Autor's Notes: This Idea popped into my head one night when I was day-dreaming, so I decided to write it out to keep it from become one of the many thoughts my Muse have fed me that are becoming a jumbled mess up there (Though there's lots of room for them)!
Please excuse the title, it mearly gives the center character's relation to the actual characters and I couldn't think of a better one!
A Pirate's Daughter
A single diamond tear dripped off her cheek as she stared, still unwilling to accept the grave in front of her.
Captain Jack Sparrow
William Turner, Jr.
James Norrington
The three names were carved in the base of a large tree above the respective bodies, each man's sword lie with the hilt above what would be the heart. The grave site was on a hill facing out over the ocean on the back side of the island.
It was a beautiful spot that Skye visited during her childhood to watch the sunset and dream of the pirate's life Jack led, and how opposite a life James led, and how her father seemed to be the link between the two men. It seemed fitting to her that this should be the final resting place of the three men, honorable in their own rights, who fought and died, in the end, together for what was right.
A fresh wave of tears clouded her eyes as the nearly empty rum bottle fell from her hand and she dropped to her knees. All she had left now was her husband of one month, a mother that was grieving even more so than she, an aging grandfather, and Jack's rum. She was beginning to appreciate the numbing effect and understand why Jack enjoyed it so much as the recollection of the sight that met her eyes in the dawn light began to fade.
She heard footsteps behind her and quickly hid the rum in her black skirts. Then she stood and turned slowly to see who dared intrude on her mourning, but nothing could have prepared her for whom she saw.
Through the shock her voice had all but disappeared, and there were several squeaking noises before she managed to whisper hoarsely, "Jack?"
"Captain Jack, luv, if ye don't mind." That tone of voice, that gold toothed smile, the waver in his stance, the light in those eyes . . . it was him, but . . .
"It - it's not possible . . . "
"Not probable, luv, but I've got a message for ye and the Gods were kind enough to let me deliver it."
"Oh, Jack! Are you . . . Can I . . . ?" She stumbled over her words, trying to find the right way to ask. Watching how her hand trembled and reached out toward him, and seeing the longing in her eyes, he knew what she meant.
"I'm as solid as ye luv, for now at least." The words weren't out of his mouth properly before the young lady had collapsed into the older man's arms, her body shaking with silent tears. "Now, come on, no need for tears. A young lass like yerself raised by two pirates and a navy officer shouldn't be cryin' like that." He patted her back and allowed them both to sink to the ground.
"Oh, Jack! If it were anything else you know I wouldn't be crying, but the fact that those same three men that raised me not to cry are gone . . . except you as a ghost but you won't be here long, what else can I do?"
"Well, fur starters, ye could take me rum and put it over there with me sword, so other's can remember it too. Then ye could start showing your Turner pride and start bein' the pirate I know ye are."
She chocked back another sob and wiped her eyes clear, then pulled back a bit to look him in the eye. "How can I be the pirate that I was when my Captain and his first mate are in the ground, Captain?" She asked, but with a steady voice this time.
"By followin' yer Captain's last orders, which I'll deliver now. The first comes from the good Commodore, which is simply: make damn sure Gillette does not replace him!" With a nod and a small smile from Skye, Jack continued, "Now, I'd greatly appreciate if ye, yur mom, and my dear Anamaria would make sure that me name doesn't die with me body."
"It will take a long time for the name of Captain Jack Sparrow to die, you have my word."
"Which I know is as good as gold. And last, yur dad wants you to take care of yur mom, and his grandchild."
"Wh-what?!" But with the message delivered Jack had begun to fade away.
"Guess me time's up, luv, but we'll be seein' you when's yur time's come, and remember, we're all only as dead as you make us." With that, Jack faded away, leaving an unbelieving Skye clutching thin air.
A bit later she rose to her feet, absentmindedly rubbing her hand over her stomach. She sighed, after two weeks she finally felt relieved and accepting of their deaths, and could move on. Allowing all her former 'Turner' pride to show through, she held her head high. There was no second thoughts when she put the rum bottle down for the last time, before going back to live the life she had left before she would be able to see those she loved so dearly again.
Well, there it is, that little tid-bit (or 'Tim-Bit' if you like Tim Horton's) of clutter is now organized and put to rest on the shelf to collect dust unless you REVIEW! I'm sorry it is so short but it is doubling as an English assignment that had limited words... sigh ... oh well!
