Skye de Masco stood at the highest point of Lundy Island, arms folded and faced the sea. She had bathed and was clean now. But she didn't think the warm, sticky feeling of her husband's blood would ever leave. She rubbed her arms and shuddered. She closed her eyes and tried to pushed the images away…but they remained.

Waves crashed on the rocks all around her and drenched her but she didn't move. The sea battered her that way the world was. The sea spray and her tears became one.

"Hello love."

Skye didn't move. "He's gone, Jack. He's gone."

Familiar hands wrapped around her waist. "You didn't need him anyway. You've always had me."

Skye's eyes closed as she was pulled back against a firm chest. "Jack…" she whispered. She turned. "Hold me," she whispered fiercely. "Hold me or I shall die!"

Captain Jack Sparrow clasped her close. His braids brushed the top of her head and jangled softly in the breeze. "I don't think you're capable of dying, love."

Skye clung to him as if she was drowning and he was her only hope of living. "The blood…it was every where…I stepped in it and I fell. It was all over me, Jack," she gasped. She pressed her face to his chest and shook her head. "All over me!"

Jack rubbed her arms and looked at her. His brown eyes glittered wildly as usual but…his face was serious as he looked at her. "It's gone now, Skye. All of it. There's none left on you."

"Take me away." Skye pressed close to him and listened to his steady heartbeat. She smell the sea on him…she could smell the freedom. "Take me away with you, Jack."

"I can't do that, love. This world…this glittering world you live in is very much different from mine." Jack nuzzled her hair. "It wouldn't be fair of me…"

"Jack, I grew up at sea. I can wield a sword better than you. I own my own ships. Jack…" Skye pleaded. "I've begged you for years…take me with you."

"I have nothing to offer you, Skye," Jack said quietly. "I'm a washed up pirate who barely manages to keeps himself alive. I drink rum, love, and not water. Why, even my vein are filled with rum…not blood."

"And I drink it right along with you."

Jack grinned. "Aye, that you do, love. And you hold it remarkably well."

"Jack," Skye whispered. "I've lost three husbands. I can take no more."

"You'll never loose me."

Skye placed a slim finger over his lips. "Don't say that. Don't even think it. None of us are immortal."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "I don't know about that, love. That still remains to be determined about myself."

Skye smiled weakly. "I don't know what I would do without you, Jack."

"Live on, my love," said Jack. He waved a hand at the sea. "You are free again."

Skye clung to him as the sea mingled with her tears. "Free…" she turned and pressed her face to his chest. "Not hardly."

The court of King James broke out into an uproar when news of Lord de Masco's death at the hands of the Spanish arrived and dark eyes where turned on the Spanish Queen that sat beside the English King. But the hostile court watched in amazement as the once again widowed Skye de Masco, a vision in black velvet and diamonds, stepped through the doors and glided like a dark vision through the small groups that stood about. Perfectly poised, she knelt before the King and Queen and pledged them her loyalty. Then she kissed the Queen's small hand and left.