Flight with a Sparrow
AN: Post At Worlds End. Jack returns to Port Royale and meets you (this story is written in 2nd person). You both hit off really well, and head off to the Fountain of Youth.
Jack watched Gibbs stroll off with Scarlett and Giselle. He smiled to himself; at least they were off his back now. He wandered over to a stall selling shoes and picked up a particularly shiny leather pair. He slowly turned around, hoping no one would see him and at first it seemed that was indeed the case. He walked down the cobbled street, getting quicker and quicker, until he was finally running full pelt!
He collapsed in an alleyway breathing heavily, feeling thoroughly smug at his latest theft. He held them up and examined them. They glimmered in the sunlight, which was starting to get dimmer; it would be dark soon. Jack stood up, with the intention of finding an inn to stay to the night. It was a shame he wasn't in Tortuga; there you could get away with drunken riots, whereas Port Royale taverns were better known for their exemplary table manners…
It was a lazy summer evening in Port Royale, and you were sitting at your shoe stall watching the ships going past. It was hard not to keep dozing off, and you were just about managing for the time being. But your chair was so comfortable, and it was so warm….
When you awoke later, it was nightfall and all the other traders had gone home to bed. Hastily you scrambled up, and knocked your chair over in the process. You started to pack up your things, only to find that your most expensive pair had gone missing! Frantically, you searched around the stall table, but to no avail. You groaned and buried your head in your hands. They must have been stolen, you realised. Still, it was no good fretting about it, so you decided to head to the Cow and Bell Inn where you were staying.
Just as Jack reached an Inn, the heavens opened, releasing their burden with almighty force. He pushed open the door and hurried inside. The scene that lay before him was a most welcoming one; a roaring log fire in the corner warmed the room, which was furnished with comfortable looking armchairs. There wasn't anyone there, apart from a quivering old man who was muttering something about sea turtles and wringing his hands in an agonised manner. Jack shook his head sadly, remembering the way Davy Jones's crew had slowly gone mad, becoming a part of the ship itself. He settled himself in the far corner, gazing into the fire as he recounted the past few months. True, they had been eventful, but too many lives had been lost; all because of that bloody Norrington. Still, he was dead now and that was all that mattered.
Just then, the tavern door swung open, revealing a drenched young woman. She shook her wet hair and flopped exhaustedly into a nearby chair. Jack eyed her curiously.
"Stayin' here too luv?" he enquired. She smiled tiredly at him and nodded.
Great, you think, as the sky started bucketing rain down on you. You broke into a run, and didn't stop until you got to the Cow and Bell. You stepped inside and shook your hair, trying to get it dry. You weren't surprised to see old Mr. Farthing, the village crackpot, sitting in the corner as usual. But there was a new occupant. A man with black hair sat by the fire, staring right at you. You sat down near him, and he asked her whether she was staying at the Inn too. Well it's a bit bloody obvious, you thought to yourself. But you replied with a polite nod none the less. As you looked at him, you noticed his attire, or rather his foot attire.
"My Shoes!!" You cry in anger.
