Okay, so here be an utterly predictable, common plotted and unexraordinary tale brought to you by the most uncreative individual of an unimaginative lot of the city of unimaginative, like wise the town of unimaginativity, ever to sail the seas of imagination. Ye be warned!
Disclaimer - The characters and events depicted in this unimaginative tale are most certainly plagiaristic. Any similarities to actual movies, popular or not, are entirely intentional. But hey! I'm not a box office draw, so Mr. Disney, hold your fire!
Chapter 1 - The Bargain
Alls fair in Love and War…
But this was neither there for everything had to be honest and straight forward whether our beloved captains were agreeable or not!
Deep down, in the furthest and most uncharted waters of their fortressed feelings, the honorable captains really were friends to the end… besides the fact that Barbossa mutinied consequentially leaving Jack to die on a God forsaken spit of land. Jack vowed to murder Barbossa for ten long years. Barbossa landed Jack on the same island…again…with a rum burning murderess. Jack shot and killed Barbossa leaving his body to wither away next to that cursed chest of Aztec gold. They both tried to kill one another while arguing about the Brethren Court once Tia Dalma had raised Barbossa from the land of the dead. Barbossa sailed away with their precious Pearl…again… and slippery Sparrow stole Barbossa's navigational charts which lead to the greatest treasure of all. All the while each paying the other great insult. Well… every friendship hits occasional reefs after all. Barbossa had braved an extremely dangerous venture on the sole mission of retrieving Jack from the dreaded locker, and Jack was happy to see him. Even though some, Jack included, may whisper something about the 'Brethren Court,' there are also those who would claim that it was, after all, braved for the most amiable of reasons. The real question being: who's got the figure of it? Can sworn enemies unwillingly be blood brothers?
But enough of that. Attention must be focused not on philosophical questions but on what is presently going forward. Presently meaning this very moment in the present. Which of course is that which every one universally would find utterly predictable: Barbossa's resentful concurrence in one of Jack's genius self progressing, schemesh and probably "dishonest" negotiations; Jack being one of those honest men you have to watch out for. After a series of events, having nothing what so ever to do with Jack, captain met with captain, and just as Barbossa was about to pull the trigger of his flint lock with a relish Jack, with his maddening air of drunken surety, forestalled the moment with one incoherent reference to the "buried charts." Barbossa was furious. Sparrow's blundering tongue had got him out of too many already. Still, it succeeded. The fierce Captain Barbossa found himself sharing the helm of his ship with "Sparra" (with a roll of the eyes)… again…
Not forgetting the honest and straight forward part, the bargain was this: that they partake in an unmutinable partnership while journeying far and wide to the feared land of the Sidh. Firstly, to retrieve the stolen charts so that they may hence be in the possession of their rightful thief (Barbossa). Secondly to commandeer a fierce and hugish ship with transparent sales and unknown powers no manmade vessel could possibly posses, owned by a prince of the Sidh. This ship, named the Enchantress, would then be peaceably surrendered to Barbossa so that the Pearl could hence be in the possession of her rightful thief (Sparrow).
Needless to say this was a difficult bargain to close for Barbossa. Give up the Pearl? The ship he had mutinied twice out of under Jack's drunken stupor? At first the thought was absolutely unoptable, but regardless of whether the Pearl was his pride and joy, due to being the fastest on the high seas, he had to do what was best for himself and his crew. With this loathsome bargain carried out he would have both the charts and a ship able to defeat the best navel vessels in this world. He may not be able to outrun them, but, looking from a birds eye view, that was better all round: why run when one can defeat and conquer? Realistically speaking this new ship would probably bring in more material riches than the Pearl was able to. That's if she was all she was paraded to be. She must prove herself first!
"Why so pensive Hector? You're not the sort of former chartman to leave an apple to rot in yer 'and."
Barbossa squeezed the apple tightly and straightened up from a leaning position on the starboard railing to give Jack a grudging glare, "Well what else would I be thinkin' of?"
"How to survive the Land of the Sidh? Don't worry mate. You got ol' Jack to head you through, remember I've been there."
"The only man to be headin anythin's going to be me self! I always keep me word Jack on a bargain once struck, but ye'll pardon me if I don't hold the same confidence in your word."
"Me, I'm juss…"
"'Dishonest.' Me point exactly!"
"But I have been there mate. An I'm the on'y livin soul that knows where be the charts chartman. Looks like you've got on'y one course of action then: you've got to trust me. And besides, this time you know fer certain you've got what I'm really after, (he lifted his hands from his sides and smirked as if it had been obvious) … me ship! Savvy?"
"Do I now… not even that cursed compass a yer's knows what yer really after Sparrow. An I'll just tell you this, ye best keep to yer word on this bargain or no amount of talkins going to stop ye from wishin you were still in the locker!" With that he sent the dripping apple gliding overboard, wishing it was Jack, before dictatorially striding to the wheel.
Frustrated with the world at large he spun it round. In a moment, however, his agitation subsided. With the wind brushing his long hair aside he became calm. He felt a slight exhilaration come over him as he turned the ship northbound. Being the feared pirate lord of the Caspian Sea, Barbossa had never realized that there was a certain something in him that longed to return to the ancient land of his fathers where mystery and legend joined to form the very stirrings of his own soul: his culture… his home…
Author's Note: This story will have as much accurate Irish mythology as I can find among my various books on the subject and of course as much as is productive for the story. I will also insert occasionally my own warped imitation of 'a legend' which will be completely a work of fiction, in which case I will give prior warning. As you can see I take mythological accuracy very seriously and would not wish to give a wrong impression. Thanks for taking the time to read -
