Here's to Freedom-- Part 1 (Chapters 1-9)
So, I started writing this Pirates of the Caribbean story in December of 2003, and it's still not done yet. There are approximately a billion chapters, all originally posted to fanfiction.net, but I'm going to be editing and hopefully improving all that's been posted there in the coming weeks, months, whatever. It's mainly Jack/OC, but there are plenty of appearances made by the usual suspects (Will, Elizabeth, Norrington, etc). It hits about a PG-13 rating, and with that warning, I give you Part 1:
RECENTLY UPDATED
Here's To Freedom
"Oh, Natalie, darling! You look absolutely stunning!" Elizabeth Swann said, patting her little sister's auburn curls and stepping back to admire the work of her abagails. "Thank you, ladies. That will be all."
Natalie Swann watched as the two girls left, waiting in silent dread for her sister's incessant babbling to start up again. Without distractions, the woman of twenty had the ability to go on and on for whole hours without breaking a sweat. It never ceased to amaze, really.
As the door clicked closed, Elizabeth, as expected, continued. "Well, who would have known that all of this loveliness was hiding beneath that rakish exterior of yours? Why young Clark Eaton just might fall through the floor at the sight of you, Nattie!"
At the mere mention of his name, Natalie rolled her eyes skyward in a silent prayer for mercy. The man was completely vexing, always hanging about, spouting flowery words about her timeless beauty and its devestating effect on his poor heart, words she knew to be empty and devoid of any real meaning.
If Clark had truly had his way, he would be in William Turner's shoes beside her sister, but there was no way that oaf could compete with an honorable man like Will. He was charismatic and proper, heroic and dashing. Damn near perfect, in her opinion. And, of course, he was completely smitten with Elizabeth. Wasn't it always the way?
"Natalie? Natalie!" Her sister's raised voice brought her from her thoughts with a jolt, and, for a moment, she shook her head to regain her senses. "We really must be going or we will certainly be late for Master Eaton's soirée, and think of how dreadful it will look, the governor's family arriving in the middle of the main course!"
With an exasperated sigh, Natalie shook her head and picked up her satin fan, moving to the door behind Elizabeth with a mocking whisper, "Yes, dreadful, indeed."
* * * *
"Clark!" Geoffrey Eaton called, the marble-faced grandeur of the grand hall magnifying the impatience in his voice. "Clark Allen Eaton! Show yourself immediately!" He didn't have time for such foolishness this evening. A houseful of guests would be arriving shortly and there was much he had to see to before they did.
He opened his mouth once more, preparing to holler, when he saw his son, liltingly descending the spiral staircase. Shaking his head at the pathetic picture he made, Geoffry reminded himself that it was on the shoulders of this abominable boy to save the Eaton name. The image didn't exactly inspire confidence. "Clark, now!"
"Yes, Father?" he asked, approaching with an unhurried gait. Well one thing he could give the lad credit for was his appearance. Of course, money can buy attire that can miraculously alter even the most horrendous of individuals, but the gentle waves in his blonde hair, his almost translucent blue eyes, and his impeccable bone structure, proved that he'd obviously inherited his father's good looks.
With a harsh whisper, he pulled his son in close and started in quickly. "Now, son, I cannot begin to stress enough how important tonight is to the survival of this family. We are practically in debt, Clark, and unless you relish the thought of taking up a pick axe in place of that pen of yours, you'd better be successful in your ministrations tonight!"
Clark rolled his eyes and replied, "I know, Father. Truthfully, I really can't fathom how this could be difficult at all. Who else in their right mind has ever approached the prickly Natalie Swann with romantic intent? Even if she isn't moved by my proposal, her father wouldn't want to bring shame on the family by toting around an old maid, so she'll have to say 'yes'!"
"Clark, do not underestimate that one! She's lovely, to be sure, but she is certainly no fool, so you'd better hope you are as charming as you seem to think."
With a cocky chuckle, he pulled away from his father's grasp and leaned nonchalantly against a table full of potted hydrangeas. "Father, you're forgetting, I'm a poet! One heart-wrenching sonnet from me, and she won't be able to resist!"
* * * *
Natalie couldn't help the audible sigh of relief that escaped her lungs as the carriage slowed to a stop in front of the Eaton house, after the considerable trek from the north side of the island. Truth be told, being tossed about like a rag doll in that horse-dragged box had made her more than a little queasy. Governor Swann shot his daughter a scathing look at her vocal protest and climbed down, extending his hand to help her out.
Sliding her hand into his, Natalie stepped out into the warm, sweet-smelling Caribbean night, savoring the feeling of standing still and just being alive. The pale moonlight bathed all that surrounded her in this ethereal glow, casting magnificent shadows of the swaying banana palms and moss covered rock formations on the cobbles beneath her feet. Smiling to herself, she silently wondered if there was any other place on Earth more beautiful than Port Royale in that instant.
"Excuse me, Miss Natalie," she heard from behind her. Tossing a glance over her right shoulder, she saw Will send her a grin, waiting patiently behind her to exit the surrey.
Her emerald eyes widened and her face flushed pink with embarrassment. Of all people to see her slip into bumbling incoherency, it had to be Will, her awful luck wouldn't permit otherwise! Finally realizing that even after he was kind enough to point out her mistake, she still had yet to move, Natalie darted out of the way. "Please forgive me. I lost myself for a moment."
Will simply hopped down onto the stone path, and brushing a wisp of dark wavy hair out of his eyes, he presented her with his devastatingly handsome smile, calling, "Think nothing of it, Miss Natalie."
She nearly sighed out loud, that was until he helped Elizabeth along, their eyes locked on one another, and no one else. Dear Lord, it was enough to make any girl feel like taking a leap from the nearest cliff!
"Natalie, darling!"
As if watching her beautiful older sister walk away with the man of the century wasn't enough! Her eyes instantly narrowed at the sound of his voice, booming across the once peaceful courtyard. She didn't even have to look upon him to know who it was, for only one person would be lurking in the darkness, anticipating her arrival.
Feigning utter delight, she spun to face him with a brilliant smile and replied, "Why, hello, Master Eaton! It is a pleasure to see you again."
He grinned like a fool and all but leapt over to where Natalie stood. Bowing down before her, he made an enormous fuss out of caressing her hand and placing a kiss atop it, so much so that she had to struggle to stifle the bout of hysterical laughter that threatened to consume her with each ridiculous gesture the man made.
"No, my dear, the pleasure is all mine," Clark whispered suggestively, raising his clear blue eyes to hers. Everything about him told her he wasn't being genuine, but casting a sidelong-glance at a suddenly interested Will and Elizabeth, she pretended not to mind it in the slightest. "I thank you and your family for accepting our invitation."
Turning to address her father, he bowed once more, sans hand-fondling, and said, "Governor Swann, we are honored and delighted to have you as a guest in our home."
"Why thank you, son," he said cheerfully. Offering his elbow to his youngest daughter, the governor smiled and inclined his head towards the massive estate that loomed nearby. "Shall we?"
Natalie bushed past Clark to her where her father was waiting, with a smile. As was typical of the man, he probably didn't realize what he'd just done, but he was indeed her salvation. "Why, I thought you would never ask!"
* * * *
Like most parties and balls given by the wealthy of Port Royale, the Eatons' was a magnificent affair, dripping with decadence.
The Grand Hall was bustling with hundreds of the host's closest friends, its walls were practically dripping with rich fabrics, precious metals, and more superfluous swag. Exotic foods prepared by the finest chefs, no doubt imported from Europe, coated tables that lined the entire perimeter of the room. In the center, the magnificent spiral staircase gave way to a platform that housed a string quartet, playing waltzes and quadrilles for the dancers swirling gracefully across the floor, two by two.
All in all, the sensory overload was simply too immense to escape.
As was young Clark Eaton. Why, Natalie had been sneaking from one potted palm to another for hours, trying to remain unseen by the whelp, and frankly, the effort was putting an even larger damper on her already horrendous evening.
She suddenly spotted him across the room, strolling towards her. With a gasp, Natalie quickly bounded behind Madame Blake's enormously tasteless dress and gaggle of eligible teenage daughters to hide. Hardly daring to take a breath for fear of discovery, Natalie waited in absolute silence, finally managing a smile when complete bewilderment crossed Clark's features and he turned to walk away.
But not a moment later, a gentle tap on her bare shoulder caused her to jump a mile out of her skin and set her heart to pounding. When Natalie whirled about and saw who it was, the problem only worsened. "Well, hello there, Master Turner! You're having an enjoyable evening, I pray?"
"A lovely time indeed, and what of you?" he asked. It was all Natalie could do to nod and smile, and, marking this as her answer, he forged on with the conversation. "While I'm pleased to hear this, Miss Swann, I've noticed that you have been hiding along the wall here for some time now. Would you care to dance with me?" he asked, making a formal bow and offering his hand.
Natalie looked at him, wondering if he had gone daft. She needn't think twice about the matter! "Why thank you, I would be delighted!" she replied with a smile. Placing her hand in his, she followed him to the floor, the whole time coaching her body to resist the urge to swoon.
The quartet had been playing a lively number, and immediately, Will swept her into a series of twirls and spins, taking her breath away while she laughed and laughed. The world around them faded into a blur until all she could see was his smiling face and all she ever wanted to feel, from that moment until the end of time, was William Turner in her arms.
"Pardon me, good sir, but might I cut in?"
The words infiltrated her subconscious, dragging her, kicking and screaming, from her own little dream world, back to reality. The man couldn't be for real, it just wasn't possible! Clark had always possessed a certain knack for finding her at the least oppertune moments, but this was too much! It suddenly became clear to Natalie that a stern talking-to for her guardian angel was in order!
Will nodded, placed a polite kiss upon her hand, and thanked her for the dance before walking away to rejoin Elizabeth. With yet another sigh, she turned her attention to the oaf who stood before her, holding his arms out expectantly. "Actually, Master Eaton--."
"Please, do call me Clark, darling."
"Very well," she corrected, with an exasperated sigh, "Master Clark, I could use a breath of fresh air, for it is dreadfully warm in here. So, if you would excuse me, I will take my leave."
As Natalie turned to walk away, her tormentor boldly grabbed hold of her hand. Fighting the desperate urge to pummel the man, she spun around to find him looking upon her with that self-assured grin of his. "Please, allow me to accompany you, my pet."
Gritting her teeth against a violent outburst, she nodded sharply and hurried through the crowd, dragging him behind her. Natalie had dealt with him peacably for the last two years of her life, but if he used one more endearment in reference to her, she couldn't promise that she wouldn't end his life, right then and there.
Once free of the hall and its heaving mass of people, she wriggled free of Clark's grip and moved across the stone patio. Leaning her forearms on the short wall at its perimeter, she looked out over the sea, now enveloped in complete darkness, and took deep breaths in an attempt to regain her composure.
Hearing his shoes clicking against the smooth cobbles as he moved towards her, she rolled her eyes and prepared herself for the worst. "My, my, the island is certainly beautiful tonight," he said softly, the genuine awe in his words shocking her, to say the least.
"That it is," she replied, trying to enjoy his change in attitude for she knew not how long it would be present.
Not a moment after, he confirmed her belief that people never really changed. "The air is calm, the night is shady. I ask you, Natalie, be my lady!" Clark recited, reading from a small scrap of parchment that he had taken from his jacket pocket.
Quickly, he scrambled to his knees, remembering that it was customary when proposing marriage, and pulled out a golden ring with a large diamond set in the middle. Her eyes widened as a combination of his awful rhyming skills, the size of the bauble, and the sheer idiocy of the man to ask for her hand slammed into her all at once. Opening her mouth to inform him of her rejection, she was cut off by a piercing shriek.
"Oh, Natalie!" Elizabeth cried, hurrying over with Will and their father in tow, "This is such wonderful news! We must inform everyone immediately!" She would have run off and told the entire free world, had her husband not held her back.
With a supportive smile, Will intertwined his hand with her sister's and said, "Congratulations, Miss Natalie. I'm sure you two will be very happy together."
"But...I--," she stammered, unable to believe what was happening. It was as though she was simply watching the event unfold before her very eyes and she could do nothing to stop it.
It was then that her eyes fell upon her father.
He said nothing, but his expression spoke volumes. The bemused smile on his face as he gazed upon his youngest daughter, looking beautiful and poised in her new evening finery and more mature than he had ever noticed before melted any objection she had been preparing to voice.
Unable to kill the pride reflected in his countenance, she stood there in silence as Clark slipped the ring on her finger, rose, and placed a kiss on her cheek, her eyes never breaking contact with her father's. Natalie couldn't bear to embarrass or disappoint him, so she decided to do the only thing she could do in the situation: run away.
* * * *
In all of the chaos that erupted at the announcement of her betrothal to Clark Eaton, Natalie managed to slip out undetected. Casting one final glance back at her beaming father, who was standing at the center of a huge crowd of well-wishers, she smiled, blinking back tears, before running down the path that led her to freedom.
* * * *
"Thar she be, gents!" one man said in a harsh whisper as they crept closer and closer to the well-lit estate that stood grandly on the hill before them. As their boot-clad feet hit the cobble stone path leading up to it, not another word was spoken, with every man focused intently upon the job that lay ahead.
Silently, they made their way to the Eaton family home, pausing just outside the front entrance to rehash the plan one more time. Casey Shaw, the captain's weathered, but sharp, first mate, gathered the men in a huddle, softly saying, "Remember, lads, this is a recovery mission. We threaten everything and do nothing. Unless, of course, you are threatened yourself, in which case you may do everything and refrain from doing nothing. Is that understood?"
The crew simply sat there in utter bewilderment, with the man's rather perplexing instructions echoing in their heads, but not registering. Raising eyebrows and whispering to one another, the men tried to find someone who understood the cryptic command. Finally, one of the sailors asked, "Huh?"
The man of twenty was greeted with fifty fists, belonging to fifty angry men, aimed at his face for breaking their cover of silence. Fed up, Casey growled low and mean, "Get on with yeh', you scalawags!"
With a hearty roar, the men all dashed for the foyer, kicking down the doors with swords drawn and pistols aimed. While they weren't expecting a crowd of two hundred to be waiting on the other side, they still delighted in the fearful expressions and piercing screams that burst forth upon their appearance.
"On yer feet, nobody moves!" cried Casey, wildly brandishing his dagger over his head for all to see, "Now, where be Master Geoffrey Eaton? Step forward!"
One by one, the crowd slowly parted, all turning back to look at the man the pirate had called for, searching his expressionless face for a hint as to why this was happening. Slowly, he advanced through the trough of guests until he was toe to toe with the tall lanky buccaneer who had called his name.
In a whisper, Geoffrey replied simply, his voice shaking slightly, "I don't have it now, but I will get it for you. Please, just don't do this."
"I believe it's a little late fer you to be makin' requests, Eaton!" he said. Turning to the rest of the men, Casey cried, "'Sack it, boys!"
Immediately, the screams of petrified guests could be heard while all stood there, completely helpless and without weapons, since most parties didn't involve pirate raids, wondering if this moment would be their last. The surly men kept away from the crowd who were huddled close in the center of the room, running to the walls instead where most of the valuable items were displayed.
Watching as the men snatched up everything that wasn't nailed down, and even some things that were, Will furrowed his brow in confusion. There was the grand gala, the unexpected engagement, and the finale of felons...why, it was all too strange for them to not be related. Something was amiss, and he knew it. Now all he had to do was deduce what that thing was, exactly.
Pushing his way towards the outer ring of party-goers, he called out to one of the rogues. In response, the man turned his person, and his pistol, upon Will with a scowl. "Were you not payin' mind when Mister Shaw, there, told you to keep quiet!?"
"My mistake," he replied. Withdrawing three shillings from his waistcoat pocket, he held them out to the man with a question. "If you would be so kind as to tell me, good sir, who your captain might be, I'll be as silent as a church mouse, henceforth."
Eyeing the coins suspiciously, he quickly snatched them from Will's hand as he shouted, "Me cap'in juss so happens to be the most feared pirate in all the seven seas!" At his words, the men took time from their looting and cheered wildly, "Jack Sparrah!"
* * * *
Natalie looked up from the foyer to the house where she had lived for most of her life, one last time. Gazing intently, she struggled to record every small detail of it; the teake banister, scuffed with time and use, the soft light emanating from the candelabras that lined the walls, the scent of the sweet, tropical foliage that seemed to envelop each room with the most magnificent fragrance.
With a melancholy sigh, she withdrew a white envelope, sealed with wax that had her father's name scrawled on the front. Inside was a letter assuring him that she was going to be fine and that he should not worry about her, but still offered no explanation as to where or why she had gone. Propping it up against the side board, where someone would be sure to find it, Natalie quickly turned away and left, unable to risk staying there any longer.
Cautiously, she slipped out into the shadows, not wanting to call attention to herself or be recognized by anyone, for that would foil her escape, without question. Her feet moved soundlessly over the dirt path that led to the wharf, her mind in a state of heightened sensation as fear and anticipation took hold of her. Natalie hadn't been to this part of the island since her arrival when she was seven, but she had always been fascinated by it. Nothing compared to the autonomy of a life at sea.
Hiding behind a pile of crates, she surveyed the area. Since she couldn't purchase passage on a ship without being caught by someone and stopped, Natalie had decided that sneaking aboard a vessel was her only choice. If caught, she would simply have to rely on her minimal charms and hope for the best.
Peeking out, she saw two ships making birth at the docks, one was currently being guarded by four burly men, shooting the insects in the dirt to pass the time while the other had an old man, doubled over in a chair, fast asleep with an empty jug in his hand. Using her brilliant intellect, she chose the latter, creeping along the brush that lined the perimeter of the clearing before swiftly moving across the dimly lit dock and up the gangway.
Holding onto the rope handles with a death-grip, she exercised the utmost caution once she reached the top, careful not to ruin her stowaway attempt now that she was so close to succeeding. Taking a deep, controlling breath, she swung herself up onto the main deck, expecting to find maybe one or two men, even the whole damn crew, but certainly not what she happened upon.
Natalie looked around the completely deserted ship in disbelief. She had done it! With an uncontrollable grin, she clapped her hands at her success, but was interrupted by a loud roar.
"Yo Ho! Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me!" sang a large group of sailors, cheering and drinking as they made their way to the very vessel she was standing upon! Desperately trying to remain unnoticed, she leapt behind a pile of nets into a coil of rope which, both by height and width, fit her perfectly. Her heart pounding so loud that she swore it would give away her location, Natalie balled herself up in her hiding place to wait.
* * * *
Captain Jack Sparrow's head shot up at the knock on his cabin door. The combination of the loud rapping and his rapid movement proved to make the rum's effect all the more potent. With a wince, he called out, "Come in!"
No sooner had he slurred the words than his crew burst in, dumping armloads of glittering swag on any and all free surfaces in the small room and shouting about their adventures in pillaging to their captain. The excess noise brought his splitting headache to a new level of agony that he hadn't thought existed prior to experiencing it.
With a hefty growl, he silenced the men. "To the deck, boys! Unless it's a rope you fancy having slung 'round your neck, we'd best be leaving!" Jack hollered, "Now off with you!"
The crew took up another cheer as they filtered out of the captain's quarters to the top deck, leaving him to discuss the evening's events with his first mate. Dropping down into his worn wingback chair, Jack put his feet up on the desk and massaged his temples to alleviate some of the throbbing, to no avail. "So, how did you fare?" he asked with a sigh, raising his eyes to Casey.
"Ol' Eaton didn't have the money, but he did have a house full of guests, so we looted to make up for it. Seein' as most of his guests were filthy rich, the booty'll probably amount to a king's ransom!" he said, the thrill of the plunder still raising the pitch of his voice.
At his close friend's account, Jack sat up, putting his boot-clad feet back on the floor and leaning expectantly over his desk. "What do you mean Eaton didn't have the money? The man rivals the damn governor in funds!"
Casey shrugged and replied, "Jack, I'm juss tellin' you what I know. He said he di'n have it."
Puzzled, he tucked the bit of information aside to come back to later. "Did anything else of particular interest happen?" he asked.
Seriously contemplating his question, the second in command thought back to the night's earlier occurrences. Just when Jack was prepared to ask him to get a good night's sleep over it, Casey jumped up out of the wooden chair he had been sitting in, across from the captain's desk. "Come ta think of it, there was somethin' goin' on. They were all congratulatin' the gov'na and Eaton's boy. Probably a weddin's comin' up," he said with a shrug. "Oh, and some bloke asked me who me cap'in was. We answered him right quick and proudly, but I din't find out why. I pro'lly shoulda, right?"
Toying with the pair of braids hanging from his chin, Jack furrowed his brow in deep thought. An engagement involving the Governor and young Eaton...could it be Elizabeth? No, it couldn't have been because William had been after her. But then who else could be marrying the lad?
Still unsure of all of the details that were swimming through his mind, Jack nodded to his first mate in thanks. "Good work, Mister Shaw. Go keep an eye on the crew. I'll take third watch tomorrow."
"Aye, cap'in. Have a pleasurable evenin'," he said, taking his leave and letting the rough, oak door slam shut on his way out.
Leaning back in his chair once more, he shook his head. "Not bloody well likely!"
* * * *
Will watched through the front window as the last of Jack's men scrambled down the hill by torchlight with Master Eaton's valuables. Through the thin panes of glass, he could hear them bellowing the words to a pirate song that he'd often heard his wife singing. He struggled to suppress a grin at the thought of his old friend, and shook his head as he turned to face the rest of the guests.
"Are they gone?!" asked the governor, his voice rather shrill from fear. After his first major experience with pirates, almost two years prior, when Elizabeth was taken hostage aboard the Black Pearl, he had developed a justifiable aversion to them.
Nodding, he approached the huddled mass at the center of the hall and said, "They've gone. Is everyone alright?" Will's eyes scanned the room before him, but no one appeared to be injured or harmed in any way, as was typical of the captain. He liked to leave survivors to perpetuate the tales of his legendary ferocity.
Taking one final inventory of the people in attendance, he noticed something. "Where is Miss Natalie?"
An audible gasp could be heard from the crowd who all turned to their neighbors to whisper and seek out the missing girl in their midst. Slowly, as they failed to find her, wails and cries rose and filled the cold, marble echo chamber with haunting sound. Someone in the fray raised up an emerald green, satin fan that she had found on the floor...the same fan that Natalie had been seen with earlier.
This seemed to be enough proof for those present, and suddenly, a holler went up, voicing what everyone else had been thinking. "She's been kidnapped! The pirates have the governor's daughter!"
* * * *
Casey watched with a nostalgic smile as some of the new crewmen ran over to the side of the deck to get their first look at the wonder that was Tortuga. To those who'd never before seen it, the island was nothing more than fantastic heresay. It was only after one had arrived that the mere musings of an island devoted entirely to sin became reality!
He remembered his first trip out there, and he doubted that the lady he'd spent it with had forgotten either. Why, yes, that was one hell of a story--
"Mister Shaw," called the captain from the helm, handing the wheel back to Mister Hardy and approaching his first mate. "Drop the port anchor. We'll be here for the day." Convinced of his man's competence, he moved below deck to retrieve the essentials from his cabin.
Nodding sharply, Casey hollered "You 'eard him, men! Drop the port anchor, we're goin' ashore!"
A rousing cheer went up from the crew and they all dashed to their respective stations and went to work, pulling the Cara Mia into the harbor. There were grunts and groans, "heaves" and "ho's" as they yanked on the ropes, but suddenly, a huge commotion started over by the anchor.
Shaking his head and muttering under his breath, something about how many morons it takes to toss a chunk of metal over board, Casey hurried over to see what all the fuss was about. "What is it--," he asked, pausing as he saw precisely what it was. Tipping his head to the side, he quoted his captain in the shock of the discovery. "Well, that's interesting."
* * * *
"Oh, where are you hiding!" shouted Jack, crawling about on the floor and rifling through the many papers that littered its surface in search of something of great importance. "Aha!" Shimmying under his desk, his hand fell upon the desired document. But before he could even relish in his success, there was a frantic knock at the door and then it flew open. Startled, he jumped and slammed his head against the rough wood, emitting a painful yelp shortly afterwards.
Casey looked at the captain, who, at present, had his rear end facing out, wriggling about in an effort to free himself from the desk, and raised an eyebrow. "Cap'in, we found something you might be interested in. That is, if you could spare a moment."
Rolling his eyes, Jack cursed whatever god existed for allowing a member of his crew to see him in such a state. "I'll never live this down," he muttered, slowly backing out of the small enclosure.
Hopping to his feet, he whirled around and his eyes slammed into the mossy green gaze of a stranger...a very female stranger. Furrowing his brow, he silently wondered why she looked so frightened. "Who are you?"
She opened her mouth to respond, but Casey jumped in with his account. "She's a stowaway, cap'in! The men found'er in the extra anchor rope. Almost threw her over board, they did! She won't talk though."
"Well, I wonder why," he responded, his eyes never leaving hers. She really did have remarkable eyes. Shaking his head, he brought himself back to reality. Knowing that he'd get absolutely nowhere with his first mate interjecting at every chance he was given, he dismissed the man. "Mister Shaw, I think I'll just carry on from here."
The man looked puzzled. "Are ye sure, sir?"
Nodding prolifically, he sighed, feigning boredom, and added, "Interrogation can be awful tedious, but it's one of many chores that comes with the title of Captain, I fear. If you would, take the men ashore. I'll join you when we're through here."
"If ye be insistin' Cap'in." Turning to leave, the man called back, "Juss beware, women are a frightfully persuasive lot, they are."
"Yes, yes, of course. Thank you, Shaw. I'll keep that in mind." Jack said, slowly closing the door as the man exited at the pace of a snail. As the final thud of the oak resonated in the quiet room, he turned back to his guest. "My apologies, love. He means well."
Crossing the room, he motioned for her to take a seat across from his desk, but she declined. "Actually, sir, I would really like to explain my presence on your vessel here, if you'd allow me to."
Raising an eyebrow, he paused half-way through, attempting to sit down in his chair to say, "Well, someone's just rearing to go... How 'bout you tell me your name instead, love?"
"My name is Miss Natalie Swann of Port Roy--."
"It can't be," he said, plopping down in the stiff chair with his dark eyes wide and full of questions. Leaning across the desk, Jack let out a humorless laugh and asked, "You aren't related to a Miss Elizabeth Swann, are you?"
He watched, in complete fascination of his luck, as she let out an exasperated sigh and responded, "Yes, Captain. She is my elder sister, why do you ask?"
His mouth dropped open in shock. "Since when is there more than one Miss Swann?"
"Since I was born!" she exclaimed, "Although everyone has been so inclined to ignore my existence since her 'oh so horrific' brush with pirates." With a sigh, she shook her head, discouraged that she was just as invisible outside of Port Royal as she was in it.
"Miss Swann," he said, leaning further over his desk and lowering his voice to a mere whisper, "I am Captain Jack Sparrow." In silence, he waited, no hoped, for the information to register in her mind. It would be nice to be feared, or even revered, for once.
The second those words escaped his lips, it was Natalie's turn to collapse into the nearest chair with an expression resembling that of a gutted fish. Stumbling over her words, she choked out, "Jack Sparrow!" She looked around her, and added in a hushed tone, "Then THIS is the Black Pearl? I don't mean to be rude, but I had imagined it to be a bit more terrible than this!"
With a sneer he muttered, "Yes, well, everyone's a critic." Rising from his chair, he paced across the cabin to the rear wall of small square windows and looked out at the bustling town below. "And, in answer to your question, no, this is NOT the Pearl."
Briefly returning his eyes to hers, he crossed back to the door and elaborated upon his answer. "I had promised a ship to a member of my crew, and regrettably, the one I had planned to give her was retaken by the Royal Navy. She didn't seem to care about the circumstances, and, in turn, I lost my ship. You are now aboard the Cara Mia, one of my...erm... Italian conquests," he added, with a mischievous grin.
Natalie then stood up and turned to face him, her emerald eyes boring straight into his, as if she was trying to read his thoughts, which unsettled him a bit. "So, Captain, what are you going to do about me?" She bowed her head slightly, expecting a death sentence or something dreadful like that.
"Well, not for lack of trying, we never exactly touched upon why you are on my ship," he said, crossing his arms across his chest, trying his best to look formidable so as not to discredit any of the rumors she may have heard. "So, why are you here, Miss Swann?"
Sighing, she leaned upon the back of the wooden chair in front of her and began her tale. "Last evening, I was attending a party given by a Master Geoffrey Eaton." Tugging at her deep green frock, she added, "Hence my rather uncomfortable attire. Anyhow, his idiot of a son, for one reason or another, proposed marriage to me and before I could decline, the entire island had heard. I couldn't bear to break my father's heart, so I left a note explaining my absence at home, and stowed away on your ship."
The captain simply stood there, his kohl rimmed eyes wide and his mouth gaping in complete shock. Eaton, the debt, the engagement, it was all too uncanny to be real! "This is unbelievable," he said, shaking his head.
"What is it, Captain?" Natalie asked, her voice rising in fear of what he would do to her. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she wondered if she'd be swallowed whole or ripped to shreds by sharks if he made her walk the plank.
"Do you even realize..." he paused, a hand flying to his head in the utter insanity of their situation. Regaining his composure, he attempted his explanation once more. "My crew pillaged Geoffrey Eaton's house last night to reclaim a debt that was owed."
Furrowing his brow, in deep concentration, he pieced together the information he had acquired. "He must have known we would come for the money eventually, money he didn't have. Not that you aren't charming, love," he gave her a long, appreciative stare before continuing, "Believe me, you are. But the man was probably just looking after your father's funds, not your heart."
Moving to her side, he casually slung an arm about her shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "But do not despair, darling, you'll find someone," Jack paused and whispered the last naughty bit in her ear, "Eventually."
Brushing his hand from her shoulder and shooting him a withering stare, Natalie replied calmly, "Well, if what you say is true, I am relieved that Master Eaton does not feel anything for me." Clearing her throat, she struggled past the emotion that had suddenly surfaced at the confirmation that no one, not even Clark, cared for her. "But even though I am presently unable to marry him, my father is still vulnerable to their trickery."
"Maybe. The fact remains that you are, indeed, stranded here on the Cara Mia, unless I decide to..." he narrowed his eyes, for effect, and then forged on with his statement, "Dispose of you, of course."
She immediately turned to face him, grabbing hold of the flimsy, cream colored material of his shirt and raising her eyes to his, which had all the impact of a boot-clad kick to the gut. "Please, sir, you mustn't! I promise to earn my keep if you allow me to stay on here. I'll learn the ways of the sea and I'll be just another one of the crew!"
Leaning in closer, he whispered, "Ah, but the fact remains, love, that you aren't just another one of the crew." Pulling away from her grasp once more, Jack motioned to her and added, "How do you expect to work on a ship looking like that?"
"I--I--I'll find a way, Captain. Please?"
Contorting his rather becoming face in deep thought, he nodded, "I'll consider it. I must go ashore to join me crew, you will stay right here. DO NOT MOVE!" With a sigh, he moved towards the door. "Some of your friends seemed to have extreme difficulty with that rule, in particular."
Smiling, she waited until the door clicked closed before moving towards the window. Looking out at the action in the streets of Tortuga, Natalie grinned, saying, "Stay here? Not bloody well likely!"
* * * *
"Search everywhere!" cried Governor Swann, the fear in his words all but tangible as it rose above the crowded hall, "Bring anything you find immediately to me! I must know where that madman is taking my daughter!"
The people, who had been in that room since sunset the evening before, worked by the first rays of the sun that were peeking over the horizon, scattering about like a gaggle of old hens, each searching for the solution that would bring the young Miss Swann home and deliver them into the governor's favor.
No one investigated with more fervor than the Eatons.
"Father, why, exactly, are we searching for her? Does it even matter anymore?" asked Clark, taking great pains to kneel in such a way that wouldn't dirty his breeches. The way his father had been talking, it would be the last new pair for a long while.
Geoffrey raised his eyes in bitter wonderment of why he was cursed with such a mindless dolt for a son, then continued to push the potted palm aside to check for any clues. "It is because you were engaged that you must participate in the rescue. The man isn't going to hand over his fortune just because you had planned on marrying her!"
"Oh, dear," sighed Elizabeth, slipping her arm through is and leaning her head up against the wall of his chest, relishing the sound of his breathing, the one thing that, at the moment, had remained constant. Looking across the room, she watched as young Clark Eaton searched beneath a table for some hint as to where his love had gone, and her heart broke for him. "I do hope she's alright, Will. She was finally happy, she had finally found her place, and now she's gone."
At his wife's softly spoken words, he placed a reassuring kiss into her fragrant hair, and then rested his chin atop her head. "Darling, there is nothing to worry about. This is Jack Sparrow we're speaking of! Natalie is the perfect medium to pass along his legacy of 'tyranny' on the high seas to land. He wouldn't let anything happen to her. I'm certain of it."
* * * *
"So then, I ran through the armory, with nothing more than a pistol, equipped with two shots and little powder, and the entire French army charging just a hair's breadth behind me!" shouted Jack Sparrow, pausing briefly to take a swig from the jug of rum in front of him, and delighting in the pained expressions of his audience, who seemed anxious to hear the grand finale.
Slamming the glass container down on the table, he suffered their request. "So I shoot behind myself once, killing four soldiers, all lined up one behind the other, and then my last shot...BANG!...it hits a row of powder kegs! As the explosions began, I ran as fast as my legs would carry me to the only exit on the far side, and at the crash of the last detonation I..."
The words died in Jack's mouth, which had gone dry as parchment, as his eyes fell upon Natalie Swann walking into the tavern. No longer was she wearing that enormous dress, but instead, a pair of worn, brown britches fit her lower half to perfection and a billowing, formerly white shirt hung loosely from her frame, dipping down low on one shoulder to reveal her creamy, pale skin. Her hair had been freed from the restrictive knot at the nape of her neck and now hung freely in deep auburn waves down her back.
Mumbling a quick farewell to his very disappointed listeners, he rose from the wobbly wooden chair and hurried over to her side, grabbing hold of her forearm and pulling her out the front door and into the thick of Tortuga vice. Looking side to side for a safe place to keep her, he decided the only area decent enough for the lady on this Godforsaken island would be his ship. And so, he started to pull her to the left, in the direction of the Cara Mia.
Wide-eyed and speechless, Natalie watched in shock as he violently tugged her along, feeling, once again, like a child. Humiliation stung her cheeks as the unwashed miscreants took time out of their busy lives of debauchery to point and laugh at the sight she made, being disciplined by Captain Jack Sparrow.
Regaining her voice, her eyes narrowed as the anger consumed her. "Unhand me now!" she hollered, pulling back to escape his grasp.
"How 'bout no!" he said with a glance back, only tightening his hold on her wrist. This really wasn't fair. Out of all the ships, with all of the captains, in the entire world, why the hell did he get stuck baby-sitting!
Turning up onto the gangway, Jack tossed her on deck, and hopped aboard right after. Trying not to look at the picture she made, rubbing her wrist and looking up at him with blind hatred, he tried to remain calm when he asked, "What did I tell you just before I left, Miss Swann? Huh? Please. I'd like to know, for I must have forgotten!"
With a sigh, she bit back a string of insults in response to his patronizing tone and replied, "You said not to move, but I--."
He cut her off quickly, reiterating his instructions once more for her. "I said NOT TO MOVE! Is there anything in those few words that you find cryptic or confusing in any way!? I'd be thrilled to clarify for you, lass!"
Hopping to her feet, she jumped at him, yelling a reply directly to her face. "I'm frightfully sorry, Mister Sparrow, but I don't relish being told what I can and cannot do! In case you've forgotten, that is precisely why I left!"
"Ah, yes, why you left! Let's dwell on that delightful bit of information for a while, shall we?" he shouted, waving his hands wildly about above his head. "I am placing my crew at great risk by keeping you aboard, missy! Did it ever once occur to you that the incredibly uptight citizens of Port Royale might believe that you were kidnapped? They already know that I am the captain, all they have to do is seek the damn fleet on me now!"
She fell silent at his words, and slowly backed away from him. Raising her chin, she calmly stated, "No, I hadn't thought of that. I wouldn't dream of imposing so I will just stay here in Tortuga. Farewell." And with that, she started for the gangway.
His arm shot out and stopped her from leaving. From beside him, she raised her eyes to his and his stomach did some odd sort of nose dive. Training his eyes to look at the boom directly in front of him, he explained himself. "Norrington will have an even better reason to hang me if I leave you in such a place as this. You will stay with us for the time being, until we decide what to do with you. Savvy?"
Natalie simply nodded and replied, "I thank you for you graciousness, sir."
Dropping his hands from her, he stalked off across the deck. "There really is no need for such formality, Miss. You aren't a member of my crew so you can just call me Jack."
She smiled and walked over to his side, reciprocating his gesture. "Very well. But if I am to call you Jack, then you must call me Natalie." Copying his former utterance she gave a pirate-like growl and said, "Savvy?"
Raising an eyebrow, he struggled to suppress a grin, but feigned little amusement. "Do me a favor, would you? Never do that again. It really doesn't suit you, love." In response, her laughter rang out, clear and strong, and his gut turned over again. Changing the subject, he sent her a wink. "So, Natalie, where exactly did you lose that dress of yours to?"
"Ah, wouldn't you like to know!"
* * * *
It only took Jack the better part of an hour to realize that his decision to keep Natalie on may not have been the wisest. Now that they were out of land's sight and encounters with other ships were few and far between, there was nothing left for him to do but slowly succumb to her all-encompassing presence. Why, he hadn't a chance in Hell of keeping a single thought in his head with her around, let alone run an entire ship!
She was electrifying! Her laughter seemed to forever float upon the cool sea breeze, carrying it to his ears no matter where he was on board. She was always quick to smile and when she did, she was never coquettish or coy about it, just genuine.
And those damned eyes of hers, they were bewitching! The same deep green color of the seas he loved to sail on, and just as mysterious. They sparkled with gold when she was in good spirits, but when she lost her temper, they turned dark, almost black, like the open sky just before a squall. Natalie, with her utter perfection, had the entire crew bamboozled, especially the captain.
In all honesty, he couldn't complain either. It was nice having a woman around, for a change.
Ana Maria had been the only other lady he'd ever sailed with, but she was less a lady than she was just another one of the boys, so, in essence, she didn't really count. She commanded cooperation with threats, and usually it worked because she could flatten each and every crewman on his back, and they all knew it.
Natalie was feminine and lovely, but it seemed to work in the same way, for no one wanted to disappoint her. The food no longer tasted like the sole of an old shoe since she gave Spits some help in the galley and the Cara Mia had never looked tidier than after she hollered at the crew for leaving their belongings all over. All in all, the men were considerably less difficult with her on board, all of them trying to get a grin or a few words from her so they could go brag about it to the rest.
It was going to be hell getting rid of her, thought Jack, shaking his head as he looked out over the sea. Suddenly, a few shouts from the aft found their way to his ears and he stormed off to see what was going on. The men were all gathered in a huge heap at the base of the second mast, their eyes all trained upwards. He followed their line of sight and his heart died with a thud in his chest at what he saw.
Apparently, Natalie had lost her mind, for she was halfway up the cargo net that led to the crows nest, the highest point of the ship. "Move...now!" Jack shouted pushing his way through the crowd. It was all he could do to just look up in awe, completely petrified for her. "Natalie!" he yelled, "Get down from there, will you!"
She heard him calling her, but she refused to stop. Not when she was this close to reaching the top! She was on a pirate ship, why not do the most dangerous and unladylike thing on board. With a grin, she continued her climb.
He stood there, slack jawed, as she simply ignored his command and kept on going. Driven by the fear and anger that coursed through his veins at the mere sight of her, he quickly dropped his belt and hat and scrambled up the net after her.
Natalie felt the extra weight drag down the bottom of the netting and heard him grumbling profanities that she had never even heard of until that moment, and hastened her ascent. With each hand-hand-foot-foot bound, she came just a little bit closer to sitting on top of the world, and she wasn't about to let anyone, not even Captain Jack Sparrow, stop her!
* * * *
"Elizabeth, you must stay here. Your sister is already in enough danger, and it would be impossible for me to devote myself entirely to her rescue if I must worry about you as well," Governor Swann said with a small smile, patting her on the head before calling a "Farewell" and walking up the gangway onto the Dauntless.
She bit back a string of rather impolite speech and balled her fists at her sides. Even marriage couldn't bring her into adulthood in her father's eyes! Putting her anger on hold for a moment, she reached out for Commodore Norrington's sleeve as he passed by. He turned to face her and smiled, "Hello, Elizabeth! You look lovely this evening, despite all that has happened."
"Why thank you, James," she replied with a smile, her mind searching for a similar compliment. Motioning to his uniform, she burst out with, "Um, blue suits you. Fabulous shade, if I may say so."
The puzzled look he sent her was enough to inspire her to end her flattery. "James, I need to come with you. I simply cannot wait here and do nothing. She's my sister."
With a sigh, he shook his head. "Darling, you know I cannot. Your father--."
"My father is governor, yes, but you are the very pinnacle of the British Navy! Override his decision! William and myself, we have sailed with Captain Sparrow before, we could be of use!" she said with fervor. Raising her eyes to his she pleaded with him, "Please, James. For me?"
With a sigh, he threw his hand in the direction of the gangway, and said blandly, "After you, Miss Turner." Simply nodding as she rejoiced and her husband smiled at him, he inwardly cursed himself for his weakness, and followed them up. "Make ready the vessel, gents, we sail!"
* * * *
Natalie swung her leg over the side of the railing and backed up until she was flush against the mast and sighed. The jolly roger fluttered proudly in the breeze above her head, drowning out the sounds of everything else on the deck below. Looking out over the sea, it looked as smooth as fine silk, coating everything beneath her with its beauty. The sun was just starting to sink below the horizon, painting the sky with every color imaginable.
Jack, now very dizzy from the exertion and the excess of rum he had ingested that afternoon, lifted himself over the banister and into the crow's nest with her. He opened his mouth, prepared to lambaste her for driving him completely insane, but froze at the sight of her. She stood there, pinned up against the mast with a bemused smile gazing out at the miles and miles of open ocean.
He remembered his first time up there. It took a crew of seventy's insults and a good hour or so to get him to brave the climb, but once he landed in that basket, he never wanted to leave. There was no good or evil up there, no right or wrong, no strength or weakness. It was just a sailor and the whole world, with no interruptions.
"Natalie," he began, knowing he had to get her down from there eventually, but she turned to him, the sunset reflected in her eyes and its dying rays turning her hair to russet as it floated on the sea air, and laid a hand across his mouth.
"Shhh," she whispered, "Not now." Grabbing hold of his hand, she pulled him over to her small side of the crow's nest and leaned back against him, wrapping his arms around her. Together, they simply stood there and watched the sun take its leave, neither one speaking.
When just a sliver of the day star remained visible, they wordlessly broke apart and started down the net again, him first with her following ahead. The men cheered as her bare feet hit the oaken boards of the deck, and in response, she smiled but moved past them to the very front of the ship.
Jack nodded to the men who patted him on the back for getting her down, but his mind was elsewhere. Something was happening. Something that was much bigger than he'd ever anticipated, and now he had to figure out what he was going to do about it.
* * * *
Geoffrey Eaton was up to his clear, blue eyeballs in trouble, and was still sinking.
His son sat in the wingback chair at the far corner of their cabin on board the Dauntless, inspecting his fingernails for any sign of filth and periodically raising his eyes to his father in wonderment that the fine, Axminster carpet wasn't showing signs of wear after all of the pacing the older man had been doing. Why, the mere rate of his gait was enough to inspire dizziness!
With an exasperated sigh, Clark soon abandoned his vow of silence and said, "Oh, will you have a seat already, Father? Between your unending treading and this rickety old boat swaying so, I just might relieve myself of my lunch!" Leaning back in the red leather chair, he massaged his forehead and closed his eyes, trying to imagine himself on dry land.
His jaw hanging open like that of a dead fish, Geoffrey halted and simply stared at his son in complete astonishment, practically speechless. "What are you about!?" he shouted, waving his hands wildly above his head. "Sometimes I think that you and I simply aren't sharing the same universe! How can you not comprehend what is going on here!?"
"You are too stressed, my good man," Clark said, his tone expressing how obvious he found the problem to be, "All you do is scheme and fret when you should be enjoying all that the world has to offer...like I do." Crossing one leg over the other, he pulled out a cheroot and inhaled deeply before lighting one end and calmly puffing away on it.
The man's eyes widened to the size of bread plates as he stormed over to his son. Looming over him, he locked his boy into the chair by leaning on both arms so he would be sure to hear. "You insufferable TWIT! Of course I am stressed!" He brandished the smoking cigar after snatching it from a very surprised Clark and whispered fiercely, "I cannot 'enjoy all that the world has to offer' because that costs MONEY, and without my 'scheming and fretting', you wouldn't be able to either!"
Geoffrey fought the urge to jump for joy when his son did nothing but blink in response, so he continued to vent his frustrations. "You, my dear boy, should be fretting as well because not only do we have a decided lack of funds and pirates after us, but now we also have to conceal these facts from the governor, the commodore, and a whole lot of soldiers, who, just in case you have forgotten, WE ARE TRAPPED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN WITH!"
Clark blinked once more, swallowing past the lump in his throat before self-consciously muttering, "Oh."
"Yes, 'oh'," he said matter-of-factly, turning quickly on his heel and stalking out of the dimly lit cabin and up to the main deck, into the all engulfing blackness of night.
* * * *
Jack stood at his watch, looking out at the world, beneath its veil of darkness, simply adorned with the full moon and her many stars, with unseeing eyes. Funny, he'd always relished his time as lookout; he even found it peaceful on occasion. But that was before today. Frustrated, he called out to the nearest sailor to take the wheel from him and made his way up to the quarter deck to be alone.
Sliding his calloused hand over the smooth, wooden banister, he inhaled deeply, taking the balmy sea air into his lungs in an effort to calm himself. But despite the quiet lull of the whitecaps against the keel and the stillness of his surroundings, Natalie was on his mind, as she had been for the past three days, and there wasn't much of a chance that his thoughts of her would go away any time soon.
He had no idea when it happened, how or even why, but Jack no longer thought of her as that bonny miss who had taken up residence on his ship quite unexpectedly. She had now become that bonny miss who had taken up residence in his heart quite unexpectedly.
Sure, she was lovely, but he had bedded some of the most beautiful lasses in the world, some who even physically surpassed her charms. Natalie was smart too, but so were most people he'd come across in his travels in comparison to himself. She was fiery, but Anna Maria was more so, and he could hardly tolerate that woman!
The buccaneer had been through his thoughts time and time again, searching for a logical reason, and, in turn, a cure for his ailment, but it was all for naught. Jack was still just as unaware of the answer as he had been at the beginning.
With a moan, he leaned over the railing, raking his fingers through his long, tangled hair and asked, "Oh, why me!?"
"Is something amiss?"
The softly spoken inquiry drove him from his sorry state, and his head snapped up in response. Sending a biting look skyward as a rather acerbic sign of thanks for his God awful timing, Jack straightened up and spun about. He knew precisely who he was going to find standing there, and so he mentally prepared himself for the fallout.
Still, the wind was all but knocked from his lungs as his eyes careened into the beautiful picture Natalie made, bathed in pale moonlight with her glossy tresses aloft in the mild sea air. It was all Jack could do to simply stand there and stare at her, his brow furrowed as all manner of thought and feeling coursed through him.
"Jack?"
The concern in her utterance that was also reflected in her eyes drew him from his thoughts and into the realization that she was, indeed, speaking to him and did require an answer, preferably some time in the near future.
With a quick twitch of his mustache into a reassuring grin, he soon fell back into confusion, forgetting what she had even asked in the first place. "Hum?"
Moving towards him, she raised an eyebrow in quiet inspection. "Are you foxed?"
That was a fair assumption. Raising a hand in front of his mouth, he exhaled a few times and quickly sniffed the air for any sign of alcohol. Shaking his head, he replied, "Unfortunately, no."
Natalie rolled her eyes at his response, fighting to hold back a smile in fear of encouraging the man, and moved past him to the rail. Gazing out into the endless night, she rested her hands on the sea-sprayed, weathered wood and sighed at the beauty of it all, wishing she could stay there forever. With him.
"So, what brings you here at this hour?" he asked softly, coming up beside her, "Couldn't sleep?"
Nodding, she elaborated. "I have a lot on my mind, it seems." Realization dawning on her, she asked, "Am I bothering you by being here?" Natalie fixed her eyes on the breaking waves below them, avoiding those of the man who had occupied her thoughts for hours on end. Softly, she added, "If you want me to leave, I'll understand."
"Nothing could be further from what I want, love." It was only after he made that bold statement that he wished he wouldn't think out loud all the time. It was obvious that she had caught hold of his words, for those eyes of hers rushed to his.
With a humorless laugh, he struggled to ease the tension he'd created with a joke. Leaning over, he whispered in her ear, "I must admit, your company is a refreshing change from the scalawags I usually share me watch with."
Natalie chuckled softly at his comment, but the thrill of experiencing the warmth of his lips against the cool, exposed column of her neck, had quickly taken over her senses.
She knew he was still hovering beside her for she could still feel his slow, even breathing as it met her skin. Slowly, she turned her head and found herself scant inches from his, which set her pulse to racing.
Her eyes narrowed in concentration as they roved over his features, memorizing him as a harmonious mixture of shadow and moonlight. At first glance, the captain was simply filthy and bizarre looking, but as she stood there, peering up at him, all she could find was a strange sort of perfection.
He had a rather regal air about him, his cheek bones, high, and his nose, strong and proud, in spite of his involvement in many a fist fight which he had alluded to in the past. Wordlessly, she raised her hand to his cheek, moving her fingers leisurely across his skin which bore the coloring of the sun and the moisture of the sea.
Jack's gaze flew to her hand, wondering if she was preparing to soundly slap him. Much to his relief, she didn't strike, but the feelings that surfaced as a result of her silent exploration were enough to make him wish she had. At least he knew how to deal with blind hatred.
She watched as his down set stare moved to hers. The captain really did have beautiful eyes. The color of fine brandy and rimmed in black kohl to keep the sun out, they glistened beneath the muted glow of the night sky, not once straying from hers.
The seconds they had spent standing there soon felt like an eternity, when someone started to approach. She had no idea who moved first, nor did she care at the moment. Her eye lids fluttered to a close and she lifted her chin to receive what she had been waiting her whole life for...
In his entire career of piracy, with all of the trappings of murdering, pillaging, and debauchery, Jack couldn't recall ever being more scared than he was at that moment, closing in on Natalie.
With a silent prayer to any and every god or goddess he had ever learned of throughout his many exploits in his lifetime, he swiftly closed the distance between them, capturing her lips beneath his...
* * * *
RECENTLY UPDATED
Here's To Freedom
"Oh, Natalie, darling! You look absolutely stunning!" Elizabeth Swann said, patting her little sister's auburn curls and stepping back to admire the work of her abagails. "Thank you, ladies. That will be all."
Natalie Swann watched as the two girls left, waiting in silent dread for her sister's incessant babbling to start up again. Without distractions, the woman of twenty had the ability to go on and on for whole hours without breaking a sweat. It never ceased to amaze, really.
As the door clicked closed, Elizabeth, as expected, continued. "Well, who would have known that all of this loveliness was hiding beneath that rakish exterior of yours? Why young Clark Eaton just might fall through the floor at the sight of you, Nattie!"
At the mere mention of his name, Natalie rolled her eyes skyward in a silent prayer for mercy. The man was completely vexing, always hanging about, spouting flowery words about her timeless beauty and its devestating effect on his poor heart, words she knew to be empty and devoid of any real meaning.
If Clark had truly had his way, he would be in William Turner's shoes beside her sister, but there was no way that oaf could compete with an honorable man like Will. He was charismatic and proper, heroic and dashing. Damn near perfect, in her opinion. And, of course, he was completely smitten with Elizabeth. Wasn't it always the way?
"Natalie? Natalie!" Her sister's raised voice brought her from her thoughts with a jolt, and, for a moment, she shook her head to regain her senses. "We really must be going or we will certainly be late for Master Eaton's soirée, and think of how dreadful it will look, the governor's family arriving in the middle of the main course!"
With an exasperated sigh, Natalie shook her head and picked up her satin fan, moving to the door behind Elizabeth with a mocking whisper, "Yes, dreadful, indeed."
* * * *
"Clark!" Geoffrey Eaton called, the marble-faced grandeur of the grand hall magnifying the impatience in his voice. "Clark Allen Eaton! Show yourself immediately!" He didn't have time for such foolishness this evening. A houseful of guests would be arriving shortly and there was much he had to see to before they did.
He opened his mouth once more, preparing to holler, when he saw his son, liltingly descending the spiral staircase. Shaking his head at the pathetic picture he made, Geoffry reminded himself that it was on the shoulders of this abominable boy to save the Eaton name. The image didn't exactly inspire confidence. "Clark, now!"
"Yes, Father?" he asked, approaching with an unhurried gait. Well one thing he could give the lad credit for was his appearance. Of course, money can buy attire that can miraculously alter even the most horrendous of individuals, but the gentle waves in his blonde hair, his almost translucent blue eyes, and his impeccable bone structure, proved that he'd obviously inherited his father's good looks.
With a harsh whisper, he pulled his son in close and started in quickly. "Now, son, I cannot begin to stress enough how important tonight is to the survival of this family. We are practically in debt, Clark, and unless you relish the thought of taking up a pick axe in place of that pen of yours, you'd better be successful in your ministrations tonight!"
Clark rolled his eyes and replied, "I know, Father. Truthfully, I really can't fathom how this could be difficult at all. Who else in their right mind has ever approached the prickly Natalie Swann with romantic intent? Even if she isn't moved by my proposal, her father wouldn't want to bring shame on the family by toting around an old maid, so she'll have to say 'yes'!"
"Clark, do not underestimate that one! She's lovely, to be sure, but she is certainly no fool, so you'd better hope you are as charming as you seem to think."
With a cocky chuckle, he pulled away from his father's grasp and leaned nonchalantly against a table full of potted hydrangeas. "Father, you're forgetting, I'm a poet! One heart-wrenching sonnet from me, and she won't be able to resist!"
* * * *
Natalie couldn't help the audible sigh of relief that escaped her lungs as the carriage slowed to a stop in front of the Eaton house, after the considerable trek from the north side of the island. Truth be told, being tossed about like a rag doll in that horse-dragged box had made her more than a little queasy. Governor Swann shot his daughter a scathing look at her vocal protest and climbed down, extending his hand to help her out.
Sliding her hand into his, Natalie stepped out into the warm, sweet-smelling Caribbean night, savoring the feeling of standing still and just being alive. The pale moonlight bathed all that surrounded her in this ethereal glow, casting magnificent shadows of the swaying banana palms and moss covered rock formations on the cobbles beneath her feet. Smiling to herself, she silently wondered if there was any other place on Earth more beautiful than Port Royale in that instant.
"Excuse me, Miss Natalie," she heard from behind her. Tossing a glance over her right shoulder, she saw Will send her a grin, waiting patiently behind her to exit the surrey.
Her emerald eyes widened and her face flushed pink with embarrassment. Of all people to see her slip into bumbling incoherency, it had to be Will, her awful luck wouldn't permit otherwise! Finally realizing that even after he was kind enough to point out her mistake, she still had yet to move, Natalie darted out of the way. "Please forgive me. I lost myself for a moment."
Will simply hopped down onto the stone path, and brushing a wisp of dark wavy hair out of his eyes, he presented her with his devastatingly handsome smile, calling, "Think nothing of it, Miss Natalie."
She nearly sighed out loud, that was until he helped Elizabeth along, their eyes locked on one another, and no one else. Dear Lord, it was enough to make any girl feel like taking a leap from the nearest cliff!
"Natalie, darling!"
As if watching her beautiful older sister walk away with the man of the century wasn't enough! Her eyes instantly narrowed at the sound of his voice, booming across the once peaceful courtyard. She didn't even have to look upon him to know who it was, for only one person would be lurking in the darkness, anticipating her arrival.
Feigning utter delight, she spun to face him with a brilliant smile and replied, "Why, hello, Master Eaton! It is a pleasure to see you again."
He grinned like a fool and all but leapt over to where Natalie stood. Bowing down before her, he made an enormous fuss out of caressing her hand and placing a kiss atop it, so much so that she had to struggle to stifle the bout of hysterical laughter that threatened to consume her with each ridiculous gesture the man made.
"No, my dear, the pleasure is all mine," Clark whispered suggestively, raising his clear blue eyes to hers. Everything about him told her he wasn't being genuine, but casting a sidelong-glance at a suddenly interested Will and Elizabeth, she pretended not to mind it in the slightest. "I thank you and your family for accepting our invitation."
Turning to address her father, he bowed once more, sans hand-fondling, and said, "Governor Swann, we are honored and delighted to have you as a guest in our home."
"Why thank you, son," he said cheerfully. Offering his elbow to his youngest daughter, the governor smiled and inclined his head towards the massive estate that loomed nearby. "Shall we?"
Natalie bushed past Clark to her where her father was waiting, with a smile. As was typical of the man, he probably didn't realize what he'd just done, but he was indeed her salvation. "Why, I thought you would never ask!"
* * * *
Like most parties and balls given by the wealthy of Port Royale, the Eatons' was a magnificent affair, dripping with decadence.
The Grand Hall was bustling with hundreds of the host's closest friends, its walls were practically dripping with rich fabrics, precious metals, and more superfluous swag. Exotic foods prepared by the finest chefs, no doubt imported from Europe, coated tables that lined the entire perimeter of the room. In the center, the magnificent spiral staircase gave way to a platform that housed a string quartet, playing waltzes and quadrilles for the dancers swirling gracefully across the floor, two by two.
All in all, the sensory overload was simply too immense to escape.
As was young Clark Eaton. Why, Natalie had been sneaking from one potted palm to another for hours, trying to remain unseen by the whelp, and frankly, the effort was putting an even larger damper on her already horrendous evening.
She suddenly spotted him across the room, strolling towards her. With a gasp, Natalie quickly bounded behind Madame Blake's enormously tasteless dress and gaggle of eligible teenage daughters to hide. Hardly daring to take a breath for fear of discovery, Natalie waited in absolute silence, finally managing a smile when complete bewilderment crossed Clark's features and he turned to walk away.
But not a moment later, a gentle tap on her bare shoulder caused her to jump a mile out of her skin and set her heart to pounding. When Natalie whirled about and saw who it was, the problem only worsened. "Well, hello there, Master Turner! You're having an enjoyable evening, I pray?"
"A lovely time indeed, and what of you?" he asked. It was all Natalie could do to nod and smile, and, marking this as her answer, he forged on with the conversation. "While I'm pleased to hear this, Miss Swann, I've noticed that you have been hiding along the wall here for some time now. Would you care to dance with me?" he asked, making a formal bow and offering his hand.
Natalie looked at him, wondering if he had gone daft. She needn't think twice about the matter! "Why thank you, I would be delighted!" she replied with a smile. Placing her hand in his, she followed him to the floor, the whole time coaching her body to resist the urge to swoon.
The quartet had been playing a lively number, and immediately, Will swept her into a series of twirls and spins, taking her breath away while she laughed and laughed. The world around them faded into a blur until all she could see was his smiling face and all she ever wanted to feel, from that moment until the end of time, was William Turner in her arms.
"Pardon me, good sir, but might I cut in?"
The words infiltrated her subconscious, dragging her, kicking and screaming, from her own little dream world, back to reality. The man couldn't be for real, it just wasn't possible! Clark had always possessed a certain knack for finding her at the least oppertune moments, but this was too much! It suddenly became clear to Natalie that a stern talking-to for her guardian angel was in order!
Will nodded, placed a polite kiss upon her hand, and thanked her for the dance before walking away to rejoin Elizabeth. With yet another sigh, she turned her attention to the oaf who stood before her, holding his arms out expectantly. "Actually, Master Eaton--."
"Please, do call me Clark, darling."
"Very well," she corrected, with an exasperated sigh, "Master Clark, I could use a breath of fresh air, for it is dreadfully warm in here. So, if you would excuse me, I will take my leave."
As Natalie turned to walk away, her tormentor boldly grabbed hold of her hand. Fighting the desperate urge to pummel the man, she spun around to find him looking upon her with that self-assured grin of his. "Please, allow me to accompany you, my pet."
Gritting her teeth against a violent outburst, she nodded sharply and hurried through the crowd, dragging him behind her. Natalie had dealt with him peacably for the last two years of her life, but if he used one more endearment in reference to her, she couldn't promise that she wouldn't end his life, right then and there.
Once free of the hall and its heaving mass of people, she wriggled free of Clark's grip and moved across the stone patio. Leaning her forearms on the short wall at its perimeter, she looked out over the sea, now enveloped in complete darkness, and took deep breaths in an attempt to regain her composure.
Hearing his shoes clicking against the smooth cobbles as he moved towards her, she rolled her eyes and prepared herself for the worst. "My, my, the island is certainly beautiful tonight," he said softly, the genuine awe in his words shocking her, to say the least.
"That it is," she replied, trying to enjoy his change in attitude for she knew not how long it would be present.
Not a moment after, he confirmed her belief that people never really changed. "The air is calm, the night is shady. I ask you, Natalie, be my lady!" Clark recited, reading from a small scrap of parchment that he had taken from his jacket pocket.
Quickly, he scrambled to his knees, remembering that it was customary when proposing marriage, and pulled out a golden ring with a large diamond set in the middle. Her eyes widened as a combination of his awful rhyming skills, the size of the bauble, and the sheer idiocy of the man to ask for her hand slammed into her all at once. Opening her mouth to inform him of her rejection, she was cut off by a piercing shriek.
"Oh, Natalie!" Elizabeth cried, hurrying over with Will and their father in tow, "This is such wonderful news! We must inform everyone immediately!" She would have run off and told the entire free world, had her husband not held her back.
With a supportive smile, Will intertwined his hand with her sister's and said, "Congratulations, Miss Natalie. I'm sure you two will be very happy together."
"But...I--," she stammered, unable to believe what was happening. It was as though she was simply watching the event unfold before her very eyes and she could do nothing to stop it.
It was then that her eyes fell upon her father.
He said nothing, but his expression spoke volumes. The bemused smile on his face as he gazed upon his youngest daughter, looking beautiful and poised in her new evening finery and more mature than he had ever noticed before melted any objection she had been preparing to voice.
Unable to kill the pride reflected in his countenance, she stood there in silence as Clark slipped the ring on her finger, rose, and placed a kiss on her cheek, her eyes never breaking contact with her father's. Natalie couldn't bear to embarrass or disappoint him, so she decided to do the only thing she could do in the situation: run away.
* * * *
In all of the chaos that erupted at the announcement of her betrothal to Clark Eaton, Natalie managed to slip out undetected. Casting one final glance back at her beaming father, who was standing at the center of a huge crowd of well-wishers, she smiled, blinking back tears, before running down the path that led her to freedom.
* * * *
"Thar she be, gents!" one man said in a harsh whisper as they crept closer and closer to the well-lit estate that stood grandly on the hill before them. As their boot-clad feet hit the cobble stone path leading up to it, not another word was spoken, with every man focused intently upon the job that lay ahead.
Silently, they made their way to the Eaton family home, pausing just outside the front entrance to rehash the plan one more time. Casey Shaw, the captain's weathered, but sharp, first mate, gathered the men in a huddle, softly saying, "Remember, lads, this is a recovery mission. We threaten everything and do nothing. Unless, of course, you are threatened yourself, in which case you may do everything and refrain from doing nothing. Is that understood?"
The crew simply sat there in utter bewilderment, with the man's rather perplexing instructions echoing in their heads, but not registering. Raising eyebrows and whispering to one another, the men tried to find someone who understood the cryptic command. Finally, one of the sailors asked, "Huh?"
The man of twenty was greeted with fifty fists, belonging to fifty angry men, aimed at his face for breaking their cover of silence. Fed up, Casey growled low and mean, "Get on with yeh', you scalawags!"
With a hearty roar, the men all dashed for the foyer, kicking down the doors with swords drawn and pistols aimed. While they weren't expecting a crowd of two hundred to be waiting on the other side, they still delighted in the fearful expressions and piercing screams that burst forth upon their appearance.
"On yer feet, nobody moves!" cried Casey, wildly brandishing his dagger over his head for all to see, "Now, where be Master Geoffrey Eaton? Step forward!"
One by one, the crowd slowly parted, all turning back to look at the man the pirate had called for, searching his expressionless face for a hint as to why this was happening. Slowly, he advanced through the trough of guests until he was toe to toe with the tall lanky buccaneer who had called his name.
In a whisper, Geoffrey replied simply, his voice shaking slightly, "I don't have it now, but I will get it for you. Please, just don't do this."
"I believe it's a little late fer you to be makin' requests, Eaton!" he said. Turning to the rest of the men, Casey cried, "'Sack it, boys!"
Immediately, the screams of petrified guests could be heard while all stood there, completely helpless and without weapons, since most parties didn't involve pirate raids, wondering if this moment would be their last. The surly men kept away from the crowd who were huddled close in the center of the room, running to the walls instead where most of the valuable items were displayed.
Watching as the men snatched up everything that wasn't nailed down, and even some things that were, Will furrowed his brow in confusion. There was the grand gala, the unexpected engagement, and the finale of felons...why, it was all too strange for them to not be related. Something was amiss, and he knew it. Now all he had to do was deduce what that thing was, exactly.
Pushing his way towards the outer ring of party-goers, he called out to one of the rogues. In response, the man turned his person, and his pistol, upon Will with a scowl. "Were you not payin' mind when Mister Shaw, there, told you to keep quiet!?"
"My mistake," he replied. Withdrawing three shillings from his waistcoat pocket, he held them out to the man with a question. "If you would be so kind as to tell me, good sir, who your captain might be, I'll be as silent as a church mouse, henceforth."
Eyeing the coins suspiciously, he quickly snatched them from Will's hand as he shouted, "Me cap'in juss so happens to be the most feared pirate in all the seven seas!" At his words, the men took time from their looting and cheered wildly, "Jack Sparrah!"
* * * *
Natalie looked up from the foyer to the house where she had lived for most of her life, one last time. Gazing intently, she struggled to record every small detail of it; the teake banister, scuffed with time and use, the soft light emanating from the candelabras that lined the walls, the scent of the sweet, tropical foliage that seemed to envelop each room with the most magnificent fragrance.
With a melancholy sigh, she withdrew a white envelope, sealed with wax that had her father's name scrawled on the front. Inside was a letter assuring him that she was going to be fine and that he should not worry about her, but still offered no explanation as to where or why she had gone. Propping it up against the side board, where someone would be sure to find it, Natalie quickly turned away and left, unable to risk staying there any longer.
Cautiously, she slipped out into the shadows, not wanting to call attention to herself or be recognized by anyone, for that would foil her escape, without question. Her feet moved soundlessly over the dirt path that led to the wharf, her mind in a state of heightened sensation as fear and anticipation took hold of her. Natalie hadn't been to this part of the island since her arrival when she was seven, but she had always been fascinated by it. Nothing compared to the autonomy of a life at sea.
Hiding behind a pile of crates, she surveyed the area. Since she couldn't purchase passage on a ship without being caught by someone and stopped, Natalie had decided that sneaking aboard a vessel was her only choice. If caught, she would simply have to rely on her minimal charms and hope for the best.
Peeking out, she saw two ships making birth at the docks, one was currently being guarded by four burly men, shooting the insects in the dirt to pass the time while the other had an old man, doubled over in a chair, fast asleep with an empty jug in his hand. Using her brilliant intellect, she chose the latter, creeping along the brush that lined the perimeter of the clearing before swiftly moving across the dimly lit dock and up the gangway.
Holding onto the rope handles with a death-grip, she exercised the utmost caution once she reached the top, careful not to ruin her stowaway attempt now that she was so close to succeeding. Taking a deep, controlling breath, she swung herself up onto the main deck, expecting to find maybe one or two men, even the whole damn crew, but certainly not what she happened upon.
Natalie looked around the completely deserted ship in disbelief. She had done it! With an uncontrollable grin, she clapped her hands at her success, but was interrupted by a loud roar.
"Yo Ho! Yo Ho! A pirate's life for me!" sang a large group of sailors, cheering and drinking as they made their way to the very vessel she was standing upon! Desperately trying to remain unnoticed, she leapt behind a pile of nets into a coil of rope which, both by height and width, fit her perfectly. Her heart pounding so loud that she swore it would give away her location, Natalie balled herself up in her hiding place to wait.
* * * *
Captain Jack Sparrow's head shot up at the knock on his cabin door. The combination of the loud rapping and his rapid movement proved to make the rum's effect all the more potent. With a wince, he called out, "Come in!"
No sooner had he slurred the words than his crew burst in, dumping armloads of glittering swag on any and all free surfaces in the small room and shouting about their adventures in pillaging to their captain. The excess noise brought his splitting headache to a new level of agony that he hadn't thought existed prior to experiencing it.
With a hefty growl, he silenced the men. "To the deck, boys! Unless it's a rope you fancy having slung 'round your neck, we'd best be leaving!" Jack hollered, "Now off with you!"
The crew took up another cheer as they filtered out of the captain's quarters to the top deck, leaving him to discuss the evening's events with his first mate. Dropping down into his worn wingback chair, Jack put his feet up on the desk and massaged his temples to alleviate some of the throbbing, to no avail. "So, how did you fare?" he asked with a sigh, raising his eyes to Casey.
"Ol' Eaton didn't have the money, but he did have a house full of guests, so we looted to make up for it. Seein' as most of his guests were filthy rich, the booty'll probably amount to a king's ransom!" he said, the thrill of the plunder still raising the pitch of his voice.
At his close friend's account, Jack sat up, putting his boot-clad feet back on the floor and leaning expectantly over his desk. "What do you mean Eaton didn't have the money? The man rivals the damn governor in funds!"
Casey shrugged and replied, "Jack, I'm juss tellin' you what I know. He said he di'n have it."
Puzzled, he tucked the bit of information aside to come back to later. "Did anything else of particular interest happen?" he asked.
Seriously contemplating his question, the second in command thought back to the night's earlier occurrences. Just when Jack was prepared to ask him to get a good night's sleep over it, Casey jumped up out of the wooden chair he had been sitting in, across from the captain's desk. "Come ta think of it, there was somethin' goin' on. They were all congratulatin' the gov'na and Eaton's boy. Probably a weddin's comin' up," he said with a shrug. "Oh, and some bloke asked me who me cap'in was. We answered him right quick and proudly, but I din't find out why. I pro'lly shoulda, right?"
Toying with the pair of braids hanging from his chin, Jack furrowed his brow in deep thought. An engagement involving the Governor and young Eaton...could it be Elizabeth? No, it couldn't have been because William had been after her. But then who else could be marrying the lad?
Still unsure of all of the details that were swimming through his mind, Jack nodded to his first mate in thanks. "Good work, Mister Shaw. Go keep an eye on the crew. I'll take third watch tomorrow."
"Aye, cap'in. Have a pleasurable evenin'," he said, taking his leave and letting the rough, oak door slam shut on his way out.
Leaning back in his chair once more, he shook his head. "Not bloody well likely!"
* * * *
Will watched through the front window as the last of Jack's men scrambled down the hill by torchlight with Master Eaton's valuables. Through the thin panes of glass, he could hear them bellowing the words to a pirate song that he'd often heard his wife singing. He struggled to suppress a grin at the thought of his old friend, and shook his head as he turned to face the rest of the guests.
"Are they gone?!" asked the governor, his voice rather shrill from fear. After his first major experience with pirates, almost two years prior, when Elizabeth was taken hostage aboard the Black Pearl, he had developed a justifiable aversion to them.
Nodding, he approached the huddled mass at the center of the hall and said, "They've gone. Is everyone alright?" Will's eyes scanned the room before him, but no one appeared to be injured or harmed in any way, as was typical of the captain. He liked to leave survivors to perpetuate the tales of his legendary ferocity.
Taking one final inventory of the people in attendance, he noticed something. "Where is Miss Natalie?"
An audible gasp could be heard from the crowd who all turned to their neighbors to whisper and seek out the missing girl in their midst. Slowly, as they failed to find her, wails and cries rose and filled the cold, marble echo chamber with haunting sound. Someone in the fray raised up an emerald green, satin fan that she had found on the floor...the same fan that Natalie had been seen with earlier.
This seemed to be enough proof for those present, and suddenly, a holler went up, voicing what everyone else had been thinking. "She's been kidnapped! The pirates have the governor's daughter!"
* * * *
Casey watched with a nostalgic smile as some of the new crewmen ran over to the side of the deck to get their first look at the wonder that was Tortuga. To those who'd never before seen it, the island was nothing more than fantastic heresay. It was only after one had arrived that the mere musings of an island devoted entirely to sin became reality!
He remembered his first trip out there, and he doubted that the lady he'd spent it with had forgotten either. Why, yes, that was one hell of a story--
"Mister Shaw," called the captain from the helm, handing the wheel back to Mister Hardy and approaching his first mate. "Drop the port anchor. We'll be here for the day." Convinced of his man's competence, he moved below deck to retrieve the essentials from his cabin.
Nodding sharply, Casey hollered "You 'eard him, men! Drop the port anchor, we're goin' ashore!"
A rousing cheer went up from the crew and they all dashed to their respective stations and went to work, pulling the Cara Mia into the harbor. There were grunts and groans, "heaves" and "ho's" as they yanked on the ropes, but suddenly, a huge commotion started over by the anchor.
Shaking his head and muttering under his breath, something about how many morons it takes to toss a chunk of metal over board, Casey hurried over to see what all the fuss was about. "What is it--," he asked, pausing as he saw precisely what it was. Tipping his head to the side, he quoted his captain in the shock of the discovery. "Well, that's interesting."
* * * *
"Oh, where are you hiding!" shouted Jack, crawling about on the floor and rifling through the many papers that littered its surface in search of something of great importance. "Aha!" Shimmying under his desk, his hand fell upon the desired document. But before he could even relish in his success, there was a frantic knock at the door and then it flew open. Startled, he jumped and slammed his head against the rough wood, emitting a painful yelp shortly afterwards.
Casey looked at the captain, who, at present, had his rear end facing out, wriggling about in an effort to free himself from the desk, and raised an eyebrow. "Cap'in, we found something you might be interested in. That is, if you could spare a moment."
Rolling his eyes, Jack cursed whatever god existed for allowing a member of his crew to see him in such a state. "I'll never live this down," he muttered, slowly backing out of the small enclosure.
Hopping to his feet, he whirled around and his eyes slammed into the mossy green gaze of a stranger...a very female stranger. Furrowing his brow, he silently wondered why she looked so frightened. "Who are you?"
She opened her mouth to respond, but Casey jumped in with his account. "She's a stowaway, cap'in! The men found'er in the extra anchor rope. Almost threw her over board, they did! She won't talk though."
"Well, I wonder why," he responded, his eyes never leaving hers. She really did have remarkable eyes. Shaking his head, he brought himself back to reality. Knowing that he'd get absolutely nowhere with his first mate interjecting at every chance he was given, he dismissed the man. "Mister Shaw, I think I'll just carry on from here."
The man looked puzzled. "Are ye sure, sir?"
Nodding prolifically, he sighed, feigning boredom, and added, "Interrogation can be awful tedious, but it's one of many chores that comes with the title of Captain, I fear. If you would, take the men ashore. I'll join you when we're through here."
"If ye be insistin' Cap'in." Turning to leave, the man called back, "Juss beware, women are a frightfully persuasive lot, they are."
"Yes, yes, of course. Thank you, Shaw. I'll keep that in mind." Jack said, slowly closing the door as the man exited at the pace of a snail. As the final thud of the oak resonated in the quiet room, he turned back to his guest. "My apologies, love. He means well."
Crossing the room, he motioned for her to take a seat across from his desk, but she declined. "Actually, sir, I would really like to explain my presence on your vessel here, if you'd allow me to."
Raising an eyebrow, he paused half-way through, attempting to sit down in his chair to say, "Well, someone's just rearing to go... How 'bout you tell me your name instead, love?"
"My name is Miss Natalie Swann of Port Roy--."
"It can't be," he said, plopping down in the stiff chair with his dark eyes wide and full of questions. Leaning across the desk, Jack let out a humorless laugh and asked, "You aren't related to a Miss Elizabeth Swann, are you?"
He watched, in complete fascination of his luck, as she let out an exasperated sigh and responded, "Yes, Captain. She is my elder sister, why do you ask?"
His mouth dropped open in shock. "Since when is there more than one Miss Swann?"
"Since I was born!" she exclaimed, "Although everyone has been so inclined to ignore my existence since her 'oh so horrific' brush with pirates." With a sigh, she shook her head, discouraged that she was just as invisible outside of Port Royal as she was in it.
"Miss Swann," he said, leaning further over his desk and lowering his voice to a mere whisper, "I am Captain Jack Sparrow." In silence, he waited, no hoped, for the information to register in her mind. It would be nice to be feared, or even revered, for once.
The second those words escaped his lips, it was Natalie's turn to collapse into the nearest chair with an expression resembling that of a gutted fish. Stumbling over her words, she choked out, "Jack Sparrow!" She looked around her, and added in a hushed tone, "Then THIS is the Black Pearl? I don't mean to be rude, but I had imagined it to be a bit more terrible than this!"
With a sneer he muttered, "Yes, well, everyone's a critic." Rising from his chair, he paced across the cabin to the rear wall of small square windows and looked out at the bustling town below. "And, in answer to your question, no, this is NOT the Pearl."
Briefly returning his eyes to hers, he crossed back to the door and elaborated upon his answer. "I had promised a ship to a member of my crew, and regrettably, the one I had planned to give her was retaken by the Royal Navy. She didn't seem to care about the circumstances, and, in turn, I lost my ship. You are now aboard the Cara Mia, one of my...erm... Italian conquests," he added, with a mischievous grin.
Natalie then stood up and turned to face him, her emerald eyes boring straight into his, as if she was trying to read his thoughts, which unsettled him a bit. "So, Captain, what are you going to do about me?" She bowed her head slightly, expecting a death sentence or something dreadful like that.
"Well, not for lack of trying, we never exactly touched upon why you are on my ship," he said, crossing his arms across his chest, trying his best to look formidable so as not to discredit any of the rumors she may have heard. "So, why are you here, Miss Swann?"
Sighing, she leaned upon the back of the wooden chair in front of her and began her tale. "Last evening, I was attending a party given by a Master Geoffrey Eaton." Tugging at her deep green frock, she added, "Hence my rather uncomfortable attire. Anyhow, his idiot of a son, for one reason or another, proposed marriage to me and before I could decline, the entire island had heard. I couldn't bear to break my father's heart, so I left a note explaining my absence at home, and stowed away on your ship."
The captain simply stood there, his kohl rimmed eyes wide and his mouth gaping in complete shock. Eaton, the debt, the engagement, it was all too uncanny to be real! "This is unbelievable," he said, shaking his head.
"What is it, Captain?" Natalie asked, her voice rising in fear of what he would do to her. Swallowing past the lump in her throat, she wondered if she'd be swallowed whole or ripped to shreds by sharks if he made her walk the plank.
"Do you even realize..." he paused, a hand flying to his head in the utter insanity of their situation. Regaining his composure, he attempted his explanation once more. "My crew pillaged Geoffrey Eaton's house last night to reclaim a debt that was owed."
Furrowing his brow, in deep concentration, he pieced together the information he had acquired. "He must have known we would come for the money eventually, money he didn't have. Not that you aren't charming, love," he gave her a long, appreciative stare before continuing, "Believe me, you are. But the man was probably just looking after your father's funds, not your heart."
Moving to her side, he casually slung an arm about her shoulders and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "But do not despair, darling, you'll find someone," Jack paused and whispered the last naughty bit in her ear, "Eventually."
Brushing his hand from her shoulder and shooting him a withering stare, Natalie replied calmly, "Well, if what you say is true, I am relieved that Master Eaton does not feel anything for me." Clearing her throat, she struggled past the emotion that had suddenly surfaced at the confirmation that no one, not even Clark, cared for her. "But even though I am presently unable to marry him, my father is still vulnerable to their trickery."
"Maybe. The fact remains that you are, indeed, stranded here on the Cara Mia, unless I decide to..." he narrowed his eyes, for effect, and then forged on with his statement, "Dispose of you, of course."
She immediately turned to face him, grabbing hold of the flimsy, cream colored material of his shirt and raising her eyes to his, which had all the impact of a boot-clad kick to the gut. "Please, sir, you mustn't! I promise to earn my keep if you allow me to stay on here. I'll learn the ways of the sea and I'll be just another one of the crew!"
Leaning in closer, he whispered, "Ah, but the fact remains, love, that you aren't just another one of the crew." Pulling away from her grasp once more, Jack motioned to her and added, "How do you expect to work on a ship looking like that?"
"I--I--I'll find a way, Captain. Please?"
Contorting his rather becoming face in deep thought, he nodded, "I'll consider it. I must go ashore to join me crew, you will stay right here. DO NOT MOVE!" With a sigh, he moved towards the door. "Some of your friends seemed to have extreme difficulty with that rule, in particular."
Smiling, she waited until the door clicked closed before moving towards the window. Looking out at the action in the streets of Tortuga, Natalie grinned, saying, "Stay here? Not bloody well likely!"
* * * *
"Search everywhere!" cried Governor Swann, the fear in his words all but tangible as it rose above the crowded hall, "Bring anything you find immediately to me! I must know where that madman is taking my daughter!"
The people, who had been in that room since sunset the evening before, worked by the first rays of the sun that were peeking over the horizon, scattering about like a gaggle of old hens, each searching for the solution that would bring the young Miss Swann home and deliver them into the governor's favor.
No one investigated with more fervor than the Eatons.
"Father, why, exactly, are we searching for her? Does it even matter anymore?" asked Clark, taking great pains to kneel in such a way that wouldn't dirty his breeches. The way his father had been talking, it would be the last new pair for a long while.
Geoffrey raised his eyes in bitter wonderment of why he was cursed with such a mindless dolt for a son, then continued to push the potted palm aside to check for any clues. "It is because you were engaged that you must participate in the rescue. The man isn't going to hand over his fortune just because you had planned on marrying her!"
"Oh, dear," sighed Elizabeth, slipping her arm through is and leaning her head up against the wall of his chest, relishing the sound of his breathing, the one thing that, at the moment, had remained constant. Looking across the room, she watched as young Clark Eaton searched beneath a table for some hint as to where his love had gone, and her heart broke for him. "I do hope she's alright, Will. She was finally happy, she had finally found her place, and now she's gone."
At his wife's softly spoken words, he placed a reassuring kiss into her fragrant hair, and then rested his chin atop her head. "Darling, there is nothing to worry about. This is Jack Sparrow we're speaking of! Natalie is the perfect medium to pass along his legacy of 'tyranny' on the high seas to land. He wouldn't let anything happen to her. I'm certain of it."
* * * *
"So then, I ran through the armory, with nothing more than a pistol, equipped with two shots and little powder, and the entire French army charging just a hair's breadth behind me!" shouted Jack Sparrow, pausing briefly to take a swig from the jug of rum in front of him, and delighting in the pained expressions of his audience, who seemed anxious to hear the grand finale.
Slamming the glass container down on the table, he suffered their request. "So I shoot behind myself once, killing four soldiers, all lined up one behind the other, and then my last shot...BANG!...it hits a row of powder kegs! As the explosions began, I ran as fast as my legs would carry me to the only exit on the far side, and at the crash of the last detonation I..."
The words died in Jack's mouth, which had gone dry as parchment, as his eyes fell upon Natalie Swann walking into the tavern. No longer was she wearing that enormous dress, but instead, a pair of worn, brown britches fit her lower half to perfection and a billowing, formerly white shirt hung loosely from her frame, dipping down low on one shoulder to reveal her creamy, pale skin. Her hair had been freed from the restrictive knot at the nape of her neck and now hung freely in deep auburn waves down her back.
Mumbling a quick farewell to his very disappointed listeners, he rose from the wobbly wooden chair and hurried over to her side, grabbing hold of her forearm and pulling her out the front door and into the thick of Tortuga vice. Looking side to side for a safe place to keep her, he decided the only area decent enough for the lady on this Godforsaken island would be his ship. And so, he started to pull her to the left, in the direction of the Cara Mia.
Wide-eyed and speechless, Natalie watched in shock as he violently tugged her along, feeling, once again, like a child. Humiliation stung her cheeks as the unwashed miscreants took time out of their busy lives of debauchery to point and laugh at the sight she made, being disciplined by Captain Jack Sparrow.
Regaining her voice, her eyes narrowed as the anger consumed her. "Unhand me now!" she hollered, pulling back to escape his grasp.
"How 'bout no!" he said with a glance back, only tightening his hold on her wrist. This really wasn't fair. Out of all the ships, with all of the captains, in the entire world, why the hell did he get stuck baby-sitting!
Turning up onto the gangway, Jack tossed her on deck, and hopped aboard right after. Trying not to look at the picture she made, rubbing her wrist and looking up at him with blind hatred, he tried to remain calm when he asked, "What did I tell you just before I left, Miss Swann? Huh? Please. I'd like to know, for I must have forgotten!"
With a sigh, she bit back a string of insults in response to his patronizing tone and replied, "You said not to move, but I--."
He cut her off quickly, reiterating his instructions once more for her. "I said NOT TO MOVE! Is there anything in those few words that you find cryptic or confusing in any way!? I'd be thrilled to clarify for you, lass!"
Hopping to her feet, she jumped at him, yelling a reply directly to her face. "I'm frightfully sorry, Mister Sparrow, but I don't relish being told what I can and cannot do! In case you've forgotten, that is precisely why I left!"
"Ah, yes, why you left! Let's dwell on that delightful bit of information for a while, shall we?" he shouted, waving his hands wildly about above his head. "I am placing my crew at great risk by keeping you aboard, missy! Did it ever once occur to you that the incredibly uptight citizens of Port Royale might believe that you were kidnapped? They already know that I am the captain, all they have to do is seek the damn fleet on me now!"
She fell silent at his words, and slowly backed away from him. Raising her chin, she calmly stated, "No, I hadn't thought of that. I wouldn't dream of imposing so I will just stay here in Tortuga. Farewell." And with that, she started for the gangway.
His arm shot out and stopped her from leaving. From beside him, she raised her eyes to his and his stomach did some odd sort of nose dive. Training his eyes to look at the boom directly in front of him, he explained himself. "Norrington will have an even better reason to hang me if I leave you in such a place as this. You will stay with us for the time being, until we decide what to do with you. Savvy?"
Natalie simply nodded and replied, "I thank you for you graciousness, sir."
Dropping his hands from her, he stalked off across the deck. "There really is no need for such formality, Miss. You aren't a member of my crew so you can just call me Jack."
She smiled and walked over to his side, reciprocating his gesture. "Very well. But if I am to call you Jack, then you must call me Natalie." Copying his former utterance she gave a pirate-like growl and said, "Savvy?"
Raising an eyebrow, he struggled to suppress a grin, but feigned little amusement. "Do me a favor, would you? Never do that again. It really doesn't suit you, love." In response, her laughter rang out, clear and strong, and his gut turned over again. Changing the subject, he sent her a wink. "So, Natalie, where exactly did you lose that dress of yours to?"
"Ah, wouldn't you like to know!"
* * * *
It only took Jack the better part of an hour to realize that his decision to keep Natalie on may not have been the wisest. Now that they were out of land's sight and encounters with other ships were few and far between, there was nothing left for him to do but slowly succumb to her all-encompassing presence. Why, he hadn't a chance in Hell of keeping a single thought in his head with her around, let alone run an entire ship!
She was electrifying! Her laughter seemed to forever float upon the cool sea breeze, carrying it to his ears no matter where he was on board. She was always quick to smile and when she did, she was never coquettish or coy about it, just genuine.
And those damned eyes of hers, they were bewitching! The same deep green color of the seas he loved to sail on, and just as mysterious. They sparkled with gold when she was in good spirits, but when she lost her temper, they turned dark, almost black, like the open sky just before a squall. Natalie, with her utter perfection, had the entire crew bamboozled, especially the captain.
In all honesty, he couldn't complain either. It was nice having a woman around, for a change.
Ana Maria had been the only other lady he'd ever sailed with, but she was less a lady than she was just another one of the boys, so, in essence, she didn't really count. She commanded cooperation with threats, and usually it worked because she could flatten each and every crewman on his back, and they all knew it.
Natalie was feminine and lovely, but it seemed to work in the same way, for no one wanted to disappoint her. The food no longer tasted like the sole of an old shoe since she gave Spits some help in the galley and the Cara Mia had never looked tidier than after she hollered at the crew for leaving their belongings all over. All in all, the men were considerably less difficult with her on board, all of them trying to get a grin or a few words from her so they could go brag about it to the rest.
It was going to be hell getting rid of her, thought Jack, shaking his head as he looked out over the sea. Suddenly, a few shouts from the aft found their way to his ears and he stormed off to see what was going on. The men were all gathered in a huge heap at the base of the second mast, their eyes all trained upwards. He followed their line of sight and his heart died with a thud in his chest at what he saw.
Apparently, Natalie had lost her mind, for she was halfway up the cargo net that led to the crows nest, the highest point of the ship. "Move...now!" Jack shouted pushing his way through the crowd. It was all he could do to just look up in awe, completely petrified for her. "Natalie!" he yelled, "Get down from there, will you!"
She heard him calling her, but she refused to stop. Not when she was this close to reaching the top! She was on a pirate ship, why not do the most dangerous and unladylike thing on board. With a grin, she continued her climb.
He stood there, slack jawed, as she simply ignored his command and kept on going. Driven by the fear and anger that coursed through his veins at the mere sight of her, he quickly dropped his belt and hat and scrambled up the net after her.
Natalie felt the extra weight drag down the bottom of the netting and heard him grumbling profanities that she had never even heard of until that moment, and hastened her ascent. With each hand-hand-foot-foot bound, she came just a little bit closer to sitting on top of the world, and she wasn't about to let anyone, not even Captain Jack Sparrow, stop her!
* * * *
"Elizabeth, you must stay here. Your sister is already in enough danger, and it would be impossible for me to devote myself entirely to her rescue if I must worry about you as well," Governor Swann said with a small smile, patting her on the head before calling a "Farewell" and walking up the gangway onto the Dauntless.
She bit back a string of rather impolite speech and balled her fists at her sides. Even marriage couldn't bring her into adulthood in her father's eyes! Putting her anger on hold for a moment, she reached out for Commodore Norrington's sleeve as he passed by. He turned to face her and smiled, "Hello, Elizabeth! You look lovely this evening, despite all that has happened."
"Why thank you, James," she replied with a smile, her mind searching for a similar compliment. Motioning to his uniform, she burst out with, "Um, blue suits you. Fabulous shade, if I may say so."
The puzzled look he sent her was enough to inspire her to end her flattery. "James, I need to come with you. I simply cannot wait here and do nothing. She's my sister."
With a sigh, he shook his head. "Darling, you know I cannot. Your father--."
"My father is governor, yes, but you are the very pinnacle of the British Navy! Override his decision! William and myself, we have sailed with Captain Sparrow before, we could be of use!" she said with fervor. Raising her eyes to his she pleaded with him, "Please, James. For me?"
With a sigh, he threw his hand in the direction of the gangway, and said blandly, "After you, Miss Turner." Simply nodding as she rejoiced and her husband smiled at him, he inwardly cursed himself for his weakness, and followed them up. "Make ready the vessel, gents, we sail!"
* * * *
Natalie swung her leg over the side of the railing and backed up until she was flush against the mast and sighed. The jolly roger fluttered proudly in the breeze above her head, drowning out the sounds of everything else on the deck below. Looking out over the sea, it looked as smooth as fine silk, coating everything beneath her with its beauty. The sun was just starting to sink below the horizon, painting the sky with every color imaginable.
Jack, now very dizzy from the exertion and the excess of rum he had ingested that afternoon, lifted himself over the banister and into the crow's nest with her. He opened his mouth, prepared to lambaste her for driving him completely insane, but froze at the sight of her. She stood there, pinned up against the mast with a bemused smile gazing out at the miles and miles of open ocean.
He remembered his first time up there. It took a crew of seventy's insults and a good hour or so to get him to brave the climb, but once he landed in that basket, he never wanted to leave. There was no good or evil up there, no right or wrong, no strength or weakness. It was just a sailor and the whole world, with no interruptions.
"Natalie," he began, knowing he had to get her down from there eventually, but she turned to him, the sunset reflected in her eyes and its dying rays turning her hair to russet as it floated on the sea air, and laid a hand across his mouth.
"Shhh," she whispered, "Not now." Grabbing hold of his hand, she pulled him over to her small side of the crow's nest and leaned back against him, wrapping his arms around her. Together, they simply stood there and watched the sun take its leave, neither one speaking.
When just a sliver of the day star remained visible, they wordlessly broke apart and started down the net again, him first with her following ahead. The men cheered as her bare feet hit the oaken boards of the deck, and in response, she smiled but moved past them to the very front of the ship.
Jack nodded to the men who patted him on the back for getting her down, but his mind was elsewhere. Something was happening. Something that was much bigger than he'd ever anticipated, and now he had to figure out what he was going to do about it.
* * * *
Geoffrey Eaton was up to his clear, blue eyeballs in trouble, and was still sinking.
His son sat in the wingback chair at the far corner of their cabin on board the Dauntless, inspecting his fingernails for any sign of filth and periodically raising his eyes to his father in wonderment that the fine, Axminster carpet wasn't showing signs of wear after all of the pacing the older man had been doing. Why, the mere rate of his gait was enough to inspire dizziness!
With an exasperated sigh, Clark soon abandoned his vow of silence and said, "Oh, will you have a seat already, Father? Between your unending treading and this rickety old boat swaying so, I just might relieve myself of my lunch!" Leaning back in the red leather chair, he massaged his forehead and closed his eyes, trying to imagine himself on dry land.
His jaw hanging open like that of a dead fish, Geoffrey halted and simply stared at his son in complete astonishment, practically speechless. "What are you about!?" he shouted, waving his hands wildly above his head. "Sometimes I think that you and I simply aren't sharing the same universe! How can you not comprehend what is going on here!?"
"You are too stressed, my good man," Clark said, his tone expressing how obvious he found the problem to be, "All you do is scheme and fret when you should be enjoying all that the world has to offer...like I do." Crossing one leg over the other, he pulled out a cheroot and inhaled deeply before lighting one end and calmly puffing away on it.
The man's eyes widened to the size of bread plates as he stormed over to his son. Looming over him, he locked his boy into the chair by leaning on both arms so he would be sure to hear. "You insufferable TWIT! Of course I am stressed!" He brandished the smoking cigar after snatching it from a very surprised Clark and whispered fiercely, "I cannot 'enjoy all that the world has to offer' because that costs MONEY, and without my 'scheming and fretting', you wouldn't be able to either!"
Geoffrey fought the urge to jump for joy when his son did nothing but blink in response, so he continued to vent his frustrations. "You, my dear boy, should be fretting as well because not only do we have a decided lack of funds and pirates after us, but now we also have to conceal these facts from the governor, the commodore, and a whole lot of soldiers, who, just in case you have forgotten, WE ARE TRAPPED IN THE MIDDLE OF THE OCEAN WITH!"
Clark blinked once more, swallowing past the lump in his throat before self-consciously muttering, "Oh."
"Yes, 'oh'," he said matter-of-factly, turning quickly on his heel and stalking out of the dimly lit cabin and up to the main deck, into the all engulfing blackness of night.
* * * *
Jack stood at his watch, looking out at the world, beneath its veil of darkness, simply adorned with the full moon and her many stars, with unseeing eyes. Funny, he'd always relished his time as lookout; he even found it peaceful on occasion. But that was before today. Frustrated, he called out to the nearest sailor to take the wheel from him and made his way up to the quarter deck to be alone.
Sliding his calloused hand over the smooth, wooden banister, he inhaled deeply, taking the balmy sea air into his lungs in an effort to calm himself. But despite the quiet lull of the whitecaps against the keel and the stillness of his surroundings, Natalie was on his mind, as she had been for the past three days, and there wasn't much of a chance that his thoughts of her would go away any time soon.
He had no idea when it happened, how or even why, but Jack no longer thought of her as that bonny miss who had taken up residence on his ship quite unexpectedly. She had now become that bonny miss who had taken up residence in his heart quite unexpectedly.
Sure, she was lovely, but he had bedded some of the most beautiful lasses in the world, some who even physically surpassed her charms. Natalie was smart too, but so were most people he'd come across in his travels in comparison to himself. She was fiery, but Anna Maria was more so, and he could hardly tolerate that woman!
The buccaneer had been through his thoughts time and time again, searching for a logical reason, and, in turn, a cure for his ailment, but it was all for naught. Jack was still just as unaware of the answer as he had been at the beginning.
With a moan, he leaned over the railing, raking his fingers through his long, tangled hair and asked, "Oh, why me!?"
"Is something amiss?"
The softly spoken inquiry drove him from his sorry state, and his head snapped up in response. Sending a biting look skyward as a rather acerbic sign of thanks for his God awful timing, Jack straightened up and spun about. He knew precisely who he was going to find standing there, and so he mentally prepared himself for the fallout.
Still, the wind was all but knocked from his lungs as his eyes careened into the beautiful picture Natalie made, bathed in pale moonlight with her glossy tresses aloft in the mild sea air. It was all Jack could do to simply stand there and stare at her, his brow furrowed as all manner of thought and feeling coursed through him.
"Jack?"
The concern in her utterance that was also reflected in her eyes drew him from his thoughts and into the realization that she was, indeed, speaking to him and did require an answer, preferably some time in the near future.
With a quick twitch of his mustache into a reassuring grin, he soon fell back into confusion, forgetting what she had even asked in the first place. "Hum?"
Moving towards him, she raised an eyebrow in quiet inspection. "Are you foxed?"
That was a fair assumption. Raising a hand in front of his mouth, he exhaled a few times and quickly sniffed the air for any sign of alcohol. Shaking his head, he replied, "Unfortunately, no."
Natalie rolled her eyes at his response, fighting to hold back a smile in fear of encouraging the man, and moved past him to the rail. Gazing out into the endless night, she rested her hands on the sea-sprayed, weathered wood and sighed at the beauty of it all, wishing she could stay there forever. With him.
"So, what brings you here at this hour?" he asked softly, coming up beside her, "Couldn't sleep?"
Nodding, she elaborated. "I have a lot on my mind, it seems." Realization dawning on her, she asked, "Am I bothering you by being here?" Natalie fixed her eyes on the breaking waves below them, avoiding those of the man who had occupied her thoughts for hours on end. Softly, she added, "If you want me to leave, I'll understand."
"Nothing could be further from what I want, love." It was only after he made that bold statement that he wished he wouldn't think out loud all the time. It was obvious that she had caught hold of his words, for those eyes of hers rushed to his.
With a humorless laugh, he struggled to ease the tension he'd created with a joke. Leaning over, he whispered in her ear, "I must admit, your company is a refreshing change from the scalawags I usually share me watch with."
Natalie chuckled softly at his comment, but the thrill of experiencing the warmth of his lips against the cool, exposed column of her neck, had quickly taken over her senses.
She knew he was still hovering beside her for she could still feel his slow, even breathing as it met her skin. Slowly, she turned her head and found herself scant inches from his, which set her pulse to racing.
Her eyes narrowed in concentration as they roved over his features, memorizing him as a harmonious mixture of shadow and moonlight. At first glance, the captain was simply filthy and bizarre looking, but as she stood there, peering up at him, all she could find was a strange sort of perfection.
He had a rather regal air about him, his cheek bones, high, and his nose, strong and proud, in spite of his involvement in many a fist fight which he had alluded to in the past. Wordlessly, she raised her hand to his cheek, moving her fingers leisurely across his skin which bore the coloring of the sun and the moisture of the sea.
Jack's gaze flew to her hand, wondering if she was preparing to soundly slap him. Much to his relief, she didn't strike, but the feelings that surfaced as a result of her silent exploration were enough to make him wish she had. At least he knew how to deal with blind hatred.
She watched as his down set stare moved to hers. The captain really did have beautiful eyes. The color of fine brandy and rimmed in black kohl to keep the sun out, they glistened beneath the muted glow of the night sky, not once straying from hers.
The seconds they had spent standing there soon felt like an eternity, when someone started to approach. She had no idea who moved first, nor did she care at the moment. Her eye lids fluttered to a close and she lifted her chin to receive what she had been waiting her whole life for...
In his entire career of piracy, with all of the trappings of murdering, pillaging, and debauchery, Jack couldn't recall ever being more scared than he was at that moment, closing in on Natalie.
With a silent prayer to any and every god or goddess he had ever learned of throughout his many exploits in his lifetime, he swiftly closed the distance between them, capturing her lips beneath his...
* * * *