Dark Lady-Chapter Ten
Title: Dark Lady
Chapter Ten: Gathering the Pieces
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Characters: Jack, The Dark Lady (OFC, sort of, more on this in the note), Gibbs, Will, Anamaria, Norrington, and sundry members of the various crews. Stir well and serve immediately.
Disclaimers: I make no claim on any of this. Disney owns all rights. I just loot and plunder.
Rating: PG-13 to R (this chapter-PG-13)
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: Norrington arrives and Anamaria volunteers.
Back to Chapter Nine.
*------------------------------*
In some rational part of Jack’s mind, one long since subsumed and drowned in liberal applications of rum, rum and more rum, he was alarmed at how quickly he had gotten used to falling asleep in the arms of his Pearl given flesh…and waking to find her gone. It was not that part of his mind that stirred him in the dark hours of the morning, aware that her warm weight was gone. It was the part he euphemistically called his ‘weather eye,’ the same sense that kept him aware of storms and whether or not the sails the crow spotted were prey, enemy or another pirate to keep a wary eye on.
He opened his eyes to darkness and a hushed conversation that might just as well have been the slap of waves on the hull for all he could hear of it. The voices, he knew, though. The first, speaking in an agitated tone, was his very own Pearl given form. There was a swirl of cold laughter that tasted of the deeps and a reply in an unsettlingly familiar patois. “… you price?” It lilted just enough for him to catch the last words.
Pearl’s reply was a hushed sigh of words he could not understand.
“Who you t’ink you dealing wit,’ little one, t’quote me terms? I made you and I can unmake you easily as dis!”
Jack jumped as Pearl’s voice rose in an unmistakable cry of anguish. He flailed to free himself of the blankets, but could only move as if he were trying to swim through honey. Jack tried to curse but all that came out was a single, inarticulate sound that was lost in Pearl’s shriek of pain.
“No!” Pearl’s voice sounded as if it were being forced through gritted teeth, and she paused to take a whimpering breath. “I will not back down! What will you do, sea-goddess, if your knight is taken out of play?”
Tia’s voice crackled with thunder. “I could take you voice, little ship, an’ return you t’de depths from which me former ferryman raised you.”
“You could.” Jack heard Pearl draw a shuddering breath and her voice was stronger. “But you won’t, because that would lose you Jack. And he has a part to play in this too.”
“You thinkin’ you’s a clever one, den?”
“No. I know the price and I will pay it if it comes to that… But it won’t! Now, will you agree?”
Jack felt as if the very air held its breath. Finally, Tia laughed. Unlike before, it was an amused sound, the cheerful chuckle of waves breaking on rocks. “When I give you dis form, I not know how audacious you be. You a good match for him. I agree t’you terms.”
The world shifted on its axis and Jack sat up with a gasp to see the lightening of the sky that presaged dawn. He felt Pearl’s breath on his cheek though he could not see her in the half-light. “Wake, my captain. The lady Calypso has returned, and she brought company.”
Jack surged up out of the bunk just as the man in the nest shouted alarm. He turned to see the cabin was empty of any save himself.
Cursing, he struggled into his breeches and hurried out of his cabin, still pulling on a shirt. His voice failed him at the familiar shape that was nearly beside the Pearl, still shedding water from sleek flanks. The golden wood and fine brass fittings showed no signs of the fate they had suffered. There was a crew aboard, and some of those faces he knew. Like the man at the helm, still clad in a Royal Navy uniform, they were one and all, former dead men.
Jack cursed silently as Gibbs spit over the rail and made signs against evil as James Norrington brought the Interceptor smoothly alongside Pearl’s larboard side. A sleek figure in tattered finery stood at his side for a moment before offering Jack a shark’s grin and dissolving into a wash of water sluicing off the deck.
Jack found his voice at last. “Ho, the Interceptor!” He was pleased to hear that his voice did not crack or waver at all. It seemed that his past was coming back to haunt him in more ways that one.
Norrington’s voice held a note of wry amusement as he returned Jack’s greeting. “Ho yourself, Sparrow. I take it you have found yourself wrapped up in yet more trouble?” He said drolly.
Jack scowled. He found himself suddenly remembering how annoying he had found Elizabeth’s one-time swain. “No more than ye, commodore. Or were it admiral afore ye were killed?”
Norrington’s face froze in a bitter scowl for a long moment. “Those titles are no longer mine. I am simply Captain Norrington now.”
Jack snorted. “Ye’re not gonna set yerself up as admiral of her soggy soddenness’s motley fleet, then?”
Something that might have been a wry smile tugged at the corner of Norrington’s mouth. “Not if said fleet contains you, Sparrow. There is little in this world… or the next, that could convince me to claim any responsibility for your tattooed hide.”
Surprised laughter bubbled in Jack’s chest. “Ye’ll do, Jamie. Ye’ll do.”
There was an amused twinkle in Norrington’s green eyes. “I’ll do nothing if you persist in calling me that undignified diminutive.”
Gibbs looked at his captain as if he had lost his mind as Jack threw his head back in a roar of laughter.
*------------------------*
A short time later, they were all ensconced in the captain’s cabin of the Dutchman. Anamaria was muttering under her breath as she followed Jack. He couldn’t tell whether it was curses or prayers. Judging from the scowl on her face, he wasn’t risking his teeth to find out either.
“You’ve done wonders with the place, Turner. Or did Elizabeth help you?” Norrington’s tone was sardonic, even though his eyes kept returning to the thick scar visible where Will’s scarlet shirt gaped open. Jack had seen his gaze fix on the wedding band on Will’s hand. Jack had been the one to bring it to him, part of a matching set Elizabeth had bought. She wore the other.
Will snorted laughter. “Jack asked me the same question. Did you two plan that?”
“No!” “Not likely!” Jack and Norrington both sputtered at the same time, which sent Will off in another gale of laughter.
“You two are more alike than you’ll ever admit.”
“They’re both crazy in the head.” Anamaria muttered succinctly as both men loudly protested the accusation.
Will waved them all to the table and produced another bottle of his dark rum. “I don’t have much more information than the rest of you. Lady Calypso hasn’t bothered to share her plans with me. I know Barbossa should be here within the day. I don’t know if she’s dragooned anyone else into this. Anamaria, you have no part in this, so if you wish to take the Lao Fei and head for the nearest horizon, none of us will stop you.”
Anamaria regarded her rum with thoughtful eyes. “If this has a goddess of the sea troubled, I think there is nowhere else I should be. I stood against the East India Company at Shipwreck Cove aboard the Spanish Bride. I’ll not back down from this.”
Will looked at her calmly. “This is likely to be dangerous, Anamaria.”
She snorted. “And that wasn’t? At least I know you’ll be nearby if I die. I’d sooner crew under than you than Jones. Would you need a helmsman?”
Jack laughed as Will grinned at her audacity. “I’ll send over a couple of crewmen to help you get the Lao Fei back in fighting trim. They can do wonders.”
Jack’s memory wandered back in time and he nodded. “That they can, luv. Take me word fer it.”
Anamaria cast him a suspicious glance but nodded politely to Will. “I’d appreciate the help, Turner.”
Will nodded and summoned Bootstrap to the cabin. “Take Palifico, Morey and Wheelback and see what can be done for the Lao Fei to get her back in good shape.”
Bootstrap grinned at his son. “Aye, sir.” He nodded at the others. “Captains.”
Jack waved after him and returned his attention to the others. “Now, I might have some information on wot’s happenin’ but I don’t know wot it means. Does the name “Dragon of the Deep” mean anythin’ t’ye lot?”
“Where did you hear that name?” Anamaria turned to face him, dark eyes hard.
“I can’t be revealin’ me sources, luv, but suffice to say it be a trustworthy one.”
“Where, Sparrow?” Her voice was harsh.
“Ana, luv, I can’t rightly say. Wot is it ye know?”
She glared at him before resuming her seat and knocking back the rest of her rum. She took the bottle from Turner and refilled her glass. “My crew’s outta Singapore, mostly. They’re good men, though they have too much of a penchant for trying to frighten poor Shang Ti, my stowaway-come-cabin boy,” She explained. “With old stories and legends. One of the favorites is tales of the monster called the nameless one, or the Dragon of the Deep.” She shook her head. “They could tell you more but from what I’ve heard, he was a Dragon of the Heavens, a creature they claim controlled storms and wind. But he fell from grace, his heart full of greed and bitterness. They tell many stories of the carnage and destruction he caused before he was captured, stripped of his name and bound into sleep deep beneath the seas, where he could do no harm save for the occasional hurricane.
“Hurricanes, y’see, are the storms of his rage. When he dreams and stirs in his enchanted slumber, it brews a hurricane…”
As one, they all looked out the window at the tempest that raged just beyond their sphere of protection.
Chapter Ten: Gathering the Pieces
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Characters: Jack, The Dark Lady (OFC, sort of, more on this in the note), Gibbs, Will, Anamaria, Norrington, and sundry members of the various crews. Stir well and serve immediately.
Disclaimers: I make no claim on any of this. Disney owns all rights. I just loot and plunder.
Rating: PG-13 to R (this chapter-PG-13)
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: Norrington arrives and Anamaria volunteers.
Back to Chapter Nine.
*------------------------------*
In some rational part of Jack’s mind, one long since subsumed and drowned in liberal applications of rum, rum and more rum, he was alarmed at how quickly he had gotten used to falling asleep in the arms of his Pearl given flesh…and waking to find her gone. It was not that part of his mind that stirred him in the dark hours of the morning, aware that her warm weight was gone. It was the part he euphemistically called his ‘weather eye,’ the same sense that kept him aware of storms and whether or not the sails the crow spotted were prey, enemy or another pirate to keep a wary eye on.
He opened his eyes to darkness and a hushed conversation that might just as well have been the slap of waves on the hull for all he could hear of it. The voices, he knew, though. The first, speaking in an agitated tone, was his very own Pearl given form. There was a swirl of cold laughter that tasted of the deeps and a reply in an unsettlingly familiar patois. “… you price?” It lilted just enough for him to catch the last words.
Pearl’s reply was a hushed sigh of words he could not understand.
“Who you t’ink you dealing wit,’ little one, t’quote me terms? I made you and I can unmake you easily as dis!”
Jack jumped as Pearl’s voice rose in an unmistakable cry of anguish. He flailed to free himself of the blankets, but could only move as if he were trying to swim through honey. Jack tried to curse but all that came out was a single, inarticulate sound that was lost in Pearl’s shriek of pain.
“No!” Pearl’s voice sounded as if it were being forced through gritted teeth, and she paused to take a whimpering breath. “I will not back down! What will you do, sea-goddess, if your knight is taken out of play?”
Tia’s voice crackled with thunder. “I could take you voice, little ship, an’ return you t’de depths from which me former ferryman raised you.”
“You could.” Jack heard Pearl draw a shuddering breath and her voice was stronger. “But you won’t, because that would lose you Jack. And he has a part to play in this too.”
“You thinkin’ you’s a clever one, den?”
“No. I know the price and I will pay it if it comes to that… But it won’t! Now, will you agree?”
Jack felt as if the very air held its breath. Finally, Tia laughed. Unlike before, it was an amused sound, the cheerful chuckle of waves breaking on rocks. “When I give you dis form, I not know how audacious you be. You a good match for him. I agree t’you terms.”
The world shifted on its axis and Jack sat up with a gasp to see the lightening of the sky that presaged dawn. He felt Pearl’s breath on his cheek though he could not see her in the half-light. “Wake, my captain. The lady Calypso has returned, and she brought company.”
Jack surged up out of the bunk just as the man in the nest shouted alarm. He turned to see the cabin was empty of any save himself.
Cursing, he struggled into his breeches and hurried out of his cabin, still pulling on a shirt. His voice failed him at the familiar shape that was nearly beside the Pearl, still shedding water from sleek flanks. The golden wood and fine brass fittings showed no signs of the fate they had suffered. There was a crew aboard, and some of those faces he knew. Like the man at the helm, still clad in a Royal Navy uniform, they were one and all, former dead men.
Jack cursed silently as Gibbs spit over the rail and made signs against evil as James Norrington brought the Interceptor smoothly alongside Pearl’s larboard side. A sleek figure in tattered finery stood at his side for a moment before offering Jack a shark’s grin and dissolving into a wash of water sluicing off the deck.
Jack found his voice at last. “Ho, the Interceptor!” He was pleased to hear that his voice did not crack or waver at all. It seemed that his past was coming back to haunt him in more ways that one.
Norrington’s voice held a note of wry amusement as he returned Jack’s greeting. “Ho yourself, Sparrow. I take it you have found yourself wrapped up in yet more trouble?” He said drolly.
Jack scowled. He found himself suddenly remembering how annoying he had found Elizabeth’s one-time swain. “No more than ye, commodore. Or were it admiral afore ye were killed?”
Norrington’s face froze in a bitter scowl for a long moment. “Those titles are no longer mine. I am simply Captain Norrington now.”
Jack snorted. “Ye’re not gonna set yerself up as admiral of her soggy soddenness’s motley fleet, then?”
Something that might have been a wry smile tugged at the corner of Norrington’s mouth. “Not if said fleet contains you, Sparrow. There is little in this world… or the next, that could convince me to claim any responsibility for your tattooed hide.”
Surprised laughter bubbled in Jack’s chest. “Ye’ll do, Jamie. Ye’ll do.”
There was an amused twinkle in Norrington’s green eyes. “I’ll do nothing if you persist in calling me that undignified diminutive.”
Gibbs looked at his captain as if he had lost his mind as Jack threw his head back in a roar of laughter.
*------------------------*
A short time later, they were all ensconced in the captain’s cabin of the Dutchman. Anamaria was muttering under her breath as she followed Jack. He couldn’t tell whether it was curses or prayers. Judging from the scowl on her face, he wasn’t risking his teeth to find out either.
“You’ve done wonders with the place, Turner. Or did Elizabeth help you?” Norrington’s tone was sardonic, even though his eyes kept returning to the thick scar visible where Will’s scarlet shirt gaped open. Jack had seen his gaze fix on the wedding band on Will’s hand. Jack had been the one to bring it to him, part of a matching set Elizabeth had bought. She wore the other.
Will snorted laughter. “Jack asked me the same question. Did you two plan that?”
“No!” “Not likely!” Jack and Norrington both sputtered at the same time, which sent Will off in another gale of laughter.
“You two are more alike than you’ll ever admit.”
“They’re both crazy in the head.” Anamaria muttered succinctly as both men loudly protested the accusation.
Will waved them all to the table and produced another bottle of his dark rum. “I don’t have much more information than the rest of you. Lady Calypso hasn’t bothered to share her plans with me. I know Barbossa should be here within the day. I don’t know if she’s dragooned anyone else into this. Anamaria, you have no part in this, so if you wish to take the Lao Fei and head for the nearest horizon, none of us will stop you.”
Anamaria regarded her rum with thoughtful eyes. “If this has a goddess of the sea troubled, I think there is nowhere else I should be. I stood against the East India Company at Shipwreck Cove aboard the Spanish Bride. I’ll not back down from this.”
Will looked at her calmly. “This is likely to be dangerous, Anamaria.”
She snorted. “And that wasn’t? At least I know you’ll be nearby if I die. I’d sooner crew under than you than Jones. Would you need a helmsman?”
Jack laughed as Will grinned at her audacity. “I’ll send over a couple of crewmen to help you get the Lao Fei back in fighting trim. They can do wonders.”
Jack’s memory wandered back in time and he nodded. “That they can, luv. Take me word fer it.”
Anamaria cast him a suspicious glance but nodded politely to Will. “I’d appreciate the help, Turner.”
Will nodded and summoned Bootstrap to the cabin. “Take Palifico, Morey and Wheelback and see what can be done for the Lao Fei to get her back in good shape.”
Bootstrap grinned at his son. “Aye, sir.” He nodded at the others. “Captains.”
Jack waved after him and returned his attention to the others. “Now, I might have some information on wot’s happenin’ but I don’t know wot it means. Does the name “Dragon of the Deep” mean anythin’ t’ye lot?”
“Where did you hear that name?” Anamaria turned to face him, dark eyes hard.
“I can’t be revealin’ me sources, luv, but suffice to say it be a trustworthy one.”
“Where, Sparrow?” Her voice was harsh.
“Ana, luv, I can’t rightly say. Wot is it ye know?”
She glared at him before resuming her seat and knocking back the rest of her rum. She took the bottle from Turner and refilled her glass. “My crew’s outta Singapore, mostly. They’re good men, though they have too much of a penchant for trying to frighten poor Shang Ti, my stowaway-come-cabin boy,” She explained. “With old stories and legends. One of the favorites is tales of the monster called the nameless one, or the Dragon of the Deep.” She shook her head. “They could tell you more but from what I’ve heard, he was a Dragon of the Heavens, a creature they claim controlled storms and wind. But he fell from grace, his heart full of greed and bitterness. They tell many stories of the carnage and destruction he caused before he was captured, stripped of his name and bound into sleep deep beneath the seas, where he could do no harm save for the occasional hurricane.
“Hurricanes, y’see, are the storms of his rage. When he dreams and stirs in his enchanted slumber, it brews a hurricane…”
As one, they all looked out the window at the tempest that raged just beyond their sphere of protection.