Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of the characters therein. I do own the characters I've made up for the story, though.
Pirates of the Caribbean: The Blood Repaid
Part 1 – Rumors
Jack sighed, leaning back in his chair as he propped his feet against the beaten-up wooden table. This was how things were supposed to be: a good haul from the last raid, his crew relaxed and on leave in Tortuga, him with a rum in hand, and—most importantly—the Pearl back in his control.
He held up his mug, his arm swaying only slightly. "To the Pearl," he announced before taking a good swig.
"Aye, to the Pearl!" Gibbs agreed.
Ana-Maria smiled and took a sip of her own drink as well. "My, my, Captain. If I didn't know you better I'd think you were being sentimental."
Jack grinned, his gold teeth flashing in the weak light of the tavern. "No, love, not sentimental. Just happy to have her back."
"Ah," Ana-Maria said, resting a hand under her chin and fixing her captain with a small smile. "So that would be why I found ye on deck last night when the crew was sleepin'. Watching the stars?"
Jack's eyes narrowed and he set his mug on the table. "Spying on me, now are we?"
"Just making sure you're going t' be all right."
"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, love." He spread his hands apart, and the grin returned. "I'm always all right."
Gibbs chuckled at that, and Ana-Maria shook her head, though she couldn't hide her own grin.
"So what be our next target, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked, his round face merry.
Jack quirked an eyebrow. "The way I see things, we have some business in Port Royal that needs to be taken care of."
"You mean Will Turner," Ana-Maria said.
"Aye, and Norrington too. We shouldn't forget to pay our respects to the esteemed Commodore."
She laughed. "Jack Sparrow, ye know very well that Norrington will skin you alive if he e'er catches you in that city again. He let ye off once—don't let it go to yer head."
"I never said I planned on being caught, love. I just want to check up on the lad, see what's afoot. He and that bonny lass of his are probably already married by now." He sighed, pushing his chair back on its two back legs. "I miss the adventure, the excitement." His bottom lip twitched. "Now the cursed gold and Barbossa, those I can do without."
"Captain, we've just gotten off our seventh successful raid in little over three months," Gibbs put in. "No one's claiming the Pearl isn't exciting."
Jack was about to respond when the tavern door swung open and a group of half a dozen seedy-looking pirates—most stumbling, drunk, and laughing—entered. One man had his arm slung crookedly around the neck of a pretty woman with a painted face; he was singing an old sea chantey Jack recognized, but only vaguely.
Another man, this one more sober than the rest, held up both arms outstretched, motioning for quiet. "Oye, mates!" His voice carried over the usual din of the tavern, halting conversations and earning him more than one glare or grumbled curse.
Jack looked to the two members of his crew, amused. "I think they may 'ave… overindulged."
Ana-Maria and Gibbs laughed under their breath, and all three listened as the newly arrived pirate began to speak.
"We, of the crew of the Starlit Rogue, have just heard a most deligh'ful story outta the good city of Port Royal." Jack's ears pricked up at the name as the man continued. "Well, I'm sure ev'ry man here has heard of old Captain Barbossa, eh?"
Jack frowned, and he heard Ana-Maria let out a hiss. The other pirates in the tavern offered various, muttered answers, but Jack knew most all of the denizens of Tortuga had heard about the exploits of Barbossa over the last ten years. He even caught a hint of fear in men's voices. The cursed man and his crew had become legendary during their decade of undead rampage. Jack intended to see to it that the Pearl became just as well known under his command.
"Well fear the Captain no more, mates!" The pirate broke into a yellowed smile. "It seems he's gone for good. And there's quite a story behind it too!"
"We know he's gone, idiot," a grizzled pirate at a nearby table rumbled. "Where've you been? Stranded in the middle of the ocean?"
The pirate held up his index finger and cocked his head. "Ah, but do you know the whole story?"
Jack crossed his arms. Over the last few months, he'd grown accustomed to the wild stories that had circulated around Tortuga and other ports, some so outrageous he barely recognized them as the same events he'd lived through. He had no doubt this pirate's story would be thoroughly entertaining, no matter how inaccurate it was.
"After Barbossa stole that cursed gold, we all remember the ten years of fear and tales," the pirate began, adopting the theatrical manner of a master storyteller.
" 'The wind wails for the black sails' " another pirate quoted tipping his hat in a mocking tribute.
"No longer!" came a hoarse cry from the back of the tavern.
Rough laughter broke out, and Jack watched men slam fists on tables and drink to the damnation of Barbossa and his wretched mongrels. Gibbs raised his mug to him and Jack hesitated only a moment before knocking it with his own in their own grim toast.
"But now!" The pirate-turned-storyteller held up his hands again, reassuming control of the tavern's focus. "Now, a mere three months ago, our heroes emerged!"
The woman draped around the drunken pirate giggled and made a great show of swooning and fanning herself.
"The brave men—and lady—" the tavern erupted in appreciative calls "—who sailed to the dread Isle de Muerta and killed the unkillable devil!"
As the pirate spoke, Jack was suddenly acutely grateful he and his two crewmembers were well hidden in a shadowed corner, avoiding any unwelcome recognition. He was expecting a long, drawn-out narrative of the great adventures of the Captain Jack Sparrow, as they had been hearing for months, but this pirate surprised him.
"William Turner and his loyal love single-handedly defeated Barbossa and his crew of one hundred miscreants! Alone, they invaded Isle de Muerta, fought valiantly against a ferocious foe, faced Barbossa himself, and broke the curse just in time to watch him die! Die a death he deserved many times over!
Each statement was punctuated by a hearty cheer from all the pirates in the tavern. All except Jack, Ana-Maria, and Gibbs. Ana-Maria shook her head and swiped a stray hair from her face, laughing to herself. Gibbs chuckled into his mug of ale. A part of Jack felt that he should be indignant for this slight, but he was far too amused. He couldn't help a little grin at the thought of William Turner having anything to do with pirates had it not been for him. Were it not for Jack Sparrow, Will would never have been dragged into that whole mess. That thought sobered him up a bit.
The pirate continued on for several more minutes, lavishly extolling on the virtues of the "handsome hero" and "fair maiden."
"Marshall!"
Jack heard one of the Rogue's crew whispering at the table behind him. With his back facing their table, he couldn't see them, but he figured it must be the one who'd come in with the woman.
The pirate who'd spun the fancied story of Barbossa and the Pearl turned from his conversation, looking slightly put off. "What?"
"That be him, sir!" the pirate continued in the same low voice that Jack had to strain to hear.
Marshall frowned. "Jobe, what the blazes—"
"It's Joshamee, sir. Gibbs."
Marshall's eyes widened slightly, and Jack could hear a hint of interest in his voice. "Is it now? Well, well, well."
Marshall murmured the name of another of his crew and said something Jack couldn't catch. A vague, uneasy feeling in his gut told him something was happening right behind his back that he didn't know. He fought the urge to turn around and demand to know just what these dogs were talking about, and instead looked to Ana-Maria, who shrugged, and then to Gibbs.
Gibbs was staring at his interlaced fingers, carefully keeping his expression blank. Obviously he, too, had heard the snippet of conversation. He was silent.
"Mr. Gibbs?" Jack's voice was quiet.
"Aye, it's nothin'." Gibbs met his eyes. "Bit o' old trouble, is all."
Jack watched the older man for a few moments, his brow furrowed, but said nothing. Ana-Maria busied herself with her rum, figuring it to be none of her business.
Gibbs' reaction did nothing to ease the knot in Jack's stomach, and for the rest of the night, the pirate captain found his rum to be little consolation. He'd never questioned Gibbs' motives or history before; but then again, ten years ago, he would have said the same of Barbossa.
The night air was refreshingly cold as Jack left the tavern a little while later, followed silently by Ana-Maria and Gibbs. They had slipped out the back exit in order to avoid prying eyes, and into the busy main street that ran through the heart of Tortuga. The pirate haven was alive and buzzing with people no matter the time of day—or night.
Jack's eyes flared in alarm when he saw one of the Pearl's crew running up the crowded street toward him. He recognized the man as Duncan. The young man was knocking people out of his way in his haste, causing quite a disturbance, and as he got closer Jack could hear him calling his name. He skidded to a stop in front of Jack and Ana-Maria.
"Captain!" Duncan's face was pale, and he heaved for breath. "Captain, the Pearl…she's been attacked."
Pirates of the Caribbean: The Blood Repaid
Part 1 – Rumors
Jack sighed, leaning back in his chair as he propped his feet against the beaten-up wooden table. This was how things were supposed to be: a good haul from the last raid, his crew relaxed and on leave in Tortuga, him with a rum in hand, and—most importantly—the Pearl back in his control.
He held up his mug, his arm swaying only slightly. "To the Pearl," he announced before taking a good swig.
"Aye, to the Pearl!" Gibbs agreed.
Ana-Maria smiled and took a sip of her own drink as well. "My, my, Captain. If I didn't know you better I'd think you were being sentimental."
Jack grinned, his gold teeth flashing in the weak light of the tavern. "No, love, not sentimental. Just happy to have her back."
"Ah," Ana-Maria said, resting a hand under her chin and fixing her captain with a small smile. "So that would be why I found ye on deck last night when the crew was sleepin'. Watching the stars?"
Jack's eyes narrowed and he set his mug on the table. "Spying on me, now are we?"
"Just making sure you're going t' be all right."
"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, love." He spread his hands apart, and the grin returned. "I'm always all right."
Gibbs chuckled at that, and Ana-Maria shook her head, though she couldn't hide her own grin.
"So what be our next target, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked, his round face merry.
Jack quirked an eyebrow. "The way I see things, we have some business in Port Royal that needs to be taken care of."
"You mean Will Turner," Ana-Maria said.
"Aye, and Norrington too. We shouldn't forget to pay our respects to the esteemed Commodore."
She laughed. "Jack Sparrow, ye know very well that Norrington will skin you alive if he e'er catches you in that city again. He let ye off once—don't let it go to yer head."
"I never said I planned on being caught, love. I just want to check up on the lad, see what's afoot. He and that bonny lass of his are probably already married by now." He sighed, pushing his chair back on its two back legs. "I miss the adventure, the excitement." His bottom lip twitched. "Now the cursed gold and Barbossa, those I can do without."
"Captain, we've just gotten off our seventh successful raid in little over three months," Gibbs put in. "No one's claiming the Pearl isn't exciting."
Jack was about to respond when the tavern door swung open and a group of half a dozen seedy-looking pirates—most stumbling, drunk, and laughing—entered. One man had his arm slung crookedly around the neck of a pretty woman with a painted face; he was singing an old sea chantey Jack recognized, but only vaguely.
Another man, this one more sober than the rest, held up both arms outstretched, motioning for quiet. "Oye, mates!" His voice carried over the usual din of the tavern, halting conversations and earning him more than one glare or grumbled curse.
Jack looked to the two members of his crew, amused. "I think they may 'ave… overindulged."
Ana-Maria and Gibbs laughed under their breath, and all three listened as the newly arrived pirate began to speak.
"We, of the crew of the Starlit Rogue, have just heard a most deligh'ful story outta the good city of Port Royal." Jack's ears pricked up at the name as the man continued. "Well, I'm sure ev'ry man here has heard of old Captain Barbossa, eh?"
Jack frowned, and he heard Ana-Maria let out a hiss. The other pirates in the tavern offered various, muttered answers, but Jack knew most all of the denizens of Tortuga had heard about the exploits of Barbossa over the last ten years. He even caught a hint of fear in men's voices. The cursed man and his crew had become legendary during their decade of undead rampage. Jack intended to see to it that the Pearl became just as well known under his command.
"Well fear the Captain no more, mates!" The pirate broke into a yellowed smile. "It seems he's gone for good. And there's quite a story behind it too!"
"We know he's gone, idiot," a grizzled pirate at a nearby table rumbled. "Where've you been? Stranded in the middle of the ocean?"
The pirate held up his index finger and cocked his head. "Ah, but do you know the whole story?"
Jack crossed his arms. Over the last few months, he'd grown accustomed to the wild stories that had circulated around Tortuga and other ports, some so outrageous he barely recognized them as the same events he'd lived through. He had no doubt this pirate's story would be thoroughly entertaining, no matter how inaccurate it was.
"After Barbossa stole that cursed gold, we all remember the ten years of fear and tales," the pirate began, adopting the theatrical manner of a master storyteller.
" 'The wind wails for the black sails' " another pirate quoted tipping his hat in a mocking tribute.
"No longer!" came a hoarse cry from the back of the tavern.
Rough laughter broke out, and Jack watched men slam fists on tables and drink to the damnation of Barbossa and his wretched mongrels. Gibbs raised his mug to him and Jack hesitated only a moment before knocking it with his own in their own grim toast.
"But now!" The pirate-turned-storyteller held up his hands again, reassuming control of the tavern's focus. "Now, a mere three months ago, our heroes emerged!"
The woman draped around the drunken pirate giggled and made a great show of swooning and fanning herself.
"The brave men—and lady—" the tavern erupted in appreciative calls "—who sailed to the dread Isle de Muerta and killed the unkillable devil!"
As the pirate spoke, Jack was suddenly acutely grateful he and his two crewmembers were well hidden in a shadowed corner, avoiding any unwelcome recognition. He was expecting a long, drawn-out narrative of the great adventures of the Captain Jack Sparrow, as they had been hearing for months, but this pirate surprised him.
"William Turner and his loyal love single-handedly defeated Barbossa and his crew of one hundred miscreants! Alone, they invaded Isle de Muerta, fought valiantly against a ferocious foe, faced Barbossa himself, and broke the curse just in time to watch him die! Die a death he deserved many times over!
Each statement was punctuated by a hearty cheer from all the pirates in the tavern. All except Jack, Ana-Maria, and Gibbs. Ana-Maria shook her head and swiped a stray hair from her face, laughing to herself. Gibbs chuckled into his mug of ale. A part of Jack felt that he should be indignant for this slight, but he was far too amused. He couldn't help a little grin at the thought of William Turner having anything to do with pirates had it not been for him. Were it not for Jack Sparrow, Will would never have been dragged into that whole mess. That thought sobered him up a bit.
The pirate continued on for several more minutes, lavishly extolling on the virtues of the "handsome hero" and "fair maiden."
"Marshall!"
Jack heard one of the Rogue's crew whispering at the table behind him. With his back facing their table, he couldn't see them, but he figured it must be the one who'd come in with the woman.
The pirate who'd spun the fancied story of Barbossa and the Pearl turned from his conversation, looking slightly put off. "What?"
"That be him, sir!" the pirate continued in the same low voice that Jack had to strain to hear.
Marshall frowned. "Jobe, what the blazes—"
"It's Joshamee, sir. Gibbs."
Marshall's eyes widened slightly, and Jack could hear a hint of interest in his voice. "Is it now? Well, well, well."
Marshall murmured the name of another of his crew and said something Jack couldn't catch. A vague, uneasy feeling in his gut told him something was happening right behind his back that he didn't know. He fought the urge to turn around and demand to know just what these dogs were talking about, and instead looked to Ana-Maria, who shrugged, and then to Gibbs.
Gibbs was staring at his interlaced fingers, carefully keeping his expression blank. Obviously he, too, had heard the snippet of conversation. He was silent.
"Mr. Gibbs?" Jack's voice was quiet.
"Aye, it's nothin'." Gibbs met his eyes. "Bit o' old trouble, is all."
Jack watched the older man for a few moments, his brow furrowed, but said nothing. Ana-Maria busied herself with her rum, figuring it to be none of her business.
Gibbs' reaction did nothing to ease the knot in Jack's stomach, and for the rest of the night, the pirate captain found his rum to be little consolation. He'd never questioned Gibbs' motives or history before; but then again, ten years ago, he would have said the same of Barbossa.
The night air was refreshingly cold as Jack left the tavern a little while later, followed silently by Ana-Maria and Gibbs. They had slipped out the back exit in order to avoid prying eyes, and into the busy main street that ran through the heart of Tortuga. The pirate haven was alive and buzzing with people no matter the time of day—or night.
Jack's eyes flared in alarm when he saw one of the Pearl's crew running up the crowded street toward him. He recognized the man as Duncan. The young man was knocking people out of his way in his haste, causing quite a disturbance, and as he got closer Jack could hear him calling his name. He skidded to a stop in front of Jack and Ana-Maria.
"Captain!" Duncan's face was pale, and he heaved for breath. "Captain, the Pearl…she's been attacked."