Pirates of the Caribbean drabble thing - not entirely sure where this is headed but oh well!
Arrivals
The setting sun cast a shimmering glow over the vast expanse of the ocean. A toy boat floated against the line of the horizon, dipping up and down with the ebb and flow of the tide. Aboard it was a man, a pirate set sail on his destiny to freedom, but the path to happiness was not to be an easy one.
Jack flipped open the compass and raised a suspicious eyebrow. For the last few days the compass had changed its course and taken a familiar route that Jack knew well – the one to Tortuga. He had thought he had been well on his way to the Fountain of Youth but now he seemed to be travelling in circles. He knew what his wish was – to be eternal, he was sure of that, but for once the compass disagreed. Jack was content to follow it considering it had always served him well in the past but he was unsure how going back to Tortuga could lead him to the Fountain of Youth. He took a swig from his rum bottle. Rum. He was running low. Tortuga had plentiful supplies of rum. Jack smiled to himself. Maybe the compass did know him well after all. His grin soon faded though. If he kept doing this, he'd never find the fountain. It must be something else, so once again, Jack adjusted the sails and altered his route back to Tortuga to discover what the compass was leading him to.
The rocking of the ship acted as a cradle to the men aboard, sending them to sleep into a dream world of pillagering, plundering and hearty lasses, apart from one. Hector Barbossa stood against the edge of the Pearl, watching the waves glisten and sparkle in the moonlight. Sleep wouldn't come that night and so he returned to his usual place on deck, where he was alone. His hands traced the rough, splintered wood of the Pearl, his home. He was finally lifted from the dreadful curse that had haunted his days and nights, but he had been unable to find happiness. His chances of finding the Fountain of Youth were virtually non-existent now that Sparrow had managed to escape with the charts. Jack Sparrow. God, how he hated that man. No matter what situation they were in, he managed to take from Barbossa what he dearly wanted and throw a spanner in the works, but Barbossa knew he had to find Jack to have any chance of finding the Fountain of Youth. As much as he despised the man, they had managed to work together briefly before in times of need. They could bargain, he thought, come to an agreement. With that decision made he made his way back to bed, hoping to change course tomorrow and visit Tortuga. They most likely wouldn't find Jack but perhaps they could find someone who did know where he was.
Dawn broke over the ocean. The pale yellow of the sun shone over the ocean, illuminating the dull skies and those beneath them. Beneath deck, men were stirring on the Pearl but Barbossa was already wide awake, alone in his cabin. He was stood beside a relatively small, black cabinet, deep in thought. He reached a hand into one of his deep pockets and brought out a tiny, rusting key. He spit on it before inserting it into the tarnished lock of the cabinet and turning it. At first it wouldn't open but after some grinding and manoeuvring of the key it clicked. He withdrew it and put it back into the depths of his coat before pausing his hand over the lid. He lifted it and pulled out the violin that was nestled amongst other objects. One string had been snapped but three were intact. He plucked once, the sound echoing around the empty cabin. The bridge was wonky and part of the body was smashed. The bow had numerous hairs hanging from it. It had been neglected for a few years now and it had gone into a state of disrepair. It disheartened him slightly to think how it's owner would feel if they knew their beloved instrument had turned into this, but before he would let any sign of emotion flicker in his supposedly cold heart, he placed the violin back into the cabinet and slammed the lid down before turning on his heel out of the cabin.
"Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum," Jack murmured as he tightened the rope, adjusting the sails. He stood up, swayed slightly, raising an arm to shield his eyes from the glare of the early morning sun. A smile turned the corners of Jack's mouth as he saw the island of Tortuga in the distance. The last dregs of rum were sloshing around in the bottle as the small wooden boat rocked violently against the waves. Jack picked it up and swallowed the remaining contents. He sat down, still humming to himself as he rolled up the charts for the Fountain and tucked them beneath his coat. Considering it hadn't been long since he had left Tortuga, Jack wondered what had changed. The place didn't hold much for him anymore, apart from various half hearted encounters with the island's finest women and drinks in the various noisy bars, but he couldn't imagine that it would be anywhere near enough to lure him away from the fountain. Only time would tell.
"Haul the main braces, you scurvy landlubbers. We're making an about turn back to Tortuga, gen'lemen." Barbossa had gone below deck, rousing the sleeping crew and disrupting the peace and quiet. Whilst dazed crew members fell out of their hammocks and stumbled up the steps, Barbossa swept back up above deck. The sun was already beaming down on them and the clouds were clearing, leaving a brilliantly clear, azure sky behind. Barbossa smiled to himself. He was in good spirits about the rest of the day, although he wasn't sure why. Perhaps Tortuga would prove to be a successful visit.
A tall figure strode through the busy inn. The day had barely begun but it was already filling with customers, many of which were still laying slumped against a table or in a corner from the night before. Pulling their hat low, the figure made their way towards the bar before resting on a stool whist taking subtle glances around the room. "Shiver me timbers!" Grace, the voluptuous barwoman expressed a wide-eyed look as she turned around and took in the appearance of the person sitting in front of her. "It can't be!" The person lowered their head slightly before taking their hat off to release the long chestnut curls that lay beneath it. "It is you!" The woman smiled.
"I knew you'd recognise me Grace."
"Where've you been all these years?"
"Long story. Very long and very complicated," she laughed. "But I think it's over now. So you might be seeing a lot more of me again."
"Well you'll never guess who was here not long back."
The girl raised her eyebrows expectantly.
"Barbossa. And Jack Sparrow."
"Together?"
"I don't think so. Both turned up at the same time thought after that whole business with Davy Jones."
"Ahh yes, I heard about that vaguely."
"Nasty business it was. But at least us pirates are back to the way we were, without being controlled by anyone."
"Yeah, a relief." The woman smiled a beautiful smile, flashing surprisingly white teeth. "When did they leave?"
"Why, must have been yesterday or the day before."
The girl's expression faltered slightly and her eyes widened. "That soon?"
"Yes, neither of 'em stayed long though."
"Hmm," the girl replied, lost in thought. "I'll be back later Grace," she said whilst tipping the hat back onto her head, pulling it low again and leaving the inn, leaving a bemused Grace wiping down the bar.
The island of Tortuga was growing steadily closer and Jack could almost hear the sounds coming from it; the drunken calls and shouts of the filthy men (and women), the music leaking from the inns and bars and the brawls, fights and arguments that took place regularly. It was a rowdy, loud, brash and unpleasant place mainly, but Jack always took pleasure in coming back there. Before he knew it, he was reaching the port, the boat gently bumping up against the worn, rough wood. The dingy creaked as he stepped out and reached to stuff a few bottles of rum and the map under his jacket, before he turned around then headed towards the town.
"Land ho Captain!" The sound travelled down from the crow's nest, pleasing Barbossa. They were at Tortuga now and hopefully they could begin to find their way to the Fountain of Youth before long. The familiar sights of the island met his eyes as he shielded them away from the sun and looked towards what lay ahead.
The girl with the chestnut hair paced up and down the beach. She had missed them both only by a few days. Why couldn't they have waited just a bit longer? She was itching for freedom after years of.. years of being in hiding she supposed and now she wanted to sail back to the open ocean, to feel the wind through her hair and taste the salty breeze on her lips. She wanted to feel the sun beat down on her whilst standing on deck, exploring new islands and new places, before being rocked to sleep each night. She missed the life of a pirate and wanted it back. If she had known her chance of becoming one again was so close, she would have made her way into Tortuga days before to meet them. Damn them, she thought. They always did make things complicated. Sighing, she sat down on a nearby rock, fingers tracing through the sands, letting the grains slip through her fingers. She'd done enough waiting, she decided. She was moments away from the port – she could easily take a small dinghy and set out on a journey for herself. Either that, or ask some gullible Captain to take her aboard his ship. Not quite having made her mind up, she decided to head for the port anyway. She continued to think her situation through on the way, at one point reaching into her pocket to take out an old, slightly tarnished locket. She could smell the metal but after a quick wipe on her clothes, there was still a slight gleam on it. She slipped it around her neck, holding it before letting it drop against her chest and continuing on her way.