"It's a pirate's life for me..."
And so it was for Jack Sparrow. Always had been, always will be. He had what he needed in life- a ship, adventure, freedom. He didn't feel like he was lacking much. How could you be lacking anything when you were free?
A smile tugged at his lips, twitching his dark moustache upwards and revealing his slightly eneven teeth. The wind lightly played with his thick dreadlocks, and he ran his hands in satisfaction along the wheel of his ship, tracing the planes of her furnished mahogany wood.
His beloved Pearl. He thought he had lost her completely, after Barbossa had stolen her, left him sailing in a dingy. During his previous quest he learnt that the Pearl and its crew, except Barbossa, had been lost to the sea in an attack by Blackbeard. The grudge he held against the Barbossa still lingered, but Barbossa now had his ship, his revenge. The Queen Anne's Revenge was his, the power of Blackbeard was his. He was content.
And now Jack was content. He had the Pearl and its crew back, and Gibbs as his first mate. If it weren't for the loyal, jolly man, he would not have the Pearl, and a whole sack of ships that Blackbeard had destroyed- all in voodoo bottles, ready for his release whenever he pleased.
But since he had gotten the Pearl back, something had been tugging at his mind. And not only at his mind, his heart. The name tugged at his heart, and awakened feelings that he didn't often experience.
Angelica.
All her dark beauty and heated, seductive accent. All her playful grins and flicking of dark lashes. The way she glared when something was not going to her contentment. And, the clearest picture in his mind- her heart-shaped face, so close, and her voice declaring that she loved him, sincerely. Her voice breaking on the last three words, emotion clear in her eyes. She was a master of deception- Jack knew that as a fact, a true pirate, and a dangerous one at that, one you could never fully trust... but in that moment he knew that she meant was she was saying. Knowing that it was truly a moment of truth and confession. His words had been, "As do I. Always have, always will."
Maybe that could have been his happy ending right there...
"Capt'n!" Gibbs shuffled briskly up the stairs. Behind him Cotton and his parrot followed suit.
"Master Gibbs," Jack turned to face Gibbs, startled out of his thoughts.
Gibbs looked a little uncomfortable. "Capt'n, ye know that I respect ye decisions with utmost of respect, but I'm starting to think that we don't have a purpose...yet." Gibbs added, trailing off, and Cotton's parrot squawked in what Jack assumed was agreement.
Jack shifted his position and grinned a sure smile."Gibbs, life is a purpose, mate. Everything we do, has a purpose. Everything we want, has a purpose..." he trailed off, seeing Gibbs' unsure expression.
"Ye still have the compass, no?" Gibbs inquired.
Jack turned his body toward the wheel again. "Yes I do have the compass." He answered in a very even voice.
There were a few seconds of silence, then Gibbs cleared his throat. "The compass leads to what you most want in this world, yes?"
"Yes," Jack replied, still faced away from Gibbs. It points to what you want most in this world... The words he had truthfully told Elizabeth many moons ago, at only the beginning of his adventures, seemed so long ago.
"Well, seeing as ye said what ye want always has a purpose, why don't ye see what ye want, and then we have a purpose." Gibbs was saying.
"And a heading," Ragetti added . Cotton's parrot squawked, and Gibbs nodded. "Aye, and a heading."
Jack didn't turn for a moment. He stared out to see, his dark eyes trailing the horizon. He didn't wish to open the compass. The compass was always right. And with the compass always being right, he knew where it would be pointed.
"Well Capt'n?" Gibbs voice came from behind.
Jack turned slowly, putting on a reassuring smile. "We set sail for Tortuga." He said simply.
"And then...?" Gibbs asked.
"Mate, we take life it as it comes."
Gibbs frowned for a moment, then nodded. 'Aye, hoist the sails, there's more haste to be coaxed from these sails!" he descended down the stairs with Cotton and the rest of the small crew. Jack watched absentmindedly for a moment before turning back to the wheel.
The rest of the crew buzzed around in the lower deck, but they were only in the background of his concentration. His mind trailed off, and it reminded him of the time when he hadn't had known what he wanted, and when the compass needle had been spinning in endless, indecisive circles. Narrowing his dark eyes, he reached down to yank the compass off his waist-band. He raised it slowly to eye it carefully. After a few moments had passed, he checked over his shoulder to be sure no one was watching. Everyone was far too busy hurrying around deck to notice. Flicking his eyes back to the item in his hands, he flipped it open in a short, quick movement.
He watched it intently for a moment. As the waves splashed along the stern of the ship, and the crew yelled to each other in the background. The needle spun twice, past north, then down past south, and then settled in an easterly direction. He narrowed his eyes, and, keeping the compass open, he stepped forward to the small table where his charts rested, and placing the compass down in the middle, he ran his finger over the faded paper, tracing the seas, the land... until he pinpointed the ships location. Then his eyes followed the sea direction east until he found an island.
The island.
Jack snapped the compass shut and turned briskly away from the map.
He stepped towards the railing and looked out at the sea. The waves were choppy and rough despite the fine day, but there was a wind picking up and white spray misted over the lower half the ship. The sound was comforting to him, with the chatter of the men down on deck, and the whooshing of the sails rising.
He stared over at the horizon, the horizon he could never reach, but was always chasing.
The island. No happy ending.
He had left her on the island, as hard as it had been to do so. As he had rowed away she had been screaming, yelling, throwing an absolute fit. Yelling out his name. That had been the worst part.
This is not over! Her words still rung in his mind. Of course it wasn't. Of course she would survive, escape, be back, a pirate, doing as she used to. Things would return back to the way they were before Blackbeard, before the adventure they had been on together, back to the way things had been after Jack had left her the first time.
The first time?
In his head, this sounded truly wrong. But it was right. He had left her twice. He loved her. Always had. He'd said so... and still he'd left her, twice.
He turned back to the wheel and the map, and his eyes rested on the compass. He narrowed the dark, black rimmed orbs, and stepped forward. After staring down at the compass for a long, lingering moment, a pained expression splashed across his features, he growled through his teeth and knocked the compass to the deck floor with his hand. It clattered underneath the table. Straightening, he composed his features and faced the lower deck.
"Tortuga!" he yelled over the roar of the waves and the growing wind, and the last note of his call was drowned away and lost in the wind.
Thousands of leagues away...
The waves gently lapped at the edge of the island sand, with only a light breeze teasing the air. The sun was low, and the afternoon drawing to an end. The whole island was silent, the only sounds the distant crash of a wave against the cliffs at the far side, and the call of a lone bird.
A young women sat, sprawled on the sand under a palm tree, a look of total hopelessness on her face, her full lips dry from the sun and salt. Her undergarment was dusted with sand.
The lapping of the waves on the sand was a rhythm she had been listening to for the past 4 hours. She didn't move- just sat, her eyes watching the water, sometimes taking a fleeting glance over at the horizon. So when something washed up on the sand at her feet, it caught her eye and she shifted her gaze.
It took her a moment to realise what it was. A small floppy doll, with tattered fabric, small boots. She reached forward and lifted it out of the water, slowly.
Water dripping from the small figure, the women's eyes widened when she realised. The dreadlocks, the waistband...
Angelica Teach's cracked lips slowly drew into a wide grin, her eyes staring out at the horizon. A set look came over her face, and her dark eyes narrowed.
It was the voodoo doll.
Jack's voodoo doll.