Disclaimer: I do not own Morrowind. Well, I own a copy of it, but the rights aren't mine. I do not own Jack Sparrow or anything affiliated with pirates of the Caribbean. I do own a copy of that too. This really is my (level 70 pride and joy) Morrowind character I'm writing about-sorta, see what I said before?-at least in that I called my Argonian Jack Sparrow. And combining POTC and MW was my idea.
A/N: This is a one-shot, meant to be sorta funny, at least at the end…WARNING! Many….Many…Spoilers ahead! And please review! If this is well-recieved, I might expand upon Jack's life in Morrowind and make a whole story out of it...
Jack Sparrow had been through many adventures. But this was a new thing all together. Even compared to living undeath. Laying on his back in a much-used bed in the Lucky Lockup Tavern in Balmora, he stared at the ceiling, reviewing.
In the space of about two years (two and a half? Three? Three years and a bit sounded better. Damn the lack of calendars around here. And clocks, even sundials for that matter. He had the hardest time keeping track of time around here!) Jack Sparrow had been caught by an English squadron off the coast of Martinique, brought to a prison colony and stayed there plotting escape for a few months.
Something happened that Sparrow did not expect. A letter of pardon on every single thing he'd ever done-including but not limited to impersonating a cleric of the church of England!-A pardon from The Emperor. What the hell Emperor would that be? Who the hell cared?! Jack didn't. He was just happy to be on his way anywhere but there.
When it turned out that he'd be going to "Morrerwin'" in a ship, things truly started to look up.
Following various acts of bureaucratic registration (and unseen nefarious acts of theft in unwatched corridors) he was turned loose with naught but some hideous prison clothes that really weren't his thing, a short, badly-made dagger that someone had called "chitin", (Whatever the hell chitin was.) and a crappy lock pick, and the skin on his back.
The skin on his back?
About that time, Jack Sparrow made a startling discovery. He had no skin. And no hair for that matter. Just scales. And a tail. And ear-frills pierced with gold rings. And claws. And fangs. And it was not long before he discovered (accidentally, having fallen out of a lighthouse. He wasn't quite used to this body yet.) That he could breath underwater.
He figured he'd roll with it. He always did. Granted, he'd never rolled with anything quite this odd before-it even beat out undeath by a long shot- but it could be worse. He might have been one of those giant cat-people. He had nothing against them. He actually felt most at home in the presence of these Argonian things and Khajiit. Rather disliked the slave-keeping Dunmer, though.
Anyhow, he quickly moved up in the world. It was like it was tailor-made for him. He was ecstatic when he discovered magic objects, and just when he started missing rum, matze showed up. When Jack started getting homesick for the Pearl, the Arrow filled up to fill the void.
And when he started missing Scarlet (and Giselle and Anna-Maria and Jennifer and Belle and Celia and…) Ahnassi appeared. It was a strange sensation to say the least. In all the things that had happened to him, the possibility of ending up in a steady relationship with a giant talking cat in a city called Pelagiad had never occurred to Jack for one moment. But there he was, literally running miles and running errands for this girl with a tail.
Jack moved on and moved up in the world. He was the master of the prestigious Fighter's Guild. Master Thief, taking the place of The Gentleman in the Thieves Guild. He saw the vaults of Lost Kogoruhn. Became a multimillionaire. Became the war-chief, the Nerevarine of four native Ashlander tribes. War-general of three of these Great House things. Jack really thought there had to have been better choices for the job, but, he figured, whatever floated their boat. He hunted Daedric god-beasts for kicks and cash. He freed countless slaves and left no stone on Vvardenfell unturned.
When it was time, Jack Sparrow gathered his supplies and his wits and went to Red Mountain to kill the Devil. To slay a god. But first…a more pressing business…
He approached the nice little house in Pelagiad, flicking his tail nervously. He hoped he'd gotten his research on the Morrowind custom on this right. He went in, greeted by Ahnassi's affectionate purring. He discussed his highly beneficial financial circumstances, his recent accomplishments,hisand what he was about to do at Red Mountain. And then the clincher. Jack, still nervous, but, practiced as he was, not showing it, told Ahnassi that if he ever came back…he'd marry her. That was unexpected. Even to him. Hell, he'd spent a good deal of time trying not to get married.
He met (again!) with the god-head, Vivec. Words were exchanged. The Wraithguard was his. And he went to Red Mountain. The Vampires fell. Sunder was his. Keening was his. And at the end of it all, in the pit of the mountain, beneath the crumbling Dwarven machine, Dagoth Ur was dead.
The next thing Jack Sparrow did was go to Ahnassi. He hoped he'd understood this world's rituals right. Stepping into her house, she greeted him, glad just to see him alive. Now, Jack Sparrow was never a man to have done anything by half. When he proposed to Ahnassi, he did it in style, saying like his life depended on it:
"I was brought here by carriage, then by boat.
Set loose with nothing but a dagger and a note.
Now I'm a millionaire, a war-general, an Ashlander Chief!
I'm the Fighters Guild Master and the Master Thief!
I hunt god-beasts, and vampires, the demon beneath Red Mountain!
I have been to Vivec City and seen its golden Fountains!
All this I did so that on this day,
You'd say "yes" when I say,
When I declare for all to see:
Ahnassi, will you marry me?!"
Ahnassi purred, thought, and, all things considered…said yes.
Jack and Ahnassi had no honeymoon. They got all the honeymoon they wanted running through the wildness, to Jack's rich residence in Nerano Manor in Balmora. He'd applied his unique sense of style to it. It was decorated with legendary weapons, outside and in, and lit with torches and candles all outside. Anything and everything Dwemer abounded. He had no non-Dwemer house hold objects.
In Jack's house, she was introduced to Jack's friends, who also had residence there. Nine-Toes, an Argonian and fellow Blade. Hull, an Argonian Pauper with no where else to go. Chuna, a fun-loving Argonian Bard. And One Dunmer lady, the maid, left without home or work, after the murder of her former master, so Jack had solved the mystery, brought the killer to justice,and brought her to work for him.
So after all of this, and everything he had, and how much blood and sweat he'd shed to get it, and after eloping with a lovely feline wife, why was it that Jack Sparrow, hero and protector of Vvardenfell and Tamriel was staring at the ceiling in The Lucky Lockup, just across the market plaza from his manor home?
Well, see, he'd had a little tiff with Ahnassi…