Disclaimer: No matter how hard I try to steal them, they still have the Disney trademark stamped on them!
Author's note and dedication: I just finished a long story called "The Other Side of the Island", another story in the series in which Jack and Will are cousins... as in all of my fictions, Will has won a pardon from the Flying Dutchman and is reunited with Elizabeth as Jack's crew; the ship's articles were rewritten by Calypso, with Jack's help. Will is bound to return to the Dutchman, when needed, to advise her captain, James Norrington, for the ten years that he was originally to be the captain, but is otherwise free to live his mortal life.
... this one shot is an offshoot of "The Other Side of the Island" story... it is really a "deleted scene". Jack, Will, Elizabeth and Jack's true lady love, Janie O'Madden, have rescued two kidnapped gypsy children while visiting in Jack's homeland of Ireland. Jack, in my fictions, is half gypsy, and was sold into slavery as a child because of his race; thus, his obsession with freedom. In the meantime, a one shot about Jack and a newfound friend!
I dedicate this one shot to "Jennifer Lynn Weston", who made some wonderful suggestions for the long story... enjoy, mate! Pirate Cat
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The celebration feast at the camp was a sumptuous one, indeed! The caravans were festooned with beautiful decorative streamers, and the tables were set with huge platters of food, much more than any of them would ever be able to consume... the campfires had been roasting wild boar and goose, and there had been savory platters of fried potatoes with bacon, and a gypsy dish that was very dear to one of the honoured guest's heart - boiled cabbage stuffed with rice, chopped lamb, and seasoned with exotic herbs and garlic...
Beautiful young Maggie Sparrow had been a wonderful cook, and her son, Captain Jack Sparrow, let his memory wander back over thirty years with the aromas of his own gypsy heritage and the dishes that his long dead mother would prepare... the Kerrigan clan was showing their gratitude to the most famous gypsy in Ireland by honouring him and William Turner the Second, Elizabeth Turner and Janie O'Madden with many kind words and many foods that had been the result of a successful hunt since the rescue of Allan and Betsy Kerrigan from the clutches of Portuguese slavers...
Jack simply had to get up from his place at the long wooden table and stretch, or he might embarrass himself by falling asleep... his thin frame was sure to fill out with such eating, he hoped... William delighted in pointing out the captain's slight build, and any weight added would be to his credit, he thought... He stretched a little, then patted his middle with both of his slender hands, as he leaned back from his hips and looked at all that was going on around him...
...William was now teaching some of the men in the tribe the art of throwing a sword, in order not to simply impress, but to defend one's self... every throw of William's sword was straight, swift and deadly, sticking perfectly into any target that he chose... he could produce the same lethal result with a hatchet or a dagger. It was, sadly, an art that was needed to be taught, as Jack had learned, first hand, just how cruel the world could be to his own race. His dark eyes watched his young first mate, as the crowd had gathered around him... gypsies had an uncanny way of knowing a lot about the world around them, and William had the utmost respect, as the former captain of the Flying Dutchman ... the Kerrigan clan had even addressed him as "Captain Will"... Jack was proud as he watched the young man... he deserved this respect, and as a result, William felt a great deal of kinship to these people who had embraced him as Jack's own half cousin.
As he walked about the encampment, the captain's face melted into a smile and his heart beat a little bit faster as he watched Elizabeth and his Janie... ahhh, his Janie... his oldest friend. He had finally told her how much he loved her... it had been obvious ever since he was three years old, and she was five, that they would be joined at the heart, and they had seen it all, together, him and his Janie, but it had taken every minute of his thirty seven years, and her thirty nine, to finally come right out and say, "I love you!" to each other... he observed this strong, auburn haired, blue eyed Irish lassie, regal of bearing and plain of dress, her freckled face laughing, as she and Elizabeth shared a story with the women of the tribe. He felt a warm, huge rush of affection wash over his black pirate heart... he thought that he had nearly lost her on the night of the rescue, but she had shown just how strong she was. His lassie... his Janie... it wasn't the rum going to his head that was making him unsteady on this glorious day, as he was unsteady without the rum... on this day, it was simply the sun, the kinship, the feeling of loving life! Well, and maybe some rum...
He found himself wandering the edge of the encampment, taking in the colours and the sights... his own memories flooding back into his addled mind... he had been brutally taken away from his life as the son of a beautiful gypsy girl and a distant pirate father, but was now making peace with it, at William's and Elizabeth's urging... this trip to Ireland had been a healing process... and now that Jack had professed his feelings to the woman who was the true love of his life, and was building a relationship with his father, Captain Edward Jonathan Teague, he never felt better in his life...
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"You are a bonnie lassie, aren't ye? Look at ye! Pretty as a mermaid, ye are!" Jack was delicately petting the soft muzzle of a small horse in the corral at the edge of the camp... she was well muscled and strong, and had carried him safely (albeit, bumpily, as his sore posterior end would attest) through the night forest of County Galway...
The little black mare nickered in a friendly fashion, her intelligent brown eyes watching his every move. The captain ran his hand appreciatively over her neck and back... she was the result of the Kerrigan's horse breeding, in order to develop an animal that would be suitable to their needs... and a beautiful horse she was. Glossy of coat, with a long silky tail and mane. She had a white blaze down her face, and all four legs had white stockings. Like all gypsy horses, she had long feathers of hair on her fetlocks to protect her ankles from briars, and it was a sight to see when the horses ran upon that night of the rescue... like feathery little wings upon their legs.
"It's too bad that I can't take ye wif me aboard me ship, lassie... ye proved your salt t' ol' Jack wif your courage an' fortitude..." Jack said, seriously, as he sneaked a small packet of sugar out of his pocket. The little mare's pink tongue lapped at it greedily, as Jack chuckled at her. Leaning in to her, he whispered, his eyes wide, "... I am greatly appreciative o' th' fact that ye didn't throw me, lass... " he cleared his throat, and whispered even more softly, "... ye see, I'm a bit afraid o' horses... I ... ummm... fall off a great deal, an' none too gracefully... thank ye for helping me keep face in front o' me own kind...it'd be embarrassing for a gypsy to fall off of a horse, no matter how legendary he is as a pirate..."
As the little mare regarded him, her ears pricked forward as if in surprise at his words, the captain stroked her neck, almost sadly. Jack had never traveled with his mother's own people, as he had been thrown out into a brutal and unknown world after her death, then he had made his own way out at sea after his father had rescued him from the chains of slavery...he had always regretted that he had not spent time with his own kind. He looked around the festive camp, and as he watched all that was going on around him, he said to the small horse, with a nod, "... I never learned t' ride very well, but you made me look good, savvy?"
He jumped back a bit in alarm as the spirited little horse tossed her head, as if in agreement... but he smiled, again, as she gently nuzzled his hand with her velvety nose. "... ahhh, that's th' lass... wonder if ye have a name?"
His thoughts were interrupted as one of the gypsies called out... they were all watching him, as he had been talking to and petting the horse that had become a member of his crew on that night of the daring rescue... the little mare that had carried him into even more legendary status among his mother's people. The gypsies had all raised their mugs, tankards and bottles to him from the campfire, and were shouting, "Here's to Captain Jack Sparrow! Huzzah to his first mate and the lasses that they love!"
As Jack stood up straight and proud, waving his own bottle, he shouted back, "And here's to me little black lassie, here! Wot's her name, mates? A better horse we'll never find!"
Padraig Kerrigan, the patriarch of the clan, raised his mug higher and shouted, "Here's to a good man an' his horse... 'Black Pearl'!"
Jack's mouth dropped open in astonishment, as he could hear William's laughter bursting through the crowd.
Turning back to the pawing black mare, who was tossing her head, again, the captain purred... "ahhhhh, no wonder!"
... and it was no wonder to the grateful Kerrigan family that the spirited black mare that had been Jack Sparrow's horse for only a few hours upon one fateful night, Black Pearl, would forever bear a long, artful braid in her mane, tied off with red string and two colourful beads... a gift from the most legendary gypsy of them all...
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