The Flight of the Sparrow
Disclaimer-I own the plot!! Whohoo!! And I own Grace!! Whohoo!! I get so tired of writing Disney owns this…Disney owns that…Bla bla bla…Well actually… Disney owns Elizabeth, Will, and, sigh, Jack…
AU- This first section will display a deeper side of Jack…but I assure you the Jack Sparrow you all know and love will be back in no time!
*~*
"Drink up me 'earties, yo ho," The words were not cheerful as Jack Sparrow downed the remainder of rum in the cracked round bottle. They were dull, expressionless…lonely… He smiled lovingly at the bottle in his hands. So his crew had bid their farewells. So what? They were cowards! They were afraid to face the open seas stretching out before them; at times farther then the sky. Jack narrowed his eyes against the wind that whipped the course matted dreadlocks around his face. His rough hands rested on the smooth, comforting wood of the sturdy wheel before him. Still holding the neck of the bottle between his thumb and forefinger, he gently caressed the chipped paint. He stared out into the sunrise, the continuous swelling of the waves hypnotizing him as it never failed to do. This is what he lived for. Sometimes the greatest rewards for a pirate were not gold and precious jewels.
Captain Jack Sparrow was in love with the most beautiful lady to grace the earth. The lady sea had never let him down; she was always waiting for him, calling to him. Lifting the tattered russet hat off his head in a sign off respect, his eyes never leaving the horizon he spoke to the love of his life,
"Give us a good one, me lady," his voice was low, and a growl, but the usual slur was gone. His deep auburn eyes had a far away look in them; longing, sorrow. Some people said Pirates couldn't love, others said Pirates didn't have hearts at all. Both were very wrong indeed. The difference between decent, respected people and pirates was those capable of feeling deep emotion; and those capable of hiding deep emotion.
Captain Jack Sparrow was in love with the sea; and rum. So his crew had bit their farewells. So what? He still had his rum…
*~*
"Elizabeth, will you get that?" After the third ring, Manuel had still failed to answer the door. Elizabeth sighed and set down the scarf she had been knitting. She hurried to the door, in hopes that Will had left the blacksmith's shop early. But the friendly eyes that met hers did not belong to Will.
"Doctor McDaphten!" She cried beaming; hoping the disappointment of Will's absence did not show on her face. "Miss McDaphten," she smiled politely at the doctor's daughter.
"Oh Elizabeth, there is no need for formalities! 'Miss McDaphten' sounds so solemn," She laughed, removing the fancy straw hat on her head to reveal a mound of golden blonde locks scooped up at the back of her neck.
"Very well, Doctor McDaphten, Grace, wont you come in?" Elizabeth closed the door behind them, and led them through the elegant halls to her father's study. He looked up when she knocked on the doorframe and a very fake look of pleasant surprise came over his face.
"Ah, Doctor McDaphten!" He laid the stunning peacock feather quill upon the parchment he had been scribbling furiously on moments earlier, and crossed the room to greet them. "You have come to…check on the baby then?" Elizabeth noted the iciness in his voice when he spoke of her child. It had not been a pretty sight when she had told him she was pregnant. Obviously he was still hoping she would desert Will and fall madly in love with a very respectable man; such as Commodore Norrington. The doctor seemed to notice this too, because he quickly turned the subject around, and Grace led her out of the room.
"So Elizabeth, how have you been?" She asked once Elizabeth was comfortably situated in her bedroom.
"I've been…alright…" It was true, she had been taking it easy ever since she found out she was with child, but something was missing. And she had a nagging thought of what that something might be. Life back home was incredibly boring, and many a time she had caught herself staring almost longingly out at the sea. Will seemed preoccupied as well; he seemed distant, as if living in a continuous daydream. Grace was looking at her with an expression of sympathy on her face.
"It must get boring though; after all that excitement with those pirates," Elizabeth's head snapped up, but Grace was busy riffling through a stack of papers she had produced from her father's medical bag.
"Well, yes, I suppose a part of me wishes for some excitement, but-," Grace nodded in agreement, averting her eyes from the papers; she looked at Elizabeth, an expression of recollection on her face.
"I remember when I was younger," She laughed softly to herself, "A rebellious little tomboy I was! My best friend was a boy…you can imagine what my father thought of that. We would always be up to some mischief or the other. I haven't seen Quayton in years…" Elizabeth stared. She wasn't sure if Grace had meant to say that aloud, but in a matter of moments, the dreamy expression cleared, and her face became impassive. "Sometimes I miss it, sometimes I don't," Her usual cheery smile did not reach her deep ocean blue eyes, "But it is my past. It has been forgotten."
*~*
"Ok, I'll get back to you as soon as I can, Elizabeth," Grace said cheerfully as Elizabeth led her to the door. Elizabeth smiled graciously, and opened the door to show her out, and was shocked to see the grimy face of a young boy looking up at her.
"Oh, good day Miss. A message from Will Turner, he wishes for you to meet him in the pub at dusk," The boy recited, eyeing the two young women uncomfortably. Elizabeth nodded her thanks, and the boy set off down the long driveway, Grace not so far behind.
Sunset was not far off, and Elizabeth eagerly started down the worn path to Port Royal's one and only pub. It was clean and respectable compared to anywhere else in the Caribbean. But, then again, what else could you expect from safe, boring, old Port Royal.
Sitting down near the crackling fire, uncomfortably aware of the stares of many intoxicated men, she purposefully stared at her hands. Why had Will insisted she met him at a pub? Surely it was not the best place for the pregnant governor's daughter to be? A gruff, slurred voice interrupted her train of thoughts,
"Lizzie, fire, and rum? Not a smart mix if ye ask me…"
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AU2-Ok! I know you're all kind of confused, and kind of bored with this fic, but I promise it picks up! Grace will play an important roll; there is a reason for my madness!!!
R&R!!!