Truth in Lies
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all associated characters belong to their respective owners. I just play and give back. All I can lay claim to are the OC's in this story – and not even them. They own themselves, alright? I guess I come out with nada.
Author's Note: It may have taken several months, but I'm back on my feet and writing again. The muse has returned and rather seems to fancy this story – it's coming along nicely. Yay! Here's the first chapter of the first story in which I am really trying to incorporate fresh elements…you'll see what I mean later. Trust me, you will. Well, without further ado, read on and please be forgiving.
Chapter 1 – Unexpected Guest
"No. No, no, no, no—No!"
"Would ye kindly relax?"
"No, I will not! This is madness!"
"Not brilliance?"
"Decidedly not. No, I won't do it."
"You have such a strong affiliation with that word. Kinda makes you sound-"
"I don't bloody care 'ow it makes me sound!"
"Easy luv,"
"Don't you 'easy luv' me, Jack Sparrow!"
"Captain-"
"Not fer long if you keep this up."
"An' what's that supposed t' mean luv?"
"Stop with th' 'luv'!" Ana snarled, her eyes burning in annoyance.
Jack raised his hands in surrender—or defense—and shut his mouth. He met Ana's gaze evenly but it wasn't long before his eyes began traveling south. "Y'know luv," he began slowly, flinching back from the slap that should have come but didn't. His eyes shot back up to her face and he was surprised that she seemed calm. Too calm. It reminded him of the calm before a storm.
"No slap?" Ana remained silent with an unnerving half-smile in the corner of her mouth and her arms crossed. Jack pasted on a golden, lopsided grin of his own. "Alright then. What I was going to say was that if you don't feel up t' the challenge, you don't have to…" His eyes traveled down again. "Those clothes are very fitting, luv."
A loud slap echoed through the cabin.
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The cabin door swung open, smacking against the wall with a resounding thud. The young man sitting behind the large oak desk did not spare a glance at the doorway, though he did start when the door and wall impacted.
"Kole,"
"Captain Leshly if you please, crewman. This is my ship after all."
Heavy footsteps crossed the cabin menacingly and the quill was plucked from Kole's hand, leaving a trail of ink on his palm. Kole looked up in irritation but his emotions slid from annoyance to fear as the expression on the larger man's face registered.
The large man snapped the quill in two, spattering ink on Kole's face. "Not anymore, peacock."
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"Well done mates, well done!" Jack praised, sauntering across the deck. At the railing he paused and turned back to face the men on deck. "Bring a few kegs ashore and then send out a hunting party. There'll be a feast t'night at Rum Cay!" The crew loosed a rowdy call and quickly set about retrieving various items from the hold. Jack shrugged his coat off and tossed it carelessly on the deck.
"Captain,"
Jack looked up at the warning tone that came from his first mate, who was currently stalking dangerously toward him from the quarterdeck. He quickly turned his back on her again and set about removing his baldric. His hat was the last item to be placed atop the pile of effects when Ana came to a stop beside him, regarding her captain with a guardedly curious expression.
Jack ignored her presence and swung a leg over the rail.
"Cap'n, what're you doing?"
Jack paused in his motions and froze, resting his weight on one bare foot and the thigh laying over the rail. "No sense in holding up the boats with rowing one man ashore, aye?" Ana raised an eyebrow in silent question. Jack rolled his eyes and the ghost of a grin passed over his face, calling his bluff. "I'm swimmin' ashore, savvy?"
"Yer mad."
"Thanks fer filling me in on the obvious."
"Fine. But if you start drownin' I'm not saving you." The grin broke on his face and Ana crossed her arms in agitation. She watched in heated disapproval as he tossed his other leg over the railing, balanced tediously on it, and saluted her before dropping off the side of the ship in what could have been described as a clumsy fall. He hit the water with a loud splash and Ana peered over the rail as casually as she could.
Jack surfaced and inhaled deeply, treading water and grinning up at her sloppily. The grin vanished from his face and was replaced by a thoughtful frown. Not a full moment later he dove again.
Ana leaned heavily on the railing, staring at the water and waiting with a façade of nonchalance for her captain to resurface. Moments grew on one another and soon turned into minutes. Ana began drumming her fingers on the railing and shifted from one foot to the other.
"'Ey! Ana!" Ana jumped at the voice of her captain and searched the water below. No Jack. Trying desperately to hide her alarm, she strode stiffly across the deck and looked over the starboard rail. Jack was in the water below, staring expectantly up at the railing. "Ah, there you are lass. Th' barnacles and worms are gettin' to 'er—looks like we'll have to careen after all."
Ana massaged her temples in slow, circular motions. Leave it to Jack to leave the unpleasant explanations to her. "Aye Cap'n," she replied in a harsh growl.
Jack beamed at her. "Thanks luv." He dove again, swimming under the ship's belly to surface on the other side and continue in toward shore.
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"Lads, help yerselves t' another round!" The crew loosed a call of glee and the kegs were tapped once again. Jack tilted his chair back so it was balancing on two legs and rested his feet on the tabletop, one ankle crossed over the other. "You too lass, 'ave a drink," he drawled to Ana, who was seated on his left. Knowing a glare would be cast his way shortly, Jack tipped his hat down over his eyes.
He casually accepted the full mug of rum when he felt a heavy tap on his shoulder. Bringing the mug to his lips, he took a tentative sip, savoring the warmth of the liquid as it trickled down his throat. He felt the eyes of his crew on him and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. Jack tossed his head back and greedily drained the rum from his mug. Once emptied, he brought the mug down to rest on his stomach with a sigh. His mouth burned unpleasantly and he stubbornly fought against the cough tickling his throat. It didn't help that the room was beginning to spin.
The crew let loose an intoxicated cheer and Jack's grin returned, glinting gold in the flickering candlelight. He cast a curious glance to his left where Ana sat, glaring at him reproachfully. Her drink and meal were untouched.
"There a problem wit' yer drink, luv?"
Ana's glare darkened and she stood, leaving the dining hall at a brisk pace. Jack watched her go with slightly hazy eyes. Once she had disappeared through the open doorway at the far end of the hall he shrugged to himself and turned back to the table.
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Bright, warm morning sunlight filtered through the cracks in the shutters and highlighted a tanned form in a barred pattern. Jack shut his eyes tighter against the intruding light and rolled so his back was to the windows. The sunlight persisted, warming his bronzed skin where it fell.
The room was beginning to get uncomfortably warm.
Jack sighed in defeat and, with great effort, dragged himself off the mattress, resting his weight on his hands and hip. He slowly swung his legs over so they hung off the side of the bed and groggily ran his hands down his face. Knowing he'd regret the action, he opened his eyes and the dull throb in his skull multiplied several times over to turn into a piercing thrum. Jack winced and rubbed his temples, willing the pain away.
"Bloody 'angovers…" he muttered, dropping his hands and stretching with catlike grace. "I'm beginin' t' think 'lizabeth was right about it being a-" he stopped himself and froze in mid-stretch. He pondered the sentence he had begun and came to a swift conclusion. "Nah." With that decided, he stood and crossed the room to the large bureau. He leaned in toward the mirror, resting his hands heavily on the tabletop on either side of the wash basin. His eyes narrowed and he stared curiously at his reflection. Something seemed amiss, but his recovering mind could not quite put a finger on it…
His eyes traveled down to stare blankly at the numerous scars dotting his torso. So many memories went with those scars, none pleasant, but even such a blatant reminder of his mortality could not shake his firm belief in his own legend. He had a reputation to keep up, both with himself and his crew.
His brow furrowed and he realized what had been wrong with his reflection before. His hands flew to the wash basin.
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Jack sauntered out of his room, shirt in hand, and locked the door behind him. His eyes and cheeks were cleared of the streaked kohl that had aroused his concern before. He pocketed the key and then sauntered down the hall. He slowly descended the stairs, still slightly tipsy, and entered the curiously vacant dining hall. Jack paused in the doorway and took in the emptiness.
A pang of worry twisted in his gut.
His crew—at least some of them—should have been there already, preparing breakfast. The more rational part of his mind cautioned him not to jump to conclusions; he had to remain calm.
Passing through the kitchen on his way out, he absently grabbed an apple from one of the barrels and proceeded out into the burning Caribbean midmorning, pulling his shirt on as he went.
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"Well, 'e's breathin' an' all, but oyi, nasty luck 'e 'as,"
"I dunno Kursar…I think I'd call it bloody lucky."
"Cap'n's comin'," Crimp warned in a whisper. The crew fell silent, though some turned to welcome their distracted captain with a warm, if not somewhat concerned, expression.
Jack sauntered past several members of his crew, giving the green apple in his hand an awkward, almost disgusted, look. He stopped short as his occupied chestnut eyes caught a peripheral glimpse of the figure lying limply just past the high tide mark.
All previous thoughts relating to the apple forgotten, he tossed the piece of fruit to a nearby crewmember and dropped to his knees beside the drenched body. He pressed two fingers to the boy's neck, searching out a pulse. He lowered his head, listening for breaths and watching the youth's chest for the telltale rise and fall. To his relief, both pulse and breathing were present, though both were somewhat weaker than they normally would have been.
Jack straightened and searched the faces of his crewmen for any useful information but he was met by several blank stares. The pirate captain stood, brushed the sand from the knees of his breeches, and looked down calculatingly at the lad. The boy had short brown hair, fair skin, and his clothing was the tattered remains of flamboyant black, white, and red silks. A golden ring hung from one earlobe.
Jack nodded to himself and raised his gaze to the nearest crewman. "Duncan,"
"Aye sir?"
"Run ahead and prepare a room for our new guest. Make it something bigger than a closet this time, aye?"
"Aye sir." Duncan gestured for two others to follow him and the trio raced down the beach, back toward their haven.
Jack kneeled again and carefully, but efficiently, lifted the soggy youth from the sand. He shifted the lanky boy's weight in his arms and then started back to the extended mansion that he and his crew had built.