Shadows Over the Sea
By Illoria
Disclaimer: They're not mine... although I really wish that Jack was mine..! :D
----
Prologue
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"Not all men seek rest and peace, some are born with the spirit of the storm in their blood, knowing no other path." - The Stalker of the Sands
A man crept out of the captain's cabin on a very large ship, balancing four bottles of rum in his arms. A mischievous grin lit up his face as his brown eyes glinted gold as the moonlight caught them. He walked up to the helm and crept up in back of the man who was steering, and as soon as he was close enough, he said softly, "Boo."
Gibbs jumped in spite of himself, and turned around. "Jaaack," he said with a laugh. "Why you be creepin' around at nigh', sneakin' up on me, ey?"
Jack thrust a bottle of rum into Gibb's arms, and that said enough. "Take this to the crew."
"Wha', ye don't be wantin' any?" Gibbs asked, but he hurriedly grabbed the other three bottles of rum from Jack's arms.
Jack laughed heartily at the absurd notion of him not wanting any rum. "Of course I want some… er, or a bit more than some." Both of them laughed. "I'll be coming down."
"Why dun ye just wait and bring it to 'em yerself?" the man asked. "Then they won' be drinkin' up all the rum ye would've liked for yerself." He winked.
Jack folded his hands and said, "You see… that was why I was going back to my cabin to pick up two more bottles."
Gibbs laughed. "Alrigh', then, I'll be seein' yeh in a little while, Jack," he said, and left to bring the rum to the rest of the crew.
Jack grinned and went up to the bow and grasped the rail with both hands. After the sound of Gibbs' footsteps died away, the only sound was that of the ocean. The waves crashing against the sides of his ship. The gentle whisper of the sea spray. This was home.
Jack took a deep breath of salty air, closed his eyes, and exhaled with a small smile upon his lips. "It's you and me, love," he crooned to the ocean below. The ship swayed ever so slightly. His smiled widened and he opened his eyes, and they seemed brighter than before.
"A pirate's life for me," he sung softly, and he spun around and quickly made his way to his cabin, grabbed not two but three bottles of rum (just in case), and went to join the party.
He kicked open the door to the dining room with a flourish, stepped inside and sung loudly, "Drink up me hearties –"
"Yo ho!" the crew responded, lifting their rum glasses in the air.
Jack took his seat next to Gibbs.
"This is the life, ey?" Gibbs said with a slur in his voice as he took another large gulp of rum.
"I raise my bottle to that, mate," Jack said, doing as he said and then taking a swig.
**
Morning. The light pierced Jack's eyelids and went straight to his brain, sending a shock through his head and making it feel as if it had split in half. "Hangover," he mumbled, rolling out of his bed. He stood and rubbed his eyes. After taking a moment to fully wake up, and dressing, he pushed open the door of his cabin and stepped outside.
The crew was already busy doing their various jobs on the ship, rushing around, nodding to Jack as he passed them. He nodded back and smiled his quirky, mischievous little smile and kept walking.
"Anamaria!" he called out as a black woman with shoulder-length coarse black hair walked by. She scowled slightly. "Great fun last night eh?" Jack said, taking a long stride closer to Anamaria and resting his elbow on her shoulder. He gestured to the ship with a sweeping motion and said, "And a wonderful morning on the sea… eh?"
Anamaria had slipped out from under him and was now walking away. Jack shook his head and kept going.
Jack stopped and threw his arms open as Gibbs came toward him. Gibbs slapped Jack on the back and smiled as he said, "Aye, we thought ye might not wake up all day."
Jack shook his head and folded his hands. "Now that… that is where you have me wrong, Gibbs. You see, no matter how many bottles of rum I drink in a night…" He gestured with one hand to the ocean. "…I'll never let my lady down."
Gibbs laughed and nodded. "So… I guess we'll be settin' off today?" he asked hopefully.
Jack paused, then said, "I suppose so, Mr. Gibbs!"
Gibbs grinned widely. "Ye be wantin' me to steer?"
"No, no," Jack said. "I'll be steering today."
Gibbs nodded. "Alrigh', then, Jack!" he said. Another crew member called him over and off he went.
Jack sauntered back up to the helm and placed his hands gently on the wheel. He started humming as he looked out to sea, turning the wheel slightly this way and that.
It was when he was here, by himself for most of the day steering his ship, that he remembered things. Some of them were well worth remembering, good nights in bars with good mates and good rum; dinners with his crew; so many other times, and all the other days spent at the wheel, the only place where he felt he completely belonged.
But occasionally, the salty air that rushed over him would bring him something other than the good memories. It would bring him long nights spent alone, red-hot memories of anger. He had gotten his revenge on the blackhearted Barbossa, but the sting had never completely gone away. He had reclaimed his place as Captain of the Black Pearl – but his beloved ship sometimes creaked in just the right way to remind him of mutiny.
Then there were those memories that he preferred to kept hidden, buried away somewhere deep inside him. William Turner. Memories of him were bittersweet. They would've been among the good memories if Bootstraps' fate hadn't ruined it all. Jack sighed softly, and as he breathed in the smell of the ocean reassured him. He leaned back slightly, contented. A feeling of peace washed over him as the sea rocked the ship back and forth, as a mother rocks a baby back and forth in his crib. Jack smiled.
His hands continued to dance across the wheel, and his mind wandered into the past.
By Illoria
Disclaimer: They're not mine... although I really wish that Jack was mine..! :D
----
Prologue
----
"Not all men seek rest and peace, some are born with the spirit of the storm in their blood, knowing no other path." - The Stalker of the Sands
A man crept out of the captain's cabin on a very large ship, balancing four bottles of rum in his arms. A mischievous grin lit up his face as his brown eyes glinted gold as the moonlight caught them. He walked up to the helm and crept up in back of the man who was steering, and as soon as he was close enough, he said softly, "Boo."
Gibbs jumped in spite of himself, and turned around. "Jaaack," he said with a laugh. "Why you be creepin' around at nigh', sneakin' up on me, ey?"
Jack thrust a bottle of rum into Gibb's arms, and that said enough. "Take this to the crew."
"Wha', ye don't be wantin' any?" Gibbs asked, but he hurriedly grabbed the other three bottles of rum from Jack's arms.
Jack laughed heartily at the absurd notion of him not wanting any rum. "Of course I want some… er, or a bit more than some." Both of them laughed. "I'll be coming down."
"Why dun ye just wait and bring it to 'em yerself?" the man asked. "Then they won' be drinkin' up all the rum ye would've liked for yerself." He winked.
Jack folded his hands and said, "You see… that was why I was going back to my cabin to pick up two more bottles."
Gibbs laughed. "Alrigh', then, I'll be seein' yeh in a little while, Jack," he said, and left to bring the rum to the rest of the crew.
Jack grinned and went up to the bow and grasped the rail with both hands. After the sound of Gibbs' footsteps died away, the only sound was that of the ocean. The waves crashing against the sides of his ship. The gentle whisper of the sea spray. This was home.
Jack took a deep breath of salty air, closed his eyes, and exhaled with a small smile upon his lips. "It's you and me, love," he crooned to the ocean below. The ship swayed ever so slightly. His smiled widened and he opened his eyes, and they seemed brighter than before.
"A pirate's life for me," he sung softly, and he spun around and quickly made his way to his cabin, grabbed not two but three bottles of rum (just in case), and went to join the party.
He kicked open the door to the dining room with a flourish, stepped inside and sung loudly, "Drink up me hearties –"
"Yo ho!" the crew responded, lifting their rum glasses in the air.
Jack took his seat next to Gibbs.
"This is the life, ey?" Gibbs said with a slur in his voice as he took another large gulp of rum.
"I raise my bottle to that, mate," Jack said, doing as he said and then taking a swig.
**
Morning. The light pierced Jack's eyelids and went straight to his brain, sending a shock through his head and making it feel as if it had split in half. "Hangover," he mumbled, rolling out of his bed. He stood and rubbed his eyes. After taking a moment to fully wake up, and dressing, he pushed open the door of his cabin and stepped outside.
The crew was already busy doing their various jobs on the ship, rushing around, nodding to Jack as he passed them. He nodded back and smiled his quirky, mischievous little smile and kept walking.
"Anamaria!" he called out as a black woman with shoulder-length coarse black hair walked by. She scowled slightly. "Great fun last night eh?" Jack said, taking a long stride closer to Anamaria and resting his elbow on her shoulder. He gestured to the ship with a sweeping motion and said, "And a wonderful morning on the sea… eh?"
Anamaria had slipped out from under him and was now walking away. Jack shook his head and kept going.
Jack stopped and threw his arms open as Gibbs came toward him. Gibbs slapped Jack on the back and smiled as he said, "Aye, we thought ye might not wake up all day."
Jack shook his head and folded his hands. "Now that… that is where you have me wrong, Gibbs. You see, no matter how many bottles of rum I drink in a night…" He gestured with one hand to the ocean. "…I'll never let my lady down."
Gibbs laughed and nodded. "So… I guess we'll be settin' off today?" he asked hopefully.
Jack paused, then said, "I suppose so, Mr. Gibbs!"
Gibbs grinned widely. "Ye be wantin' me to steer?"
"No, no," Jack said. "I'll be steering today."
Gibbs nodded. "Alrigh', then, Jack!" he said. Another crew member called him over and off he went.
Jack sauntered back up to the helm and placed his hands gently on the wheel. He started humming as he looked out to sea, turning the wheel slightly this way and that.
It was when he was here, by himself for most of the day steering his ship, that he remembered things. Some of them were well worth remembering, good nights in bars with good mates and good rum; dinners with his crew; so many other times, and all the other days spent at the wheel, the only place where he felt he completely belonged.
But occasionally, the salty air that rushed over him would bring him something other than the good memories. It would bring him long nights spent alone, red-hot memories of anger. He had gotten his revenge on the blackhearted Barbossa, but the sting had never completely gone away. He had reclaimed his place as Captain of the Black Pearl – but his beloved ship sometimes creaked in just the right way to remind him of mutiny.
Then there were those memories that he preferred to kept hidden, buried away somewhere deep inside him. William Turner. Memories of him were bittersweet. They would've been among the good memories if Bootstraps' fate hadn't ruined it all. Jack sighed softly, and as he breathed in the smell of the ocean reassured him. He leaned back slightly, contented. A feeling of peace washed over him as the sea rocked the ship back and forth, as a mother rocks a baby back and forth in his crib. Jack smiled.
His hands continued to dance across the wheel, and his mind wandered into the past.