Esprit de Corps
Title: Pirates of the Caribbean IV: Esprit de Corps
Author: stealmybike
Pairing: Jack/Isabella, Pintel, Ragetti
Rating: Adventure/Humor/Romance
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything other than a vivid imagination.
A/N: Chapter 15 finally complete! Isabella finally prepares to fight her demons and lets go of her past love.
For all those with an FF.net you can find this chapter: here
Reviews are welcomed and appreciated :)
Chapter 15 - More than Meets the Eye
She rubbed her throbbing back, unable to believe that she had found herself in such a situation.
‘I don’t think you should try it again…’ Moore cautioned, lifting his feet up on a pair of old soggy, crates while leaning back to casually rest his head on his arms. He raised his brow at her, taking the time to look into her eyes; he gave her a stern yet comical gaze that clearly implied, ‘you should know better.’
‘Why, I reckon she should give it another go, what’s it been … five times?’ Ragetti pointed out.
‘Yeh can’t possibly hurt your arse mo’ than yeh already ‘ave!’ Confirmed the giggling Pintel, who found her situation to be quite amusing. Indeed, he snorted with delight.
Isabella pulled at the strings of her hammock, manipulating their loose edges between her long fingers. She studied the hammock’s intricate string work, she pouted as she turned her attention to the small group of men who still were awake to help her get into it in the first place. If it weren’t for them, she’d probably be sleeping on a very unpalatable floor, alongside a wide array of crawling stowaways from the sea.
Pintel lifted his brow to her, simultaneously lifting his chin along with it, urging her to try once more.
‘All right,’ she sighed, extending the hammock with her hands, allowing her enough space to sit comfortably, ‘get ready for another laugh, gents.’
She stumbled a bit, cautiously trying to lift her leg into the hammock for leverage, yet getting a contradictory result from her efforts. Whether it was the Hellride’s constant sway or her sheer lack of balance, Isabella found herself tumbling out of her hammock once more.
Its frail ends twisting vigorously, causing it to wrap around her body for a slight moment, then abruptly releasing her from the large opening that she had inadvertently created as she fanned out her arms, attempting to stop the spinning. She anticipated the pain of the hard wooden floor as she came crashing down, yet she never met it. Instead, she landed onto a softer and more inviting place, the arms of her valiant lieutenant, James Moore.
‘You’re hopeless, I hope you know that.’ he teased, lifting her up with undeniable ease.
‘I almost had it!’ she retorted, trying to not seem so helpless in the eyes of those around her.
‘Right - just like you “had it” the other five times?’ He smirked, narrowing his brow; his furrow developed distinctly in between his fair, auburn eyebrows.
‘Well, Mr. I Sleep on Soggy Crates! Why don’t you give it a try?’ she retorted slyly, hitting him in the chest, causing him to relinquish his hold on her.
He gulped, clearly hesitant at his General’s challenge.
‘That’s what I thought!’ she stated, folding her arms. ‘Now will one of you be a gentleman and kindly lift me into this bloody thing?’
A wide range of hands shot up in the air.
‘Men…’ She sighed.
------------------------
She lay awake for most of the night, finally beginning to settle into her hammock, but still not used to the unstable sack - preferring a solid bed more than anything. She brought her hands behind her head, interlocking her hands as one, tangling the tresses of her greasy hair between the webbing of her long fingers. She leisurely crossed her right leg over her left, flinching at the sudden bursts of movement from the dangling net-like cage.
She shut her eyes for a few moments, inhaling warm air that clouded the berth deck; her ears bore witness to heavy-hearted snores from yet another group of men - reinforcing distant and painful memories, taunting them to haunt her thoughts once more. She inhaled profoundly, letting her rib cage rise to its fullest capacity but didn’t proceed to exhale. She held it in, feeling heavy weight grow within her - a weight she could not reach out far enough to lift away. Rather she lay helpless, turning her head every few moments to scan the dimly lit room; letting her thoughts wander to the men she’d spent over an eternity to raise. She was a mother to each and every one of them, figuratively speaking. The pain and suffering of her own demise no longer fazed her, but the thought of losing one of them by her own doing, knotted her insides to the brink of agony.
‘If you could see them now, Alastair … you’d be so proud,’ she thought, finally releasing the air from her yearning lungs, eagerly taking in another.
‘You would have been right proud of your son, Nathaniel, his son Jarvis, and Jarvis’ son Marcus …’ she continued. She spoke to him softly within her thoughts, as she had done every evening after secretly enjoying each other’s flesh and physicality. In her mind it was as if he were still present before her, shielding himself from her gaze like a lover in disguise.
She turned her attention to her slumbering lieutenant, James Moore - the valiant descendent of the man she had once loved. She watched him sleep for a moment, eyeing his atypical slouching posture. She watched as his rising rib cage invited the warm evening air into his lungs, letting our small snorts as he shifted himself periodically on the uncomfortable pile of old crates.
‘James ...’ she began, ‘he’s just like you, you know? As much as I tell him he’s not … he really is a spitting imagine of you … he’s got your eyes.’ She smiled, thinking of the man who had held her in his arms that very evening. ‘You’d be right proud.’
Her smile subsided. She sighed softly, realizing that she had spent the last four hundred years surrounded by the offspring of men who had saved her from an eternity of confinement. To her left lay Lieutenant Jordan, descendant of Alastair’s uncle, Baxter. He slept amongst his four brothers - Brodie, Jerome, Camron, and Murphy - all dedicated and skilled sword fighters.
To her right slept the five lone descendents of Ramsy Sinclair, the man who bunked with Baxter and assisted in creating the underground passageway. She thought of the oath she swore to those six men that faithful night, amongst the dark, long-stemmed grasses of the calm English meadow - an oath that Alastair believed would save her from the scrupulous eyes of the notorious convicts. He was right, like he always was. She swore an oath of honor; an oath she passionately held onto it ever since, never faltering. She was a woman of her word and the Gods could not take that away from her, no matter how hard they tried to subdue her fury.
‘Was it right for me to condemn these men to a lifetime of conflict for my own cause?’
She looked around the room again; dim candlelight caressed the features of the slumbering men beside her as the darkness of night devoured their distinctness. She felt a heavy weight becoming present on her heart; she never thought this day would finally come, and now she must face the fact that she must fight her demons.
‘I don’t believe so anymore …’ she confirmed. Yet she had no other alternative.
‘I feel like I’ve held onto you for an eternity,’ she sighed.
‘Would you have let me go by now?’ She inquired, hoping to hear the slightest inclination of what path she should take.
She received no response.
‘Or do I have to let go?’ She opened her eyes slowly, narrowing her brow as she ran her fingers through her hair. She let her thoughts wander to Jack for a moment; his swagger and sway, sense of adventure, curiosity, and most of all his freedom. He ignited an unrelenting flame within her soul, one that had not been lit for centuries and it felt good.
‘You’ve cursed me, Alastair,’ she concluded, ‘You’ve cursed my heart and I was a fool to let you do so.’ She smirked, marveling at how one soul had completely taken her for so many years.
‘Will you let someone else have a chance?’ She bit her lip, ‘Would you think of me any different?’
‘Let me go …’ she pleaded, closing her eyes once more. ‘Let me go,’ she whispered aloud before falling into a very shallow daze.
------------------------
The soles of his boots traveled down the ship’s rickety stairs carefully, as to not awaken the rest of the crew. As he entered the threshold below decks he held a large pierced tin lantern over his head, its amber lighting flooded through its front glass pane onto his features, highlighting his high cheekbones and deepening the intensity of his kohl lined eyes. His ring clad hand glimmered in the presence of the lantern’s fiery glow, relinquishing diminutive bursts of light. His hands alone created life within the barren surroundings below deck.
He scanned the room earnestly, trying to peer over what seemed like countless bodies to find whom he was really searching for.
He cleared his throat, loud enough to startle the lightest of sleepers.
Her eyes shot open, just as he anticipated.
‘Bella?’ Jack whispered, with all the subtleness he could possibly possess, continuing down the few remaining steps, inadvertently stumbling over several of his crewman as he made his way over to her.
‘Jack?’ she whispered, curling her lip in sheer astonishment. ‘What are you doing-’
He held a finger to his lips, raising his brow at her, a sly smirk rose from the corner of his mouth. He patted his hand on a draped piece of fabric over his shoulder, ‘Thought I’d forget didn’t you?’ he inquired, rather triumphantly.
She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest, ‘It’s about time.’
He raised another hand, urging her to follow him up the stairs from which he came.
‘I can’t…’ She looked down at the ground. ‘I’m stuck …’
He didn’t understand.
‘You don’t know how long it took me to get in this thing!’ She whispered hoarsely.
‘Shush!’ he urged, rolling his eyes. He let his lips part just slightly, causing small flickers of light to reflect off his gold teeth.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she argued, grabbing onto the pole from which the hammock was hung. She lifted her body up as best she could, being sure not to cause a series of unwanted commotions.
She peered under her bed to retrieve the bottle of brandy she had taken earlier in the evening, but as she reached down into darkness, she found nothing.
She looked around the room, somewhat confused, ‘Where the blazes … Oh!’ Her search had come to an end at the slightly portly fellow who held the bottle close to his chest.
‘Seems as though Mr. Mullroy enjoys a good brandy!’ She thought, amused by the sight of Mr. Mullroy cradling the bottle of brandy like a newborn child.
She crept up beside him, squatting at his side, and began her work to free the bottle out of his grasp. She grabbed it by the top as she curled her tongue to the outside of her lip. She slowly began tilting it back and forth, smiling as it moved up his chest. He snorted, fidgeting a bit from the motion but then quickly fell back to sleep.
‘Phew!’ she whispered, continuing her work until the bottle found its way out of Mullroy’s clutches.
She lifted herself up from her squat, and tried to make her way up the stairs as quickly as she could.
She was greeted by the cool evening breeze as she stepped through the threshold onto the deck.
She took a few steps forward into the darkness, noticing that Jack had taken the time to blow out all the lamps on the ship.
‘There you are!’ She was greeted by a very impatient Captain.
‘I’ve got to show you something! Time is of the essence, darling. So, if you’d kindly move your arse, I’d be much obliged,’ he stated, blowing out his lantern while making his way up to the quarterdeck in perpetual darkness.
She followed him up the stairs eagerly with both of her calloused hands gripping the rail; unsure of what Jack would want to show her at this time of night. She turned her head profusely, trying to decipher any inclination of something that could be chasing after them, yet she saw nothing. The only signs of life were heard in gusts of wind being trapped within their white sails, and the creak of the dark, shadowy Pearl eerily creeping up behind them ever so slowly.
His shadowy presence stood beside the helm; he held his hands behind his back as he tilted his head back to look up at the sky, his gaze unwavering as she cautiously approached him. She reached out to the wheel, gripping the pegs lightly as she stood to face him.
‘What’s going on?’ she inquired, softly.
He grabbed her shoulders and gently turned her around, facing her back to his chest. He let his hand graze her neck as he hooked his fingers beneath her chin, raising her face up to the sky.
A celestial event was taking place before their eyes, small fragments of light radiated from one point in the dark abyss. These small fragments of cosmic debris punctured the sky before them at what seemed like an extremely high speed, only to vaporize soon after, leaving streaks of light that quickly disappeared after only a few moments.
‘What is it?’ She asked in a voice that was lower than a whisper as she tilted her head back a bit to address him. Yet she did not let her eyes waver from the sight.
‘Not really sure. This is the first time I’ve seen it meself.’
She smiled, marveling at the unobtainable forces of light above her, a warm feeling grew within her; it was truly miraculous to gaze upon something so unexplainable.
‘I’ve seen something like it,’ he continued, ‘…years ago when I was a boy, but it was just one. It was rather breathtaking.’ He raised an arm to her shoulder and another to the sky. ‘In the eyes of any other man, it appeared to be unnatural and ghostly … but I could not help but be in awe at its beauty.’ he whispered in her ear.
He tilted his head down, finally, to look at his star gazing companion. He gently took her arms, grazing his fingers along the length of them until he reached her small wrists. He placed her hands on the smooth pegs of the wheel. He could feel her pulse quicken in his grasp yet he did not falter. She tilted her head down as well, and looked out before her toward the endless darkness that waited their arrival.
‘Do you still wish to learn how to man the helm? Or would you rather-’
She titled her head up again, lightly resting her scalp on his chest. ‘They look like little tear drops, don’t they, Jack?’ She interrupted, truly fascinated by the sight. He grew a bit disappointed, it was not every day that a Captain could bestow few bits and pieces of knowledge on one who truly wished to learn. But given the circumstances, tear drops and all, he decided to save his lesson for another day.
He stepped back, taking the small blanket off of his shoulder, placing it down along the cool deck, just a few feet behind the wheel. He plopped himself down upon it, crossing his legs while propping himself up on his elbows.
She half-turned, slowly to find Jack, lying back as he once had in her distant memories. She bit her lip, feeling small bursts of the evening breeze kiss the apples of her cheeks. She tightened her grasp on the pegs a bit further as uneasy thoughts entered her mind. Her hands grew damp as she began to feel out of breath, her heart beating rapidly; she was unnaturally nervous, yet she did not know why. He was no different than the others, so why would she feel so hesitant? Was he giving her some sort of clue or inclination of what to do next? Or something more than meets the eye?
‘Have I left you speechless, darling?’ He smiled, rising his brow. His smile could ignite thousands of unspoken words and insatiable whispers. It seemed as though silence was just enough of a conversation in the eyes of her dear Jack Sparrow.
‘Speechless? Decidedly not - I can’t seem to find enough words for you, Jack,’ she challenged, giggling. She left her inhibitions behind as she turned to him, taking a few steps in his direction to sit down by his side. She titled her head up once more to stare at the fiery sky.
‘How long do you think it will last?’
‘As long as it takes,’ he stated, uncorking the brandy bottle with his teeth. He took a small swig, licking the remnants off of his lips. ‘I’m surprised …’ he began.
‘Surprised about what?’ She inquired, turning her attention to him.
‘Well, it seems as though, in all your years of existence, you’ve never seen anything quite like this. So it is rather surprising that I’ve seen something that you haven’t.’
‘Trifles,’ she retorted, waving off his discovery, ‘Now tell me Jack, in all your life, have you ever cared for someone other than yourself?’
‘Aye, and it killed me,’ his eyes turned grim.
‘Oh Jack! You’re so dramatic.’ She teased, pushing his shoulder.
‘I’m afraid not! My actions are quite justifiable, missy,’ he protested, ‘I’m serious.’
She looked at him for a moment; his eyes grew detached and grim. He seemed so afraid and vulnerable. Maybe he was actually telling the truth after all.
‘So … you died?’
‘Aye.’
‘And yet here you are.’
He nodded his head, smiling at her curiosity, ‘Would you rather me be anywhere else?’
‘Alive,’ she confirmed, poking his arm.
‘I would hope so, or else this would be just a dream now, wouldn’t it?’
‘But -’ she still didn’t understand.
‘Trifles, dearie.’ He raised his hands to her, looking terribly uncomfortable, ‘Trust me, I won’t be going back.’
She narrowed her brow. She decided to wait a few moments to ask her next question. ‘What was it like?’
‘Maddening,’ he replied coldly. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure what was worse - the feeling of his flesh being torn limb from limb by the jaws of the Kraken, or the thought of his majestic Pearl trapped amongst insipid white sands while he was being followed by small rock-like creatures and having heated debates with himself about who to invite to his garden parties.
‘Ah … so you’re afraid?’ She deduced.
‘Like I said, darling, I won’t be going back.’ He took another swig of the warm brandy.
The small fragments of light began to disappear; their fury was outlived as the evening sky devoured their spirit.
‘All good things come to an end, or so it seems,’ she concluded, lying back fully on the soft blanket beneath her.
‘Not in your case. You’ve delayed your judgment by an eternity, yet you sit here, complaining about not being able to die - as if it was a bad thing no less.’
‘It is a bad thing, Jack! Do you not realize that you are tampering with something you cannot possibly comprehend?’ she protested, noticing a harsh look on his face. ‘I’m saying it for your own good!’
‘Well, aren’t you quite the example,’ he stated, shrewdly. He lifted himself off the blanket and took he place at the helm once more.
She sighed, looking down at her feet. He was right - she was no better than him. She had, at one time, sought out the fountain for her own selfish reasons as well. Who was she to deny him of following his own selfish impulses?
She raised herself up from the soft surface and took the blanket in her hands. ‘I’m sorry, Jack. Please take my advice with a grain of salt - I am no better.’ She turned to continue her way down the steps.
‘Bella!’ he yelled out to her before she could disappear below decks.
She turned to him only to find him motioning for her to come back to him at the helm. She reluctantly made her way back to him, unsure once again. She was always unsure when it came to Jack - he was as untamable and unpredictable as the sea.
He slithered an arm around her waist. ‘I can’t help but come to the realization that you seemed to be, for a moment, concerned about my welfare?’
She smirked at his forwardness. ‘Oh, that was just one of those passing moments, you know?’ Her voice was thick with sarcasm.
He gripped her waist tighter, causing her to shift forward toward his chest - causing a few of the trinkets around his waist to jingle. His face drew near, so near that she could now feel his pungent breath upon the skin of her cheeks, yet it didn’t faze her.
‘Just like this moment?’ he whispered, grazing his lips against hers as he watched her dark eyes close in anticipation. He smiled, letting the edges of his mustache tickle the very edges of her lips, as he rubbed her nose with his. Her heart skipped a beat each time she felt his chapped lips close in on hers, yet she never felt them make contact. His soft, shallow breath enticed her even further, her lips yearned for his, but she dared not to move. She allowed herself to raise her hands to his chest, letting a few of her fingers explore his smooth, bare skin, while the others were tormented by a rough linen barrier. He felt her heart race, as his competed against it. His hands did not waver from their position on the small of her back and on a lone peg of the helm - commanding two women at once for what seemed like an eternity.
‘I’m nothing like him, darling,’ he cooed, rubbing his nose along her soft cheek.
She opened her eyes.
‘Can you handle that?’
She swallowed slowly, meeting his gaze with hers. ‘I don’t know.’
------------------------
Her feet hit the stairs with an undeniable authority, her finger tips grazed the rails as the sounded of her arrival echoed below decks. Most of the men were out and about on deck or below in the armory. She casually sauntered towards her hammock, folding her blanket into a compact square so it could fit neatly on top of one of the crates nearby.
‘You didn’t come back last night.’
‘What?’ His tone of voice startled her, causing her to drop the blanket. She turned around to find a rigid James Moore emerging from the darkness.
‘James! You scared the hell out of me!’ she exclaimed, placing a hand on her chest.
‘Last night …’ he continued, paying no mind to her statement, ‘you were with the Captain, am I right?’
‘That’s right.’
‘You never came back,’ he reiterated. ‘So you’ve finally let him go, have you? For a pirate no less, a fine choice you’ve made,’ Moore insinuated - constituting a well played verbal slap in the face for his General.
She stopped, half-turning to meet his gaze.
‘That’s none of your business,’ she said through her teeth, her muscles grew tense at his statement.
‘Is it now?’ He stood. ‘Have you’ve forgotten what purpose we’ve set out for?’
A flame ignited in her eyes. ‘Have you forgotten, my dear James, the role our Captain will play in the reawakening of Ares?’ She answered his question with another, letting her hand grazed the scar under the neck of her tunic.
His eyes narrowed.
‘Men like Jack, do not stumble upon our doorstep very often, James. If he does, indeed, plan on fulfilling his selfish impulses by gaining immortality, do you not think he would do it by any means necessary? Especially after being eluded by it so many times?’ she inquired further, pouting at Jack’s misfortune while taking a few steps closer to her lieutenant.
‘So how does cavorting with him in the early hours of the morning factor into your plan?’ His voice turned icy and bitter.
She scolded him with her gaze for a few moments, only to break it moments later when an unsettling commotion seemed to have formed above them.
‘General!’ The young Colin Andrews mustered through wide eyes and heavy breathing, ‘A ship’s been spotted! Captain wants all hands!’
They both shot up, but before James could reach the steps, Isabella stopped him. ‘Remember, James, I am no fool.’
He grimaced. ‘You may not be a fool, but you’ve grown foolish for him,’ he thought, hurrying along passed her.
Author: stealmybike
Pairing: Jack/Isabella, Pintel, Ragetti
Rating: Adventure/Humor/Romance
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything other than a vivid imagination.
A/N: Chapter 15 finally complete! Isabella finally prepares to fight her demons and lets go of her past love.
For all those with an FF.net you can find this chapter: here
Reviews are welcomed and appreciated :)
Chapter 15 - More than Meets the Eye
She rubbed her throbbing back, unable to believe that she had found herself in such a situation.
‘I don’t think you should try it again…’ Moore cautioned, lifting his feet up on a pair of old soggy, crates while leaning back to casually rest his head on his arms. He raised his brow at her, taking the time to look into her eyes; he gave her a stern yet comical gaze that clearly implied, ‘you should know better.’
‘Why, I reckon she should give it another go, what’s it been … five times?’ Ragetti pointed out.
‘Yeh can’t possibly hurt your arse mo’ than yeh already ‘ave!’ Confirmed the giggling Pintel, who found her situation to be quite amusing. Indeed, he snorted with delight.
Isabella pulled at the strings of her hammock, manipulating their loose edges between her long fingers. She studied the hammock’s intricate string work, she pouted as she turned her attention to the small group of men who still were awake to help her get into it in the first place. If it weren’t for them, she’d probably be sleeping on a very unpalatable floor, alongside a wide array of crawling stowaways from the sea.
Pintel lifted his brow to her, simultaneously lifting his chin along with it, urging her to try once more.
‘All right,’ she sighed, extending the hammock with her hands, allowing her enough space to sit comfortably, ‘get ready for another laugh, gents.’
She stumbled a bit, cautiously trying to lift her leg into the hammock for leverage, yet getting a contradictory result from her efforts. Whether it was the Hellride’s constant sway or her sheer lack of balance, Isabella found herself tumbling out of her hammock once more.
Its frail ends twisting vigorously, causing it to wrap around her body for a slight moment, then abruptly releasing her from the large opening that she had inadvertently created as she fanned out her arms, attempting to stop the spinning. She anticipated the pain of the hard wooden floor as she came crashing down, yet she never met it. Instead, she landed onto a softer and more inviting place, the arms of her valiant lieutenant, James Moore.
‘You’re hopeless, I hope you know that.’ he teased, lifting her up with undeniable ease.
‘I almost had it!’ she retorted, trying to not seem so helpless in the eyes of those around her.
‘Right - just like you “had it” the other five times?’ He smirked, narrowing his brow; his furrow developed distinctly in between his fair, auburn eyebrows.
‘Well, Mr. I Sleep on Soggy Crates! Why don’t you give it a try?’ she retorted slyly, hitting him in the chest, causing him to relinquish his hold on her.
He gulped, clearly hesitant at his General’s challenge.
‘That’s what I thought!’ she stated, folding her arms. ‘Now will one of you be a gentleman and kindly lift me into this bloody thing?’
A wide range of hands shot up in the air.
‘Men…’ She sighed.
------------------------
She lay awake for most of the night, finally beginning to settle into her hammock, but still not used to the unstable sack - preferring a solid bed more than anything. She brought her hands behind her head, interlocking her hands as one, tangling the tresses of her greasy hair between the webbing of her long fingers. She leisurely crossed her right leg over her left, flinching at the sudden bursts of movement from the dangling net-like cage.
She shut her eyes for a few moments, inhaling warm air that clouded the berth deck; her ears bore witness to heavy-hearted snores from yet another group of men - reinforcing distant and painful memories, taunting them to haunt her thoughts once more. She inhaled profoundly, letting her rib cage rise to its fullest capacity but didn’t proceed to exhale. She held it in, feeling heavy weight grow within her - a weight she could not reach out far enough to lift away. Rather she lay helpless, turning her head every few moments to scan the dimly lit room; letting her thoughts wander to the men she’d spent over an eternity to raise. She was a mother to each and every one of them, figuratively speaking. The pain and suffering of her own demise no longer fazed her, but the thought of losing one of them by her own doing, knotted her insides to the brink of agony.
‘If you could see them now, Alastair … you’d be so proud,’ she thought, finally releasing the air from her yearning lungs, eagerly taking in another.
‘You would have been right proud of your son, Nathaniel, his son Jarvis, and Jarvis’ son Marcus …’ she continued. She spoke to him softly within her thoughts, as she had done every evening after secretly enjoying each other’s flesh and physicality. In her mind it was as if he were still present before her, shielding himself from her gaze like a lover in disguise.
She turned her attention to her slumbering lieutenant, James Moore - the valiant descendent of the man she had once loved. She watched him sleep for a moment, eyeing his atypical slouching posture. She watched as his rising rib cage invited the warm evening air into his lungs, letting our small snorts as he shifted himself periodically on the uncomfortable pile of old crates.
‘James ...’ she began, ‘he’s just like you, you know? As much as I tell him he’s not … he really is a spitting imagine of you … he’s got your eyes.’ She smiled, thinking of the man who had held her in his arms that very evening. ‘You’d be right proud.’
Her smile subsided. She sighed softly, realizing that she had spent the last four hundred years surrounded by the offspring of men who had saved her from an eternity of confinement. To her left lay Lieutenant Jordan, descendant of Alastair’s uncle, Baxter. He slept amongst his four brothers - Brodie, Jerome, Camron, and Murphy - all dedicated and skilled sword fighters.
To her right slept the five lone descendents of Ramsy Sinclair, the man who bunked with Baxter and assisted in creating the underground passageway. She thought of the oath she swore to those six men that faithful night, amongst the dark, long-stemmed grasses of the calm English meadow - an oath that Alastair believed would save her from the scrupulous eyes of the notorious convicts. He was right, like he always was. She swore an oath of honor; an oath she passionately held onto it ever since, never faltering. She was a woman of her word and the Gods could not take that away from her, no matter how hard they tried to subdue her fury.
‘Was it right for me to condemn these men to a lifetime of conflict for my own cause?’
She looked around the room again; dim candlelight caressed the features of the slumbering men beside her as the darkness of night devoured their distinctness. She felt a heavy weight becoming present on her heart; she never thought this day would finally come, and now she must face the fact that she must fight her demons.
‘I don’t believe so anymore …’ she confirmed. Yet she had no other alternative.
‘I feel like I’ve held onto you for an eternity,’ she sighed.
‘Would you have let me go by now?’ She inquired, hoping to hear the slightest inclination of what path she should take.
She received no response.
‘Or do I have to let go?’ She opened her eyes slowly, narrowing her brow as she ran her fingers through her hair. She let her thoughts wander to Jack for a moment; his swagger and sway, sense of adventure, curiosity, and most of all his freedom. He ignited an unrelenting flame within her soul, one that had not been lit for centuries and it felt good.
‘You’ve cursed me, Alastair,’ she concluded, ‘You’ve cursed my heart and I was a fool to let you do so.’ She smirked, marveling at how one soul had completely taken her for so many years.
‘Will you let someone else have a chance?’ She bit her lip, ‘Would you think of me any different?’
‘Let me go …’ she pleaded, closing her eyes once more. ‘Let me go,’ she whispered aloud before falling into a very shallow daze.
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The soles of his boots traveled down the ship’s rickety stairs carefully, as to not awaken the rest of the crew. As he entered the threshold below decks he held a large pierced tin lantern over his head, its amber lighting flooded through its front glass pane onto his features, highlighting his high cheekbones and deepening the intensity of his kohl lined eyes. His ring clad hand glimmered in the presence of the lantern’s fiery glow, relinquishing diminutive bursts of light. His hands alone created life within the barren surroundings below deck.
He scanned the room earnestly, trying to peer over what seemed like countless bodies to find whom he was really searching for.
He cleared his throat, loud enough to startle the lightest of sleepers.
Her eyes shot open, just as he anticipated.
‘Bella?’ Jack whispered, with all the subtleness he could possibly possess, continuing down the few remaining steps, inadvertently stumbling over several of his crewman as he made his way over to her.
‘Jack?’ she whispered, curling her lip in sheer astonishment. ‘What are you doing-’
He held a finger to his lips, raising his brow at her, a sly smirk rose from the corner of his mouth. He patted his hand on a draped piece of fabric over his shoulder, ‘Thought I’d forget didn’t you?’ he inquired, rather triumphantly.
She smiled, crossing her arms over her chest, ‘It’s about time.’
He raised another hand, urging her to follow him up the stairs from which he came.
‘I can’t…’ She looked down at the ground. ‘I’m stuck …’
He didn’t understand.
‘You don’t know how long it took me to get in this thing!’ She whispered hoarsely.
‘Shush!’ he urged, rolling his eyes. He let his lips part just slightly, causing small flickers of light to reflect off his gold teeth.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ she argued, grabbing onto the pole from which the hammock was hung. She lifted her body up as best she could, being sure not to cause a series of unwanted commotions.
She peered under her bed to retrieve the bottle of brandy she had taken earlier in the evening, but as she reached down into darkness, she found nothing.
She looked around the room, somewhat confused, ‘Where the blazes … Oh!’ Her search had come to an end at the slightly portly fellow who held the bottle close to his chest.
‘Seems as though Mr. Mullroy enjoys a good brandy!’ She thought, amused by the sight of Mr. Mullroy cradling the bottle of brandy like a newborn child.
She crept up beside him, squatting at his side, and began her work to free the bottle out of his grasp. She grabbed it by the top as she curled her tongue to the outside of her lip. She slowly began tilting it back and forth, smiling as it moved up his chest. He snorted, fidgeting a bit from the motion but then quickly fell back to sleep.
‘Phew!’ she whispered, continuing her work until the bottle found its way out of Mullroy’s clutches.
She lifted herself up from her squat, and tried to make her way up the stairs as quickly as she could.
She was greeted by the cool evening breeze as she stepped through the threshold onto the deck.
She took a few steps forward into the darkness, noticing that Jack had taken the time to blow out all the lamps on the ship.
‘There you are!’ She was greeted by a very impatient Captain.
‘I’ve got to show you something! Time is of the essence, darling. So, if you’d kindly move your arse, I’d be much obliged,’ he stated, blowing out his lantern while making his way up to the quarterdeck in perpetual darkness.
She followed him up the stairs eagerly with both of her calloused hands gripping the rail; unsure of what Jack would want to show her at this time of night. She turned her head profusely, trying to decipher any inclination of something that could be chasing after them, yet she saw nothing. The only signs of life were heard in gusts of wind being trapped within their white sails, and the creak of the dark, shadowy Pearl eerily creeping up behind them ever so slowly.
His shadowy presence stood beside the helm; he held his hands behind his back as he tilted his head back to look up at the sky, his gaze unwavering as she cautiously approached him. She reached out to the wheel, gripping the pegs lightly as she stood to face him.
‘What’s going on?’ she inquired, softly.
He grabbed her shoulders and gently turned her around, facing her back to his chest. He let his hand graze her neck as he hooked his fingers beneath her chin, raising her face up to the sky.
A celestial event was taking place before their eyes, small fragments of light radiated from one point in the dark abyss. These small fragments of cosmic debris punctured the sky before them at what seemed like an extremely high speed, only to vaporize soon after, leaving streaks of light that quickly disappeared after only a few moments.
‘What is it?’ She asked in a voice that was lower than a whisper as she tilted her head back a bit to address him. Yet she did not let her eyes waver from the sight.
‘Not really sure. This is the first time I’ve seen it meself.’
She smiled, marveling at the unobtainable forces of light above her, a warm feeling grew within her; it was truly miraculous to gaze upon something so unexplainable.
‘I’ve seen something like it,’ he continued, ‘…years ago when I was a boy, but it was just one. It was rather breathtaking.’ He raised an arm to her shoulder and another to the sky. ‘In the eyes of any other man, it appeared to be unnatural and ghostly … but I could not help but be in awe at its beauty.’ he whispered in her ear.
He tilted his head down, finally, to look at his star gazing companion. He gently took her arms, grazing his fingers along the length of them until he reached her small wrists. He placed her hands on the smooth pegs of the wheel. He could feel her pulse quicken in his grasp yet he did not falter. She tilted her head down as well, and looked out before her toward the endless darkness that waited their arrival.
‘Do you still wish to learn how to man the helm? Or would you rather-’
She titled her head up again, lightly resting her scalp on his chest. ‘They look like little tear drops, don’t they, Jack?’ She interrupted, truly fascinated by the sight. He grew a bit disappointed, it was not every day that a Captain could bestow few bits and pieces of knowledge on one who truly wished to learn. But given the circumstances, tear drops and all, he decided to save his lesson for another day.
He stepped back, taking the small blanket off of his shoulder, placing it down along the cool deck, just a few feet behind the wheel. He plopped himself down upon it, crossing his legs while propping himself up on his elbows.
She half-turned, slowly to find Jack, lying back as he once had in her distant memories. She bit her lip, feeling small bursts of the evening breeze kiss the apples of her cheeks. She tightened her grasp on the pegs a bit further as uneasy thoughts entered her mind. Her hands grew damp as she began to feel out of breath, her heart beating rapidly; she was unnaturally nervous, yet she did not know why. He was no different than the others, so why would she feel so hesitant? Was he giving her some sort of clue or inclination of what to do next? Or something more than meets the eye?
‘Have I left you speechless, darling?’ He smiled, rising his brow. His smile could ignite thousands of unspoken words and insatiable whispers. It seemed as though silence was just enough of a conversation in the eyes of her dear Jack Sparrow.
‘Speechless? Decidedly not - I can’t seem to find enough words for you, Jack,’ she challenged, giggling. She left her inhibitions behind as she turned to him, taking a few steps in his direction to sit down by his side. She titled her head up once more to stare at the fiery sky.
‘How long do you think it will last?’
‘As long as it takes,’ he stated, uncorking the brandy bottle with his teeth. He took a small swig, licking the remnants off of his lips. ‘I’m surprised …’ he began.
‘Surprised about what?’ She inquired, turning her attention to him.
‘Well, it seems as though, in all your years of existence, you’ve never seen anything quite like this. So it is rather surprising that I’ve seen something that you haven’t.’
‘Trifles,’ she retorted, waving off his discovery, ‘Now tell me Jack, in all your life, have you ever cared for someone other than yourself?’
‘Aye, and it killed me,’ his eyes turned grim.
‘Oh Jack! You’re so dramatic.’ She teased, pushing his shoulder.
‘I’m afraid not! My actions are quite justifiable, missy,’ he protested, ‘I’m serious.’
She looked at him for a moment; his eyes grew detached and grim. He seemed so afraid and vulnerable. Maybe he was actually telling the truth after all.
‘So … you died?’
‘Aye.’
‘And yet here you are.’
He nodded his head, smiling at her curiosity, ‘Would you rather me be anywhere else?’
‘Alive,’ she confirmed, poking his arm.
‘I would hope so, or else this would be just a dream now, wouldn’t it?’
‘But -’ she still didn’t understand.
‘Trifles, dearie.’ He raised his hands to her, looking terribly uncomfortable, ‘Trust me, I won’t be going back.’
She narrowed her brow. She decided to wait a few moments to ask her next question. ‘What was it like?’
‘Maddening,’ he replied coldly. Come to think of it, he wasn’t sure what was worse - the feeling of his flesh being torn limb from limb by the jaws of the Kraken, or the thought of his majestic Pearl trapped amongst insipid white sands while he was being followed by small rock-like creatures and having heated debates with himself about who to invite to his garden parties.
‘Ah … so you’re afraid?’ She deduced.
‘Like I said, darling, I won’t be going back.’ He took another swig of the warm brandy.
The small fragments of light began to disappear; their fury was outlived as the evening sky devoured their spirit.
‘All good things come to an end, or so it seems,’ she concluded, lying back fully on the soft blanket beneath her.
‘Not in your case. You’ve delayed your judgment by an eternity, yet you sit here, complaining about not being able to die - as if it was a bad thing no less.’
‘It is a bad thing, Jack! Do you not realize that you are tampering with something you cannot possibly comprehend?’ she protested, noticing a harsh look on his face. ‘I’m saying it for your own good!’
‘Well, aren’t you quite the example,’ he stated, shrewdly. He lifted himself off the blanket and took he place at the helm once more.
She sighed, looking down at her feet. He was right - she was no better than him. She had, at one time, sought out the fountain for her own selfish reasons as well. Who was she to deny him of following his own selfish impulses?
She raised herself up from the soft surface and took the blanket in her hands. ‘I’m sorry, Jack. Please take my advice with a grain of salt - I am no better.’ She turned to continue her way down the steps.
‘Bella!’ he yelled out to her before she could disappear below decks.
She turned to him only to find him motioning for her to come back to him at the helm. She reluctantly made her way back to him, unsure once again. She was always unsure when it came to Jack - he was as untamable and unpredictable as the sea.
He slithered an arm around her waist. ‘I can’t help but come to the realization that you seemed to be, for a moment, concerned about my welfare?’
She smirked at his forwardness. ‘Oh, that was just one of those passing moments, you know?’ Her voice was thick with sarcasm.
He gripped her waist tighter, causing her to shift forward toward his chest - causing a few of the trinkets around his waist to jingle. His face drew near, so near that she could now feel his pungent breath upon the skin of her cheeks, yet it didn’t faze her.
‘Just like this moment?’ he whispered, grazing his lips against hers as he watched her dark eyes close in anticipation. He smiled, letting the edges of his mustache tickle the very edges of her lips, as he rubbed her nose with his. Her heart skipped a beat each time she felt his chapped lips close in on hers, yet she never felt them make contact. His soft, shallow breath enticed her even further, her lips yearned for his, but she dared not to move. She allowed herself to raise her hands to his chest, letting a few of her fingers explore his smooth, bare skin, while the others were tormented by a rough linen barrier. He felt her heart race, as his competed against it. His hands did not waver from their position on the small of her back and on a lone peg of the helm - commanding two women at once for what seemed like an eternity.
‘I’m nothing like him, darling,’ he cooed, rubbing his nose along her soft cheek.
She opened her eyes.
‘Can you handle that?’
She swallowed slowly, meeting his gaze with hers. ‘I don’t know.’
------------------------
Her feet hit the stairs with an undeniable authority, her finger tips grazed the rails as the sounded of her arrival echoed below decks. Most of the men were out and about on deck or below in the armory. She casually sauntered towards her hammock, folding her blanket into a compact square so it could fit neatly on top of one of the crates nearby.
‘You didn’t come back last night.’
‘What?’ His tone of voice startled her, causing her to drop the blanket. She turned around to find a rigid James Moore emerging from the darkness.
‘James! You scared the hell out of me!’ she exclaimed, placing a hand on her chest.
‘Last night …’ he continued, paying no mind to her statement, ‘you were with the Captain, am I right?’
‘That’s right.’
‘You never came back,’ he reiterated. ‘So you’ve finally let him go, have you? For a pirate no less, a fine choice you’ve made,’ Moore insinuated - constituting a well played verbal slap in the face for his General.
She stopped, half-turning to meet his gaze.
‘That’s none of your business,’ she said through her teeth, her muscles grew tense at his statement.
‘Is it now?’ He stood. ‘Have you’ve forgotten what purpose we’ve set out for?’
A flame ignited in her eyes. ‘Have you forgotten, my dear James, the role our Captain will play in the reawakening of Ares?’ She answered his question with another, letting her hand grazed the scar under the neck of her tunic.
His eyes narrowed.
‘Men like Jack, do not stumble upon our doorstep very often, James. If he does, indeed, plan on fulfilling his selfish impulses by gaining immortality, do you not think he would do it by any means necessary? Especially after being eluded by it so many times?’ she inquired further, pouting at Jack’s misfortune while taking a few steps closer to her lieutenant.
‘So how does cavorting with him in the early hours of the morning factor into your plan?’ His voice turned icy and bitter.
She scolded him with her gaze for a few moments, only to break it moments later when an unsettling commotion seemed to have formed above them.
‘General!’ The young Colin Andrews mustered through wide eyes and heavy breathing, ‘A ship’s been spotted! Captain wants all hands!’
They both shot up, but before James could reach the steps, Isabella stopped him. ‘Remember, James, I am no fool.’
He grimaced. ‘You may not be a fool, but you’ve grown foolish for him,’ he thought, hurrying along passed her.