AN: Thank you for continuing to follow this story. I thought I should clarify that the words in the
(parenthesis) are quick thoughts. Like the ones that you think quickly that most of the time you
don't catch. That's why they are stuck in there, it is cleared up more in this part.
Translations: "Wo bist du?" - where are you?
"Ich bin heir."- I am here.
Whispers
Part 3: ...Some How I Know That There's Much More to Come
----
Brown paint was splashed on to the fresh canvas in a fury of brush strokes. A dab of white was
added to lighten it up to a tan. Stiff bristles were forced to spilt and conform into a softer form as
the oils were mixed. Now orange was added to give the paint a more sun burnt tone.
The brush was quickly dumped into a small glass of water that turned into a murky senna and a
new, smaller brush was picked up. This time it was dipped into black.
(kohl...)
Sharp line cut across the expanse of brown. While the brown had been blended to give its
appearance a more textured look, the black was left in stark clarity to stand out against it. Only
under the clear line was white added and swirled into a dusky gray. Arched under strokes mixed
with just the slightest bit of brown were made to add shadows and dept.
(to keep the sun from burning...)
Different, fatter brush picked up in exchange of the smaller one. On the wooden pallet, it was
thrust into the red. Spread out above the black and muted brown, the red seeped on the canvas
like a swash of blood. But the startling red was soon brought into perspective with an addition of
a spot of blue, to mix and darken the red, creating shadowed wrinkles in a painted fabric.
(beads and trinkets to be added later...)
Lene set down the large brush and sighed in exhaustion. Painting always was a physically tiring
job. But the results were worth it. She fell back onto the tall wooden stool to rest her aching feet.
"Lene?" she heard Amiee's voice calling her from the storefront room. "Lene? Wo bist du?"
Lene had to smile at her friend's use of her native language. "Ich bin heir!" she answered rising
her back on her sore feet and wiping her hands on the smock that covered her.
She had to push past the long bohemian beads that served as the dividers between the store and
their apartment. The beads had been a relic that Amiee had found during her travels throughout
Eastern Europe, in the lands of Bohemia. It always amazed her, when looking at them, how each
small glass bead was hand crafted and strung, she knew that she could never have the patience to
do so.
Amiee was standing behind the counter talking to a group of people.
(will turner)
Lene recognized the young man that stood slightly behind a young woman as the man who had
been in earlier to buy the book and had such a strange reaction to her painting.
"These people wanted to talk to you," a hint of wariness laced Amiee's voice and Lene couldn't
blame her. It wouldn't be the first time that one of their books or paintings had gotten them in
trouble.
"Yes?" Lene turned and smiled albeit slightly falsely. Who knew what they wanted, plus it looked
as if they had brought a naval officer, never a good sign.
(...this promotion throws into sharp relief that which I have not yet achieved... )
The woman took charge, "Hello, I'm Elizabeth-"
"Swann, yes the Governor's daughter." Lene answered without thinking. She leaned her elbows
on the counter top and smiled again. "How can I be of service."
Elizabeth blinked. "Yes I was Elizabeth Swann, but I am Turner now." she gave Lene a
thoughtful look before continuing. "We just wanted to ask a couple of questions about this
painting that you gave my husband."
Lene nodded, knowing all this. Drawing back from the counter and taking a seat on the stool, she
was aware of Aimee's gaze on her, worrying. But as Lene studying Mrs. Turner, she felt a
familiarity with the woman. She had a bit of the whisper in her as well. "What would you like to
know, Mrs. Turner?"
"Where have you seen the Black Pearl before?" the young woman was quick to the point, no
stalling on the subject.
Thrown slightly, she didn't answer right away. She had never even heard of anything like that
before. "Black Pearl?" she got out. "What is it?"
The three stared at her, judging her facial reactions, seeing if she was lying. The sincerity must
have shown through because the man, he must be Mr. Turner, spoke out in frustration.
"See? I told you! She's never met Jack before."
(captain)
Elizabeth gave her husband a withering look before turning back to Lene. "You see, we know the
ship that you painted. There is no possible way that you could have made it up. You have had to
see it before."
"Is the Black Pearl the name of the ship?" Aimee asked, drawing their attention back to her.
The three nodded. "The Black Pearl is only the largest pirate threat that the Caribbean has to
offer." the officer announced. "Port Royal has not seen her dark sails in over a year, yet in the
painting you have it returning."
Amiee nodded and took it in stride. Pulling her hair back behind her ears she sighed. "Tell me, sir,
what is your name?"
"Admiral Norrington."
(commodore)
Lene stared at the three, letting the thoughts whisper through her mind. Just disconnected words
that didn't make much sense. Most of the time the thoughts swept by without bring any attention
to them. But every once in awhile she picked one up. Like now.
"Were you a commodore last year?" she suddenly burst out.
Norrington turned and gave her a shocked look. Then his eyes narrowed as he considered his
answer. Lene thought that he probably thought she was mad. But he wouldn't be the first. "Yes,
about a year ago, I was indeed a commodore."
"Do officers always become commodores before admirals?" Lene pressed.
The man shook his head and clasped his hands behind his back, falling into a military
unconsciously. "No, men are only promoted to the rank of commodore if there is a need to have a
fleet in an aggressive area. Or in times of war. Last year the pirate threat had reached its brink and
we had a fleet to command here in order to eliminate the threat."
Idly noticing that she had gotten paint smeared on the counter top, Lene asked another question.
"So that threat is over?"
Norrington offered a little shrug that seemed out of place of his character. "So it would seem to
my superiors. They believe that the unsettlement up north is in need of the fleet more than Port
Royal and its water ways."
Elizabeth looked as if she was going to burst with questions and as soon as the Admiral had
stopped talking she jumped in. "How did you know that he was a commodore? How did you
manage to paint the Black Pearl in Port Royal? Have you ever been here before? How did you
know my name?"
It was Will's turn to give his wife a withering look. "Elizabeth. Let them answer one question at a
time." he flash the two shopkeepers a apologetic smile. "I'm terribly sorry, my wife tends to get
excited easily."
Amiee waved it off. "It's alright. This has happened before. I do not blame her."
That drew everyone's attention. "This has happened before?" Will asked.
Amiee nodded. "Whether it be her paintings or my books, someone had seen or read something
that is familiar to them but we shouldn't have known. The explanation is a confusion and
unbelievable one but it is it nonetheless."
"And what is it?" Elizabeth asked, drawing closer to the counter, her interest piqued.
Lene gave each of them a hard look. It was more than just the woman that shared the familiar
feeling. The other two had it as well. Though the officer did not have it very much at all and
young Turner's paled in comparison with his wife.
"First off, do you believe in the supernatural?" Amiee asked.
"We've had our brushes with it." Elizabeth answered wryly. "Yes we all do." she answered more
definitely.
"Good." Amiee smiled a little more relaxed now.
"I paint whenever I get what I call 'mind whispers.' They're feelings or words that rush across my
mind like the wind or a whisper. Most people don't have these things, and when I find someone
else that does, I feel like I've known them forever."
"Is that how..." Elizabeth trailed off in full realization of the statement.
Lene nodded. "I think you have a bit of the whispers, Mrs. Turner. Your husband as well, even
you Admiral. These whispers are hard to catch most of the time, but you can get full images or
words at times. It is then when I need to paint or Amiee needs to write. We all have our ways of
getting the whispers out of our heads. Even you must find ways to expel them."
Elizabeth turned and gave Will a pointed look. "Your swords. Remember that one time when you
were reading in the sitting room and suddenly you jumped up saying something about needing to
head to the smithy?"
Will nodded stunned.
Lene continued on. "I don't know if these whispers can tell the future or if they just pick up
whispers from others."
Norrington had been gazing at the bookshelf of Amiee's writings, though still paying attention. At
the last comment, he turned. "So that means, either you picked up thoughts of the Black
Pearl......or she's heading for Port Royal?"
(parenthesis) are quick thoughts. Like the ones that you think quickly that most of the time you
don't catch. That's why they are stuck in there, it is cleared up more in this part.
Translations: "Wo bist du?" - where are you?
"Ich bin heir."- I am here.
Whispers
Part 3: ...Some How I Know That There's Much More to Come
----
Brown paint was splashed on to the fresh canvas in a fury of brush strokes. A dab of white was
added to lighten it up to a tan. Stiff bristles were forced to spilt and conform into a softer form as
the oils were mixed. Now orange was added to give the paint a more sun burnt tone.
The brush was quickly dumped into a small glass of water that turned into a murky senna and a
new, smaller brush was picked up. This time it was dipped into black.
(kohl...)
Sharp line cut across the expanse of brown. While the brown had been blended to give its
appearance a more textured look, the black was left in stark clarity to stand out against it. Only
under the clear line was white added and swirled into a dusky gray. Arched under strokes mixed
with just the slightest bit of brown were made to add shadows and dept.
(to keep the sun from burning...)
Different, fatter brush picked up in exchange of the smaller one. On the wooden pallet, it was
thrust into the red. Spread out above the black and muted brown, the red seeped on the canvas
like a swash of blood. But the startling red was soon brought into perspective with an addition of
a spot of blue, to mix and darken the red, creating shadowed wrinkles in a painted fabric.
(beads and trinkets to be added later...)
Lene set down the large brush and sighed in exhaustion. Painting always was a physically tiring
job. But the results were worth it. She fell back onto the tall wooden stool to rest her aching feet.
"Lene?" she heard Amiee's voice calling her from the storefront room. "Lene? Wo bist du?"
Lene had to smile at her friend's use of her native language. "Ich bin heir!" she answered rising
her back on her sore feet and wiping her hands on the smock that covered her.
She had to push past the long bohemian beads that served as the dividers between the store and
their apartment. The beads had been a relic that Amiee had found during her travels throughout
Eastern Europe, in the lands of Bohemia. It always amazed her, when looking at them, how each
small glass bead was hand crafted and strung, she knew that she could never have the patience to
do so.
Amiee was standing behind the counter talking to a group of people.
(will turner)
Lene recognized the young man that stood slightly behind a young woman as the man who had
been in earlier to buy the book and had such a strange reaction to her painting.
"These people wanted to talk to you," a hint of wariness laced Amiee's voice and Lene couldn't
blame her. It wouldn't be the first time that one of their books or paintings had gotten them in
trouble.
"Yes?" Lene turned and smiled albeit slightly falsely. Who knew what they wanted, plus it looked
as if they had brought a naval officer, never a good sign.
(...this promotion throws into sharp relief that which I have not yet achieved... )
The woman took charge, "Hello, I'm Elizabeth-"
"Swann, yes the Governor's daughter." Lene answered without thinking. She leaned her elbows
on the counter top and smiled again. "How can I be of service."
Elizabeth blinked. "Yes I was Elizabeth Swann, but I am Turner now." she gave Lene a
thoughtful look before continuing. "We just wanted to ask a couple of questions about this
painting that you gave my husband."
Lene nodded, knowing all this. Drawing back from the counter and taking a seat on the stool, she
was aware of Aimee's gaze on her, worrying. But as Lene studying Mrs. Turner, she felt a
familiarity with the woman. She had a bit of the whisper in her as well. "What would you like to
know, Mrs. Turner?"
"Where have you seen the Black Pearl before?" the young woman was quick to the point, no
stalling on the subject.
Thrown slightly, she didn't answer right away. She had never even heard of anything like that
before. "Black Pearl?" she got out. "What is it?"
The three stared at her, judging her facial reactions, seeing if she was lying. The sincerity must
have shown through because the man, he must be Mr. Turner, spoke out in frustration.
"See? I told you! She's never met Jack before."
(captain)
Elizabeth gave her husband a withering look before turning back to Lene. "You see, we know the
ship that you painted. There is no possible way that you could have made it up. You have had to
see it before."
"Is the Black Pearl the name of the ship?" Aimee asked, drawing their attention back to her.
The three nodded. "The Black Pearl is only the largest pirate threat that the Caribbean has to
offer." the officer announced. "Port Royal has not seen her dark sails in over a year, yet in the
painting you have it returning."
Amiee nodded and took it in stride. Pulling her hair back behind her ears she sighed. "Tell me, sir,
what is your name?"
"Admiral Norrington."
(commodore)
Lene stared at the three, letting the thoughts whisper through her mind. Just disconnected words
that didn't make much sense. Most of the time the thoughts swept by without bring any attention
to them. But every once in awhile she picked one up. Like now.
"Were you a commodore last year?" she suddenly burst out.
Norrington turned and gave her a shocked look. Then his eyes narrowed as he considered his
answer. Lene thought that he probably thought she was mad. But he wouldn't be the first. "Yes,
about a year ago, I was indeed a commodore."
"Do officers always become commodores before admirals?" Lene pressed.
The man shook his head and clasped his hands behind his back, falling into a military
unconsciously. "No, men are only promoted to the rank of commodore if there is a need to have a
fleet in an aggressive area. Or in times of war. Last year the pirate threat had reached its brink and
we had a fleet to command here in order to eliminate the threat."
Idly noticing that she had gotten paint smeared on the counter top, Lene asked another question.
"So that threat is over?"
Norrington offered a little shrug that seemed out of place of his character. "So it would seem to
my superiors. They believe that the unsettlement up north is in need of the fleet more than Port
Royal and its water ways."
Elizabeth looked as if she was going to burst with questions and as soon as the Admiral had
stopped talking she jumped in. "How did you know that he was a commodore? How did you
manage to paint the Black Pearl in Port Royal? Have you ever been here before? How did you
know my name?"
It was Will's turn to give his wife a withering look. "Elizabeth. Let them answer one question at a
time." he flash the two shopkeepers a apologetic smile. "I'm terribly sorry, my wife tends to get
excited easily."
Amiee waved it off. "It's alright. This has happened before. I do not blame her."
That drew everyone's attention. "This has happened before?" Will asked.
Amiee nodded. "Whether it be her paintings or my books, someone had seen or read something
that is familiar to them but we shouldn't have known. The explanation is a confusion and
unbelievable one but it is it nonetheless."
"And what is it?" Elizabeth asked, drawing closer to the counter, her interest piqued.
Lene gave each of them a hard look. It was more than just the woman that shared the familiar
feeling. The other two had it as well. Though the officer did not have it very much at all and
young Turner's paled in comparison with his wife.
"First off, do you believe in the supernatural?" Amiee asked.
"We've had our brushes with it." Elizabeth answered wryly. "Yes we all do." she answered more
definitely.
"Good." Amiee smiled a little more relaxed now.
"I paint whenever I get what I call 'mind whispers.' They're feelings or words that rush across my
mind like the wind or a whisper. Most people don't have these things, and when I find someone
else that does, I feel like I've known them forever."
"Is that how..." Elizabeth trailed off in full realization of the statement.
Lene nodded. "I think you have a bit of the whispers, Mrs. Turner. Your husband as well, even
you Admiral. These whispers are hard to catch most of the time, but you can get full images or
words at times. It is then when I need to paint or Amiee needs to write. We all have our ways of
getting the whispers out of our heads. Even you must find ways to expel them."
Elizabeth turned and gave Will a pointed look. "Your swords. Remember that one time when you
were reading in the sitting room and suddenly you jumped up saying something about needing to
head to the smithy?"
Will nodded stunned.
Lene continued on. "I don't know if these whispers can tell the future or if they just pick up
whispers from others."
Norrington had been gazing at the bookshelf of Amiee's writings, though still paying attention. At
the last comment, he turned. "So that means, either you picked up thoughts of the Black
Pearl......or she's heading for Port Royal?"