. The wood was warm beneath his fingers, the lingering warmth of human contact. He could smell her in the enclosed space. Unlike his light o’loves with their flowery perfumes in Tortuga, she smelled of seawind and spice, silk and salt.
“Luv?” Jack asked the silent cabin.
“Where’d you get to, lass?”
There was no answer save the shush of the waves against the Pearl’s hull and the creak of rigging and timber. He could hear the soft murmurs of the night watch as they went about their business, but there wasn’t a feminine voice to be heard. “Lass?” Jack asked the silence one last time before groaning and falling onto his bunk. And he thought he’d been going insane in the locker! Sleep claimed him as he stared at the familiar curves of his beloved Pearl.
“Him would rip the living heart outta her chest, wouldn’t him now, canny Jack?”
Jack started with a lurch. There was someone in his cabin and it sure enough wasn’t his dark wraith of a lady. Calypso, wearing the familiar face of her human form, lounged in his chair, dark skinned fingers busily plaiting a thin cord out of something dark. “Tia?”
“’Ello, me clever Jack. So y’got you pretty Pearl back from ol’ Hector, den? Canny Jack, always wit’ a plan an’ more up his sleeves dan him hands, no?”
“Hello, luv. Wot brings yer wateryness up from the depths? Ol’ Will not doing his job right?”
She leaned back in his chair, baring blackened teeth in a mocking grin. “Him do him job right an’ proper, canny Jack. You do me a good turn when you wrap him hand ‘round de hilt. De ferryman o’souls do him job fait’fully an’ well. Him not end like Davy Jones. Like you, him far too clever for dat.” She returned her attention to the thin strand she was braiding.
“Well, then wot brings ye all uninvited to me cabin, Tia-my-luv? Surely a goddess has better things t’do wit’ her time than being all social-like wit’ one captain, no matter how charmin,’ handsome and altogether clever a rogue he may be. Savvy?” Jack reached for the flask in one of the many pockets of his tattered greatcoat. He swallowed, feeling the burn of the rum with something approaching amusement. Could one get properly drunk on dream rum? Jack intended to find out.
Dark fingers suddenly plucked the flask from his fingers. Jack looked up into Calypso’s fathomless eyes, full of things no mortal should see. He shuddered as she took a healthy swig from the neck of his flask. “Dis one has no concern wit’ what you do or not do, canny Jack, save as it affects me an’ mine.” She drank again and handed the flask back to him and Jack was dismayed to feel the lack of weight. She had drained the bloody thing dry!
“Then wot brings ye all unasked for to drink me rum?” Jack scowled at the goddess given human shape standing in his cabin. Did she have to drink all the bloody rum?
“Be watchin’ dat too clever tongue, canny Jack, for I’m minded t’member why I tried to kill you once afore.”
Jack found his fingers involuntarily tracing a thin white scar on his throat. Swallowing and covering the motion with a scowl, he glared at his unwelcome visitor. “So wot brings ye t’disturb me slumber?”
Tia settled on the edge of his bunk and Jack shied away like a spooked horse. Strong fingers closed around his wrist before he could escape. “You not so clever dis time, Jack, o’dat you can be sure. What a goddess binds stays bound for all o’time. An’ dis time I bind you.” Jack felt the little bit of rum he’d swallowed trying to make an encore appearance as her eyes shifted, shading through all the colors of the sea in rapid succession. “Walk de shore only a day, never t’rest while land beneath you heels. Longer you linger, sicker you are. Till gem an’ bird t’gether sealed, you may go, but never far.” Clever fingers knotted the thin strand they had plaited around his wrist and Calypso smiled a shark’s grin. “Like me ferryman, you dare not t’go too far from you heart, canny Jack. Member dat! Ol’ Tia’s got her uses for you and she not like t’lose what’s hers again. She lost once, never again, canny Jack. You belong on de water, at de helm of you Pearl.”
Jack came awake, cursing fit to set the air afire. Damn it, was he never to get a bit of uninterrupted slumber? First his unwelcome ghost, she of sad eyes and sadder smiles and now Calypso herself deciding to take nocturnal strolls through his dreams.
Jack found his flask still in his pocket and dug it out, weighing it thoughtfully. Still full as it had been when he’d stowed it there. He’d chase dream rum and dream visitors away with real rum. As he lifted the flask to take a healthy draught, he felt his blood freeze in his veins. Around his wrist was a thin plait of dark hair. Shaking, he tipped his flask… and spluttered. His flask was full of seawater!
“Why’s the rum always gone?”
On to chapter three.