I posted this about a year or so ago, but perfectionism reared it's ugly head and told me "You could have done better with that." Plus there were some time-line issues and the fact that I wanted to give it a better plot than before.
For those who have not read the original version of "Where You Lead" or "Winter", this one takes place after Curse of the Black Pearl and before Dead Man's Chest. Actually, the beginning of the story occurs not even two weeks after Jack sailed away from Port Royal on the Black Pearl, saved from the noose thanks to William Turner and Elizabeth Swann.
Now, some disclaimers: Of course I don't own the characters created by the writers and actors, just the ones I created. This is an orignal story, not an "OC in the movie" fic. Re-Writing those will come next. If you, dear reader, are the sort that likes a womanizing, completely self-absorbed, Elizabeth-loving Jack Sparrow then sorry, you won't find it here. Apart from some creative liscense that I take with the character's backgrounds, the movie characters are written as they were meant to be seen by Johnny, Keira, Orlando, etc.
Alright, now onto "Where You Lead: The Much More Better Version"
It was early March, and while in some areas of the northern hemisphere can expect to be cold at this time of year, the Caribbean is usually warm year-round. But upon this particular night in Tortuga, most of the residents of the island either huddled in their homes or simply ordered up another pint or bottle to keep warm and try to claim a table by one of the fireplaces.
The soiled doves squeezed their way into the taverns to ply their trade there instead of in the streets and hoped the men they managed to snag had a room and they wouldn't have to go back out in the damp cold that could make ones bones ache. Then they'd take what they earned to go back into the tavern to buy something that would give them some warmth and had the added benefit of letting them forget what they just did to earn the coin that financed their binge.
Not everyone ran to the taverns though, and in a house (really it was a shack) just barely on the edge of the seediest part of town, a young woman of seven and twenty with curly strawberry-blonde hair in a bun bent over a whale-oil lantern she was desperately trying to light. There were no glass panes in the window to keep the cold gusts of wind out, and this added to the young woman's frustration as she once again tried to light the wick.
When she struck the flint again, the flame illuminated her fine, delicate features that were the mark of high-class breeding and sky blue eyes that were now bright and shining with frustrated tears.
"Oh come on, will ye light already? What I wouldn't give for a stone fireplace and basket o' peat right 'bout now! But no, ye had t' have that fool idea of running away from home to this spit of land what God forgot. And look where that got ye, Shannon O'Malley! Should have stayed in Ireland!" As she spoke to herself, she briefly lifted her eyes to glare at the girl-child across the room from her who made not a noise, save for the rasp of broom fibers against the wood floor.
Save for the child's small, delicate frame and blue eyes, it was hard to believe she was related to the woman who was fixing her with such a look of bitter disappointment and disgust. With skin the color of brown sugar that was sprinkled with freckles, and long ringlet curls of rich ebony, her coloring was nothing like her mother's, and even her wide, round blue eyes were a darker shade and a different shape. Her high, fine cheekbones were rather pronounced, for they were both underweight due to being severely starved and malnourished, and either the malnourishment or genetics had made the child at least a head shorter than other nine year old girls.
"Jade, stop daydreaming and get back to the sweeping!" The girl jumped at her mother's harsh tone and nodded.
"Aye, Mama, I'm sorry." The child's quiet, timid voice carried the same soft Irish lilt that her mother's did.
"How many times have I told you not t' say 'aye'? Tis 'yes' not 'aye'. I am not raising a pirate!" Clutching the broom handle tighter, Jade nodded.
"Sorry Mama." The broom's handle was too tall for her to easily maneuver it but she never complained because she knew it would do no good. Her mama would only yell more. Knowing she was already agitated with the whale-oil lantern she bought earlier today when it was apparent that it would be a cold evening, Jade stayed quiet and returned to the daydream she'd been lost in before her mama scolded her.
Just like every other daydream she had, it involved her daddy, or how she imagined him to be. She'd never met him, didn't even know what his name was or what he did for a living, but she was pretty sure he wasn't someone of high society if they met in Tortuga. Not that it really mattered to her what social class he was from, though to be honest she often daydreamed that he was a merchant, fisherman or sailor because she liked the idea of having a father who sailed the seas and would come home and tell her stories of places he'd been and bring her little treasures. Nothing too spectacular, she'd be happy with just a pretty seashell, but just a small something to let her know he thought of her while he was away.
Sometimes she'd lay in bed imagining that he'd come in and "kidnap" her, telling her not to be afraid because he was her daddy and if she hurried up and didn't make a sound, he'd take her away to someplace nice and love her forever.
Jade wondered if anyone in town knew who her daddy was, and if they'd ever tell him that he had a little girl. Her mama had never bothered contacting him to let him know that he'd fathered a child that night and had very loudly refused the one time Jade had dared to suggest it.
It had been near three days without one bite to eat, the landlord hounding her mama for the rent that was far overdue. He'd come in that afternoon and an eight year old Jade had wondered, while remaining hidden by the tablecloth resurrected from a sailcloth, if her mama had any sense at all. Did she not have any control over the thoughts that would come flying out of her mouth or did she just not care that the landlord would hit her, again? She'd passionately yelled at the man, "Don't know why you're bothering collecting rent on this poor excuse for a 'cottage' anyway! It's not even fit for a pig to live in!"
When the landlord left after smacking her mother soundly across the face and sending her sprawling, Jade crept out from under the table and quietly fetched some water and managed to find a clean rag she'd washed the day before. Though her mama hated when Jade touched her, she allowed the child to clean the cut left by the landlord's ring.
"Mama, why do you talk back to him like that? You know he's going to hit you." Her mama said nothing, just stared at the ceiling as Jade gently washed the blood from the cut. "We need more money, Mama. If we could pay just a little I'm sure the landlord will leave us alone. Maybe there's something else we could do to get more money." Her mother finally looked at her and narrowed her eyes.
"And what's your brilliant idea, Jade O'Malley? Jade hesitated, not quite sure how this idea would be received, but she simply had to suggest it, just in case.
"Well, we could try to contact Daddy, and if you tell him that one night with him created a baby, a little girl, he'll come back here and help us. I know he will. Maybe, if he has a ship, he'll take you back to Ireland, and I can stay with him since…"Jade trailed off, sadly, "You don't want me." Jade looked up, hoping against hope that maybe her mama would feel bad for making her feel so unloved, but of course that hard, cold glare was in her icy blue eyes.
"Stop feeling sorry for yourself! And I don't ever, ever want to hear another word about contacting your father again, you hear?" Jade nodded and shrunk away as her mama's voice rose more and more. "I don't care if we starve to death; I don't need anyone's help! Least of all his! I won't take his filthy, dishonestly earned money! Not even a penny, do you understand?" Jade was cowering now; for even though her mama had never hit her before…well there was always a first time and her mother had a very frightening temper and a dangerously short fuse. "Now get back to your chores and earn your keep, missy!"
Jade had found it rather odd that her mother would refuse her daddy's money for being what she assumed to be dishonestly earned. Didn't she realize that the money used to pay for the candles she made must have at one point been stolen or dishonestly earned? What was the difference between taking the money from the residents and other businesses of Tortuga and her daddy?
The difference, she knew, was that her mama just had no choice when it came to the shop. People wanted to buy the candles and the shop had to stay in business, and they had to eat. The couple that owned the shop had gotten very frustrated with her mama in recent years, as her uppity ways and preaching had driven customers away, and the shop was not making nearly as much money as it used to. Mr. Peters had even decided to punish her mama by shorting her wages and sometimes just not paying her at all, telling her she'd get paid properly when she "behaved herself and shut her fool mouth."
Many times Jade had tried to convince her mama to stop angering Mr. Peters so they could have food in their mouths, but her mama refused, stating that she would not compromise her beliefs and integrity in such a way, nor would she allow Jade's religious and moral upbringing to be jeopardized by people like them. "If God wants us to eat, he'll provide us with honest means to do so, until then we'll just have to be martyrs, won't we?" Jade would never say it, but she'd rather be full than a martyr.
Just then, her stomach growled, reminding her that she was decidedly not full at the moment but they had not a single crumb so she'd have to suffer. As she struggled with the broom with the handle far too long for a child her size to manage, Jade watched her mama fight with the lantern. Though the ten years and nine months in Tortuga had been harsh, and her mother had been forced to work with her hands for a living to make candles and soap, and keep a house without servants (though she did treat her own child like one), Shannon O'Malley's complexion was still perfect and her small frame gave no evidence that she'd ever born a child. The blue-gray gown she wore about eleven years ago when she landed in Tortuga was now faded and no longer fit her properly, for she lost a great deal of weight since she gave birth to Jade and couldn't fill it out properly. Yet she always carried herself with pride and dignity as if she were still in Ireland, riding in her family's carriage on the way to Mass.
Jade didn't even have to look down at her own shabby brown dress that was worn through in many places and too short for her, nor look in a mirror to know that her looks were nothing special compared to her mother's. Whenever they went into town so her mama could work in the candle shop, or to buy something when her mama was paid, Jade would look around at the other people. The women in the pretty, colorful dresses that showed what her mama called "a sinful amount of skin" painted their faces white and the dolls in the milliner's window that wore small versions of the latest fashions were the same porcelain white as her mama.
Looking down at her hands holding the broomstick, Jade felt the backs of her eyes sting as she thought, Maybe, if I'd been born fair and beautiful, Mama might have loved me. There had been a time when Jade did everything she was told and behaved with the hope her mother would start to love her. That stopped the day she'd told her mama she loved her. All her mama did was sneer and snap at her to get back to the washing. Hurt, Jade had asked, "Do you love me at all, Mama? Even a little?"
Looking at her as if she were a bug, her mother had answered coldly, "How can anyone love a pebble in their shoe?" With tears rolling down her cheeks, Jade had obediently gone back to washing the pitiful amount of laundry they had. She still did as she was told and was on her best behavior, but now it was only to keep her mama from yelling at her.
The sound of her mother cursing in another language caught Jade's attention. She'd heard her mother yell at people in words she didn't understand, and from the looks of it, neither did the other people. Her mother had never taught her that language, or even told her what language it was, and Jade had a feeling that it was because her mama didn't want her to understand certain things. Hesitantly moving closer to the table where the lantern and bottle of whale-oil sat, Jade tried to see what had frustrated her mama so much.
From the wet, slick trail that made its way down the table and onto the floor, Jade could see that some oil had run down the side of the bottle after more had been poured into the lantern. Jade wondered if her mama had paid attention to the shopkeeper when they tried to teach her how to use it, for she was sure that constantly adding oil wasn't going to make it light any sooner, just burn longer once it was lit.. The little puddle on the table wasn't even much but for her very meticulous mother who hated for anything to be dirty or out of order, it was just one more irritating thing, and apparently enough to make her curse in her secret language.
"M-m-Mama? Maybe we don't really need the lantern. It's just one night, you know. We could just wrap the blankets around us an' sit really close so we can keep each other warm, as well…maybe even snuggle, a bit. It's just for one night…" Jade trailed off when her mother's ice-cold eyes bore into her and she hissed low between her teeth.
"What in the world makes you think I'd want to snuggle under some blankets with you? Whatever gave ye that impression? Tell me, when was the last time you remember me touching you in any way that could be mistaken as loving?" Backing away from her mother, Jade clutched the handle of the broom tighter in her anxiety.
"N-never, Mama. I just thought-" She was cut off by her mother's cruel smile and even crueler words.
"That's what you get for trying to think with that tiny little brain of yours. Now be quiet and get back to the sweeping, and let me worry about this pitiful excuse for a lamp!" Jade nodded, the backs of her eyes stinging as she backed away.
"Aye-I mean yes, Mama." As she turned to get back to the sweeping, the unwieldy broom started to slip and as Jade tried to right it again, the fan of bristles tripped her up. With nothing to grab onto, Jade was sent sprawling onto the floor and she let go of the broom and Jade was forced to watch in horror as the handle knocked against a small side table that held the only thing of value they owned.
It was a vase of a sort of porcelain that had a name Jade could not recall, but it was the only thing her mama had brought from her home in Ireland; the only thing she had that held any sort of sentimental value and therefore could never be sold, despite the amount of money it would bring them and the food that could be bought with it.
It teetered dangerously on the table, almost in slow motion, it seemed, before it fell on its side with a sound that told Jade that it had chipped. That was bad enough, to be sure, but then the vase rolled back and forth a few times, seeming to gain momentum before it rolled to the edge of the table with agonizing slowness and the burning in Jade's lungs reminded her that she'd been holding her breath all this time, but even now she couldn't breathe. Not wanting to see what happened next, she shut her eyes tight, her whole face screwed up with dread, bracing herself…
CRASH! The high, terrible sound of valuable, beautiful porcelain breaking invaded Jade's ears and without even looking, she knew the vase would be shattered into millions of pieces that could never be put together again, much like that Humpty Dumpty rhyme she heard a couple of children chanting by the market.
The next thing Jade knew, her mother's thin hand gripped her arm painfully tight and yanked up upwards. "You did that on purpose!" Jade shook her head wildly.
"No Mama! Twas an accident, I swear! I tripped over the broom and lost hold of it! I didn't mean for it to happen, I-" Crack! Jade gasped in pain and shock when her mother's hand struck her across the face. Despite Shannon's past cruelty towards her child, she'd never, EVER struck her before. Pushed and shoved, yanked even, but never struck, and despite her mama's small, delicate build, there was more than enough force behind the slap to hurt and bruise the small child's cheek. As Jade covered her cheek with her hand, tears sprung to her already stinging eyes as her mother started to scream at her, this time in English to make sure Jade understood her.
"You clumsy, stupid little wretch! You're just as pathetically inept as your father, and just as worthless t' me! The only reason I kept you all these years was t' help me round the house and ye can't even do that without destroying the only thing in th' world that means anything to me! That vase is worth more than your life, you lazy, selfish little brat! I bet you're glad ye broke that, aren't you? AREN'T YOU?" Jade, crying and trying to keep her sobs quiet, was biting her nails, something she did when she was scared, anxious or nervous and she was all three, now. Unfortunately, this was another habit of hers that her mother despised.
"Stop that! How many times have I told ye not t' bite your nails? I swear, you're just like the no good, dirty pirate that fathered ye and letting him get me drunk and seduce me was the worst mistake I ever made! You're the worst mistake I ever made! I should have drowned ye when I had the chance!" Her words rendered Jade absolutely speechless, for though her mother had said plenty of mean things, nothing had been this cruel and heartless!
Through the hurt, though, Jade felt anger boiling up inside her. It wasn't fair! She never asked to be born! It wasn't her fault her mama ended up here, for she wasn't even born yet! Her mama was the one who made the decision let a man take her to bed without being married first and she always blamed it on her! The unfairness made Jade's usually dormant temper flare and boil over.
"No! Stop it!" Jade's arms were straight at her sides, her small hands in tight fists as she stomped her foot on the floor. "Stop blaming all your problems on me! It's not fair! It's not my fault you're stuck here, it's yours! You're the one who made all the bad choices, but you won't even admit that you're the one who got us stuck here, not me! Maybe you should have never let him get you drunk! Maybe you should just let me go find my daddy since you don't want me!"
Slap! Jade's hand flew up to her right cheek this time, for she'd just been backhanded this time and it hurt even more than the first. Instead of making her cry, it only served to make the anger boil up even more. Before she could say anything, her mama spoke.
"If I don't want you, what makes you think that a filthy scoundrel like those you see wandering these streets, drunk, is going to want you? You're a bigger mistake to HIM than you are to ME!" Tears flowed from Jade's eyes as she again stomped her foot and fisted her hands.
"I HATE YOU! I hate you and I hope I never, ever see you again!" Turning on her heel, Jade yanked the flimsy door of their cottage open and slammed it shut, hard as she ran from their house in tears.
Running as fast as she could, Jade pushed past the few people who were in the streets, not even paying attention to them as she ran for the docks. She was forbidden to go there, but she didn't care anymore! Maybe there would be a boat and she could take it and row away and find her daddy! Or at least someone who knew who he was. If nothing else, she'd at least be away from her mean mama.
When Jade reached the docks, she was panting hard and out of breath, and her throat was raw from crying. There were no boats that she could row away and she didn't know how to work a boat with sails. As Jade sank to her knees on the docks and cried quietly, she realized how foolish her plan had been in the first place. Even if she could row away, it would be dangerous to go up to every ship with a pirate flag and ask them for her daddy.
Wiping her tears from her eyes, Jade shifted to sit on the edge of the dock and dangle her feet over the edge. Lifting a hand to her cheek, she winced when her fingers pressed too firmly on the place where her mama hit her. What really hurt was that Jade had no way of getting off this island, and no better options available on it. No one would want her, anyway. Thinking of her mother's harsh words that she should have drowned her at birth, she stared bitterly at her reflection in the waters lapping at the supports for the dock. Her mama didn't want her either, apart from free labor and someone to take her verbal and now physical abuse.
As she sniffled and took deep, gulping breaths, a figure appeared beside her. It was the same figure that was conjured up by her imagination every time she was sad and lonely. Since she wasn't allowed to make friends with the other children of the island, and they didn't like her anyway, Jade had used her vivid imagination to create an imaginary friend.
His name was Jack. She couldn't even remember where she heard that name before, but she'd liked it. It sounded like a good name for someone who was fun, charming and nice, which is what she decided her friend would be. He had the same complexion as she did but with no freckles, and though he was the same age, he was taller by a head and had curly black hair that reached his shoulders. He was funny, warm and friendly with a ready smile, but his best feature were the warm dark brown eyes that she'd given him. She wasn't even sure why she'd given him brown eyes instead of any other color; she just knew that for some reason those big, round brown eyes could always make her feel better.
"Don't cry, Jade. Your mama's just a mean ol' lady that doesn't like to admit she's wrong. Don't lose hope. He'll find you someday and will love you more than anything else."
Jade was about to reply when heavy, clumping boot steps vibrated the boards and stopped right behind her. Without any more warning, the back of her dress and some of her hair was gripped tightly as someone hauled her to her feet. The man standing over her had a big, bumpy red nose and deeply set beady black eyes, like a pig's, and the teeth he had were yellowed or blackened and made Jade cringe when he breathed on her.
"Wot are ye doin' 'ere, girly? Street rats ain't allowed on th' docks! Git lost b'fore I throw ye t' the sharks!" With a hard shove, he pushed Jade towards the road, sending her tumbling to the ground.
Picking herself up, Jade brushed the dirt from her scraped hands and winced. Stopping at a trough of water for horses, she did the best she could to wash the dirt out of the scrapes and winced. At least no horses were here. Jade was sure they wouldn't want her washing her dirty hands in their drinking water.
Satisfied that her hands were clean, Jade sighed and headed back to the house but taking her time. She really didn't want to live there anymore and endure her mama's mean words, but she had already admitted to herself that she had no choice but to shuffle home.
A cold wind pushed her along, chilling her to her bones as the dampness seemed to almost slither past the thin, worn threads of her pitiful dress and through her skin to freeze her from the inside out. Oh what she wouldn't give for her daddy to be right there, to wrap her up and hold her tight, keeping her warm as he carried her home to tuck her into a warm bed and cover her up with a warm blanket.
Shivering again, Jade gritted her teeth and rubbed her arms to try to bet rid of the goose bumps on her own. The miserable cold and her sore, bruised cheeks gave Jade new resolve. She may not be able to go find her daddy now, but someday she would be old enough to go off on her own and she'd do anything she could to find him. Even if it took her until she was a grown woman, she would keep looking, forever, just because she just wanted to know who he was and find the other pieces to the puzzle of what really happened the night she was created.
Until then, though, Jade would keep wishing that someone other than her mother would know who her daddy was and would tell him about his little girl who needed him very, very much so that he could come and save her. Even now she smiled a little, imagining that he'd come out of the shadows and turn her to look at him. When he'd see that she was truly his, he'd scoop her up and hug her tightly, saying "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, I just didn't know about you!" And she'd say, "I know, Daddy, I'm just glad you're here."
The sound of gunshots going off somewhere behind her made her squeal and jump, forcing her to snap out of her daydream and she realized she was closer than she'd like to be to her home, but at least away from the dangerous Tortuga city.
Shivering again, not just from the cold but from the thought that someone had just been killed, she tried to conjure "Jack" up again but just couldn't for now her mind was working overtime trying to come up with an almost acceptable apology. Nothing would be good enough, that she knew, but maybe if it was almost good enough, her mama wouldn't yell quite so much. She might even let her back in, even if it was just because she had more housework to do and didn't want to do it herself.
Looking up, Jade saw the street sign and knew she was almost home. She couldn't read, but she'd remembered how each sign looked on the way home. This one hung by one chain and looked like the edge that was dangling had been burnt by a torch. With a snort, Jade couldn't help but think, "And Mama calls ME careless!"
A few more gunshots firing in the distance and some screams, curses and return fire made Jade walk faster. The sooner her daddy came for her to take her away from here, the better! Their house was now within view and from the looks of the dark windows; the lantern had still not been lit. Jade sighed. It looked like it would be a very cold night…
Before Jade could take another step towards the house, the current silence of the dark night was broken when she heard her mama not scream in frustration, but horror, and she heard the sound of a glass jar break. A glass jar? What was left in the house that was made of glass and could break?
It was like an explosion, the sound of more glass not just breaking but shattering and flying everywhere, and a terrible burst of orange and red tongues of flame licked and searched for something, anything it could consume. The table, chairs…then Jade remembered the bit of oil that had spilled on the table and the floor near…
"MAMA!" Terrified, Jade started towards the house to tell her mama to get out. "Mama! Mama get-"
The next blast was sudden and the scream terrible as it filled the night with the sound of agonizing pain that came from someone being burned, alive. It stole Jade's breath from her lungs in one sudden gasp of horrible shock, leaving her wide-eyed, gaping and trembling violently as the scream echoed in her ears after it died…
Jade couldn't breathe, move or even think beyond one terrible thought…
Her mama was dead, killed in a fire…and it was all her fault…
To be continued…