Dark Lady-Chapter Six
Title: Dark Lady
Chapter Six: Dream Brew
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Characters: Jack, The Dark Lady (OFC, sort of, more on this in the note), Tia Dalma. Stir well and serve immediately in salt-rimmed glasses..
Disclaimers: I make no claim on any of this. Disney owns all rights. I just loot and plunder. (Remember, Pillage, then Burn!)
Rating: PG-13 to R (this chapter-PG-13)
Notes: The plotbunny comes from
compassrose7577, in a conversation we had over my witching hour fic “Song of the Black Pearl.” It just hit me and the rest as we say is history. Now, there is a lady in this fic, and no, her name is not Elizabeth Swann. For those of you concerned, she is neither an OC nor a Mary-Sue. So read on, gentlepirates and meet the Dark Lady.
This chapter: Jack dreams dark dreams and Tia tells him things he doesn't want to hear.
Back to Chapter Five.
*--------------------------------------*
Jack thought that his feet shouldn’t be wet. He’d fallen asleep in his bunk with his Pearl curled up against his side, warm and sweet. Yes, feet should not be wet. With a groan, he dragged his eyes open.
He immediately wished they were still closed. The ocean stretched out all around him, marred only by tiny wavelets that rippled out from where he stood, ankle-deep in the brine. The sky overhead was a leaden gray, promising more storms.
“Wot?” He flailed, but the water was a solid support.
“Bout time you woke up, clever Jack. Tia been waitin’ long time.”
“Ah, Tia, luv. To wot do I owe the dubious honor, privilege and distinction of yer revered and rather damp presence?”
Jack turned to see Tia sitting at ease on the water’s surface, her tattered skirts pooling around her. It was downright unnerving-like how the edges of her dress shimmered and melted into the water. “ ‘Ello, my canny Jack. You took long ‘nough t’walk de dream-waters wit’ me. Is you dream so satisfyin,’ den? She warm an’ willin’ in you arms?”
Jack narrowed his eyes. “And wot precisely is yer plot, Tia? Ye never give nothin’ ‘way iffen ye can help it.”
“Him never heard of altruism, den?” Tia’s changeable eyes reflected the stormy sky as she grinned mockingly at him through blackened teeth.
“No.”
Suddenly she was behind him, strong and clammy fingers holding his chin firmly. “De sea, she is de ultimate woman, clever Jack. She be moody one moment and as giving as a mother in de next. You do well t’member dat.”
She was pressed against his front and her appearance changed. Now she was a woman-form of living water. Her voice was the hush of the waves. “She give all t’dose who love her more den life. But you not one o’dem, is you, canny Jack?”
Those fingers of living water plucked something from his coat and held it out so faded colors caught the gray half-light. The circular piece of map wavered in her grip. “Him seekin’ de ‘Aqua de Vida’ for life neverendin,’ den? Why? You had de chance t’sail me waters forever as captain o’me Dutchman.”
Jack remembered the moment of indecision before he had wrapped Will’s dying fingers around the haft of his broken cutlass. “Aye, right ‘nough. But ye said yerself that Will does his job well and truly.”
“Him does. Him not let him livin’ heart b’come like me first capt’n did. Beat it did, but lifeless it were.” Suddenly she was Tia again and whirled away from him, dark shoulders bowed under the weight of the ocean. “I were fool t’trust dat he would not betray me when I didn’ come dat day.
“I not make dat mistake ‘gain, clever Jack!” Dark eyes froze him in place. “You want de waters o’life, den you ‘member t’who you loyalty lie.”
“So hypothetical-like, ye know where the water is?” Jack tried not to let his speculation show.
“Am I not de oceans, den? All waters come t’me, sooner or late. Tia knows where it can be found.” She turned and gave him a shark’s grin of black teeth and blacker humor. “Don’ think I be givin’ it ‘way, though. My mark on you, canny Jack.”
Jack fingered the thin strand of braided hair on his wrist. “Aye. An’ the bloody thing t’wont come off!”
She smirked again. “An’ it never will.” Quick as lightning, she was right in his face again. “Dis mark you as mine. You belong t’de seas now.”
Jack snarled at her. “An’ that t’were a right horrid trick ye played on me! Wot the hell was that all ‘bout?”
“You not listen to what I tell you. You not go far less I tells you so.”
“Wot does that bit o’wisdom mean?” Jack scowled at the sea goddess.
“What it means, clever one, is dat you not go far ashore. You stay way from de water too long and you so sick you not be able t’move. Not a pleasant fate, is dat?”
“An’ whyfor are ye doin’ this t’me onesies, yer wet-worshipfulness?”
“A reminder, me clever Jack. Him what belong t’de sea will always belong t’de sea, make no doubts bout dat.” She settled down on a form of water that rose behind her, folding her hands primly in her lap.
“De seas be calm come de mornin’ tide, Jack. You sail wit’ de tide. Give me de compass you barter from me all dat time ago.” She held out one hand.
Jack found the compass tied to his sash, though he was relatively certain he’d been lying in a state of undress with his Pearl in his bunk. Scowling, he handed it over to her.
Tia held it for a moment before handing it back. “Dis show you de new headin’ you follow.”
Jack grimaced as he realized the needle no longer swung to his desire. “Ye broke it!”
“I made it. For now it show you de way you must go. P’haps later it go back t’de way it were b’fore.”
“And wot is it ye have planned fer me an’ mine?”
Suddenly her eyes were inky pools and Jack felt a shiver of atavistic fear crawl up his spine. “Dere is a storm brewin,’ Jack Sparrow, an’ it not one of my makin.’ Dere is more trouble dat lies ahead. You Pearl, she knows it. Dat why she make her bargain wit’ me an’ why I make me gift t’her. You will need her brave heart an’ hands come de storm.”
Suddenly she was beside him again. Her eyes were as they had always been before she had been freed; dark, weary and a little sad. She reached up to touch his cheek. “Dere is darkness come and it not of my brewin.’ You follow you headin’ now. Ol’ Tia has more t’do. I come back soon. Dere are things I must do, souls I must find an’ plots t’unravel b’fore it too late for all dat.” Suddenly she seemed all too human again as she offered him a world-weary smile. “You braved de weird an haunted shoals beyond de worlds end t’come back. Dis will be far worse.”
*------------------*
Jack woke with a start, unsurprised to find he was still in his bunk. The bed beside him was empty, but the scent of seawind and spice still clung to his skin. He glanced out the window to find the clouds had broken up during the night and the moon hung low over the waves. It lacked only an hour or two to dawn. He picked up his compass and found that the needle stayed constant, pointing towards wherever it was Calypso wanted him to go.
A ghost shiver crawled up his back again. “…Dis will be far worse.” Tia’s voice whispered in the stillness of the cabin and Jack felt true fear for perhaps the third time in his life.
On to Chapter Seven.
Chapter Six: Dream Brew
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Characters: Jack, The Dark Lady (OFC, sort of, more on this in the note), Tia Dalma. Stir well and serve immediately in salt-rimmed glasses..
Disclaimers: I make no claim on any of this. Disney owns all rights. I just loot and plunder. (Remember, Pillage, then Burn!)
Rating: PG-13 to R (this chapter-PG-13)
Notes: The plotbunny comes from
compassrose7577, in a conversation we had over my witching hour fic “Song of the Black Pearl.” It just hit me and the rest as we say is history. Now, there is a lady in this fic, and no, her name is not Elizabeth Swann. For those of you concerned, she is neither an OC nor a Mary-Sue. So read on, gentlepirates and meet the Dark Lady.
This chapter: Jack dreams dark dreams and Tia tells him things he doesn't want to hear.
Back to Chapter Five.
*--------------------------------------*
Jack thought that his feet shouldn’t be wet. He’d fallen asleep in his bunk with his Pearl curled up against his side, warm and sweet. Yes, feet should not be wet. With a groan, he dragged his eyes open.
He immediately wished they were still closed. The ocean stretched out all around him, marred only by tiny wavelets that rippled out from where he stood, ankle-deep in the brine. The sky overhead was a leaden gray, promising more storms.
“Wot?” He flailed, but the water was a solid support.
“Bout time you woke up, clever Jack. Tia been waitin’ long time.”
“Ah, Tia, luv. To wot do I owe the dubious honor, privilege and distinction of yer revered and rather damp presence?”
Jack turned to see Tia sitting at ease on the water’s surface, her tattered skirts pooling around her. It was downright unnerving-like how the edges of her dress shimmered and melted into the water. “ ‘Ello, my canny Jack. You took long ‘nough t’walk de dream-waters wit’ me. Is you dream so satisfyin,’ den? She warm an’ willin’ in you arms?”
Jack narrowed his eyes. “And wot precisely is yer plot, Tia? Ye never give nothin’ ‘way iffen ye can help it.”
“Him never heard of altruism, den?” Tia’s changeable eyes reflected the stormy sky as she grinned mockingly at him through blackened teeth.
“No.”
Suddenly she was behind him, strong and clammy fingers holding his chin firmly. “De sea, she is de ultimate woman, clever Jack. She be moody one moment and as giving as a mother in de next. You do well t’member dat.”
She was pressed against his front and her appearance changed. Now she was a woman-form of living water. Her voice was the hush of the waves. “She give all t’dose who love her more den life. But you not one o’dem, is you, canny Jack?”
Those fingers of living water plucked something from his coat and held it out so faded colors caught the gray half-light. The circular piece of map wavered in her grip. “Him seekin’ de ‘Aqua de Vida’ for life neverendin,’ den? Why? You had de chance t’sail me waters forever as captain o’me Dutchman.”
Jack remembered the moment of indecision before he had wrapped Will’s dying fingers around the haft of his broken cutlass. “Aye, right ‘nough. But ye said yerself that Will does his job well and truly.”
“Him does. Him not let him livin’ heart b’come like me first capt’n did. Beat it did, but lifeless it were.” Suddenly she was Tia again and whirled away from him, dark shoulders bowed under the weight of the ocean. “I were fool t’trust dat he would not betray me when I didn’ come dat day.
“I not make dat mistake ‘gain, clever Jack!” Dark eyes froze him in place. “You want de waters o’life, den you ‘member t’who you loyalty lie.”
“So hypothetical-like, ye know where the water is?” Jack tried not to let his speculation show.
“Am I not de oceans, den? All waters come t’me, sooner or late. Tia knows where it can be found.” She turned and gave him a shark’s grin of black teeth and blacker humor. “Don’ think I be givin’ it ‘way, though. My mark on you, canny Jack.”
Jack fingered the thin strand of braided hair on his wrist. “Aye. An’ the bloody thing t’wont come off!”
She smirked again. “An’ it never will.” Quick as lightning, she was right in his face again. “Dis mark you as mine. You belong t’de seas now.”
Jack snarled at her. “An’ that t’were a right horrid trick ye played on me! Wot the hell was that all ‘bout?”
“You not listen to what I tell you. You not go far less I tells you so.”
“Wot does that bit o’wisdom mean?” Jack scowled at the sea goddess.
“What it means, clever one, is dat you not go far ashore. You stay way from de water too long and you so sick you not be able t’move. Not a pleasant fate, is dat?”
“An’ whyfor are ye doin’ this t’me onesies, yer wet-worshipfulness?”
“A reminder, me clever Jack. Him what belong t’de sea will always belong t’de sea, make no doubts bout dat.” She settled down on a form of water that rose behind her, folding her hands primly in her lap.
“De seas be calm come de mornin’ tide, Jack. You sail wit’ de tide. Give me de compass you barter from me all dat time ago.” She held out one hand.
Jack found the compass tied to his sash, though he was relatively certain he’d been lying in a state of undress with his Pearl in his bunk. Scowling, he handed it over to her.
Tia held it for a moment before handing it back. “Dis show you de new headin’ you follow.”
Jack grimaced as he realized the needle no longer swung to his desire. “Ye broke it!”
“I made it. For now it show you de way you must go. P’haps later it go back t’de way it were b’fore.”
“And wot is it ye have planned fer me an’ mine?”
Suddenly her eyes were inky pools and Jack felt a shiver of atavistic fear crawl up his spine. “Dere is a storm brewin,’ Jack Sparrow, an’ it not one of my makin.’ Dere is more trouble dat lies ahead. You Pearl, she knows it. Dat why she make her bargain wit’ me an’ why I make me gift t’her. You will need her brave heart an’ hands come de storm.”
Suddenly she was beside him again. Her eyes were as they had always been before she had been freed; dark, weary and a little sad. She reached up to touch his cheek. “Dere is darkness come and it not of my brewin.’ You follow you headin’ now. Ol’ Tia has more t’do. I come back soon. Dere are things I must do, souls I must find an’ plots t’unravel b’fore it too late for all dat.” Suddenly she seemed all too human again as she offered him a world-weary smile. “You braved de weird an haunted shoals beyond de worlds end t’come back. Dis will be far worse.”
*------------------*
Jack woke with a start, unsurprised to find he was still in his bunk. The bed beside him was empty, but the scent of seawind and spice still clung to his skin. He glanced out the window to find the clouds had broken up during the night and the moon hung low over the waves. It lacked only an hour or two to dawn. He picked up his compass and found that the needle stayed constant, pointing towards wherever it was Calypso wanted him to go.
A ghost shiver crawled up his back again. “…Dis will be far worse.” Tia’s voice whispered in the stillness of the cabin and Jack felt true fear for perhaps the third time in his life.
On to Chapter Seven.