7. Incremental Boundaries
Elizabeth woke in her bed the next morning to the melodic sound of birds chirping at her bedroom window, as well as seagulls squawking while they soared about the cliffs. Elizabeth stirred a bit and felt the radiant warmth of a wide, strip of the sun's powerful rays streaking across her back and shoulder. The too hot band of bright color caused her to stir, finally shifting to sit up a bit and view her surroundings. Elizabeth's long blonde hair flowed in a leisurely, trailing pattern of curls following after her head. Through squinting eyes Elizabeth realized she was in her bed and discovered alone―much to her disappointment. Jack had not returned to her bed. She closed her eyes again feeling this heavy weight to her entire body, as if she was drained of all energy and limbs weighted down so much she could barely manage to keep her head lifted. There was this urge of simply collapsing back onto the pillow as a heap of fatigued flesh.
In the wake of all that, Elizabeth was feeling this slight, overall tenderness of her body in personal places. Obviously that cemented the proposal she had indeed been visited by Jack Sparrow in an intimate liaison. Elizabeth was sore and ached from the residue of having rapacious sex with Jack the previous evening. She sort of expected the slight discomforts since it was only her third time―well, perhaps fourth and fifth―if counting incidents encapsulated rather than configuring individual days.
Elizabeth snickered a deliciously iniquitous giggle to herself, surprised at how wicked she'd been. All it took was one night in bed with Captain Jack Sparrow to draw it out of her. It was so unlike Elizabeth to dive so deep into these provocative follies and seek pleasures in such a wanton and unabashed manner. Jack did have an uncanny ability of drawing passion out of her. He had this skill of slanting the facts in such a way that Elizabeth found herself an all too willing participant in said mutual debauchery.
Getting herself up and dragging sluggishly out of bed, Elizabeth swung her legs over the side and let them dangle off the mattress. Still in the throes of waking up, she acknowledged her achy parts and glanced casually about her bedroom. She was attempting to discern if there were any traces or signs of Jack having been there at all. Could it have been a dream―or possibly a demonic visitation in lieu of who it was and what took place? Strangely enough it felt like the latter had indeed happened. Elizabeth expected her soul required a much serious and needed 'cleansing' after that wayward expedition into sin.
She yawned and resumed to visually scan her bedroom with the pattern of lazy eyes which were cast from the mattress of rumpled sheets where she sat, dropping down to the floor. Then she drew a visual line straight to the doorway of the main living quarters. There was no physical hint of Jack Sparrow having been there; at least not in her bedroom. Outside of her bodily complaints, no one would be the wiser that Elizabeth spent half the evening amid lust and love with a randy pirate who indeed ravaged her as promised.
Shifting to one side in order to reach a robe, Elizabeth threw it on over her shoulders and slowly shuffled out to her main living area. She wanted to boil some water for a strong cup of tea and a much needed hot water wash to clean up. Eventually landing in her kitchen, she sat at the dining table. Elizabeth glanced about the vast main room of her home which was presently chilled. She waited for her fire to take shape in the hearth with a good blaze. Then she'd be able to place a kettle upon the remaining chunks of burned wood. They'd soon turn into hot, burning embers which would bring her kettle to a quick boil. Elizabeth anxiously tapped her nails upon the table top, listening blankly to the void of crackling wood and simmering water while she waited. The entire time she sat there, Elizabeth felt it was a struggle to combat the exhaustion. She ignored the tiny voice within her head which told her to crawl back into her warm bed forgetting everything else.
Still drumming her fingertips atop the wooden table, all the while Elizabeth preoccupied her thoughts by filtering through the evening's past events. It was next to impossible to believe Elizabeth had made love with Jack Sparrow again―and so fervently. What passion and vehemence Sparrow brought to the process. Feeling flushed with a rush of embarrassment, coincidentally that zeal was immensely infectious and Jack had her enjoying that enthusiasm with him. Elizabeth chuckled darkly as images of the night drifted into her imagination, accompanied by a roll of her eyes cast to the ceiling as if she was also mortified in review of her behavior.
What in the world got into me!? That was not me in the slightest….Gracious, how could I do that―with Jack? Oh my, I imagine that saying must be true: 'love knows no boundaries?' she giggled a foreboding chortle to herself.
It was not as much fun or considered a favored proceed when Elizabeth had coupled with William Turner that afternoon they wed―quick and uneventful. That would be the description Elizabeth would pass as definition. There was no time for her to even make a constructive suggestion, since she had nothing in her history to imply there was anything else she could hold up in comparison―only Jack. Now she understood there was a definitive style between men who she'd made love to―at least that was her understanding of how it all worked.
Elizabeth sat there and thoughtfully bit a fingernail as she did a cerebral appraisal of her experience so far with men in retrospect. Jack was naturally a fresh and saucy character; a wildly wicked man. He was crazy, impetuous, and terribly sexy. Her experience with him was extremely physical by design. Being with Sparrow was so clear in her mind since it happened mere hours ago. Being with Jack in that way, Elizabeth considered it was due to his 'large personality' which had made the trek into the bedroom an effortless journey. Even when Elizabeth recollected Jack's insatiable heat, Elizabeth was able to keep up with him in ways that astonished her now in reflection.
The one and single time Elizabeth had a sexual experience with her husband, was two years ago and had been tabulated within her memory as ordinary. It was a clumsy tumble at best. Elizabeth hated to admit it, but there really was no comparison at all between the two men. Realistically, Jack being her first; in essence he was her real husband in the physical context. Sparrow had been the man who guided her over that threshold into womanhood. However, guilt rose up into Elizabeth's foremost thoughts and challenged any lingering images she had from last night's session with Captain Jack Sparrow. She would try to avoid them, if she could.
"Goodness, what did I get myself into last night?" Elizabeth muttered to herself aloud as she sat there with a perplexed grimace.
It was unavoidable recollecting the incident in various and incremental steps of revived memory. When she finally got to the part where Jack bit her neck, she balked. Elizabeth's arm instantly flexed upward with a palm cupped to her nape. She felt the very spot where Sparrow had nipped her. Elizabeth felt a few times with probing fingers searching for a raw or tender spot―but nothing was there! A scowl manifested upon her façade as Elizabeth jerked up from her seat and swiftly trotted back inside the bedroom. Standing in front of the bureau mirror Elizabeth examined her own image.
Once again the impossible occurred. Elizabeth was shocked because there was no mark or cut―nothing! Just as her thumb miraculously healed from Sparrow's attentions to the terrible cut she had received last time. Elizabeth's long and ivory neck did not show sight of anything―not even a minuscule blemish! Her frown was forged into a deeper scowl of confusion. That was not possible. Elizabeth traipsed a lone index finger at the base of a large vein there, even recollecting the taste of her own blood upon Jack's lips when he kissed her afterwards. The faint and salty hint of iron still permeated her memory of that experience taking place.
All of this greatly puzzled Elizabeth for she could not fathom how these events transpired without physical proof…in the wake of what transpired, the only evidence was the soreness of her body. Receiving Sparrow after two years of absence baffled her. She still felt the physical residue of having been with a man―so it had to be real. But what of that terrible bite Sparrow had delivered amid the throes of his heightened excitement? At least that is what Jack had claimed was the reason for what he had done. No matter how she measured the act, there was not a single mar upon her swan-like neck. That confounded Elizabeth all the more. She was left with naught but time to fathom the answer until she saw Jack Sparrow again.
The past several nights on the Black Pearl had been cold, wet, and damp. It had set the precipice for the entire crew to be awash in moody and disgruntled contemplation of wanting to sail elsewhere for fairer weather. The nights grew too quick upon the horizon as autumn kissed away those early hours. Being thrust into darkness that much sooner did not help the crew's temperaments either. This time of the year was impossible to hope for large stretches of sunny weather. Perhaps if they sailed below the equator to the warmer climate, that would be more suitable and lift their spirits. Alas, business would flounder because a pirate made his booty by accosting other ships along active trade routes. As of late, the haul taken from the last raid upon the Spanish had been extremely profitable. So that sweetened their grumblings a little, lightening up their complaints about lousy weather. They suffered with full pockets of gold coin.
Besides days growing shorter, for the past week the Pearl had seemed to be sailing in alignment to a bothersome storm which could not be shaken. No matter which latitudes Sparrow charted, for some reason the blustery weather caught up with them. It had been a tumultuous afternoon in particular, leaving the crew in an abysmal mood. Their Captain was starting to grow pale and they instinctively knew he would plan another, much needed visit to land. Whatever Sparrow did on those brief but frequent stints of shore leave, he usually returned to the ship appearing starkly robust and energized; having more color to his usually waning pallor that soon twisted to an ashen hue after a few weeks.
Where they made port this one night, the season's most current tropical storm had drenched the local town. It caused venues to remain half flooded into late evening. Even the boarded sidewalks were still slick with pliant mud and littered with deep puddles. The hem of a gentlemen's trousers would indeed be drenched as well as their stockings. Boots were a much needed gear to repel the rain waters which splashed everywhere. Ladies' shoes were sloshing about as well as the ends of their heavily laden skirts. All became saturated with the presence of rainwater heavily pooling within worn and aged cobblestones. Sparrow had scurried them off far too soon in going back to sea and without any explanation. They thought perhaps he was dodging someone from an unpaid wager.
The locals had been in dire want for better weather too, tiring of the foul dampness. That had been a large measure of his excuse of why it drove Jack out of that port and into his precious cabin that day, swiftly heading away from shore. More than most of the crew thought he decided on that quick turn about of travel for precarious reasons. But when there had been a fight on board the ship, the attitudes turned morose again and he appeared to handle the matter. The Black Pearl's crew had been particularly burly as of late, not seeing eye-to-eye with each other or their Captain. For some time they had their full ration of pirate booty and wanted a leisurely visit to port. Pockets full from their most recent success of raiding a certain Spanish galleon, the crew felt their battle won had deserved a much needed break from the sea. It had been a lucrative catch with little loss of life. They wanted to celebrate a bit with shore leave…a chance to spend some of that booty. Because the nasty weather had prevented them from taking one of their fortnight trips ashore, the crew had remained at sea far longer than they wanted and were griping.
However, there grievance was not only about collecting a bit of down time after the recent raid, abandoning their shore leave too soon, or even the dreary and bothersome weather that made their brains soggy with a want for the sun. The main purpose of their current protest was the mysterious demise of a crewman. The nature of this death had those of a suspicious inclination rattled. It was only when a few members of the ship had followed this horrendous stench and discovered the man dead in the hold, when the dissention began. They knew he had been missing, but when he did not turn up at all, it was presumed he had fallen overboard in a drunken stupor. Apparently, rumors told among the crew stated he had been attacked by something….strange. The corpse had lost an exorbitant amount of blood. It was told he expired after crawling in the space behind a series of crated supplies. He must have been there for a few days before the stench of a rotting body called the attention of those who happened upon the corpse.
The crew could not guess or possibly know the whole story to this mystery, or even concoct a rational explanation over the man's peculiar death. There was no way to clarify the severe loss of blood. It was suggested by the state of his body he may have died from loss of blood. However, no blood was found on or around the corpse or the floor of the ship's hold. Of course, that incident set the tongues waggling. The crewmen were mostly afraid for not having any valid explanation of what happened to him―and would this same fate happen to one of them? That apprehension traveled through the crew promptly and just made matters worse. This was only the cherry on top of the crew's other filed grievances. They plainly told Captain Sparrow that in spite of the ship lining their pockets with gold, they were fearful of this alleged curse which had befallen the Black Pearl. It would not bode well to have coins of gold, but not live long enough to spend them!
This unpleasant experience had given uneasy pause to those crewmen who wanted to leave the ship altogether and ditch their assignment to the Pearl. As soon as they'd reach shore, they were going to find other ships to crew. Meanwhile, until that happened and they reached a port, those who were worried slept with cautious trepidation. They drew straws from a secret lot to decide who would remain awake as the private watch over the men as the others slept during the night. They arrived at their own conclusions how to handle this dilemma. It seemed their Captain's overall gist of this incident was not held as a serious matter. He basically ignored their fears and belayed their request of sailing through harsh weather just to reach a distant shore; to make a hasty decision based on hearsay and unfounded qualms. Gibbs had regarded this recent and bizarre attack as a viable issue of dissent, warning Sparrow this may cause a mutiny if he disregarded their apprehension.
Jack's final conclusion was to put the rumor mill to rest and persuade them all to adhere to the original plan. He understood their distress and realized it was a driving force which could indeed lead to a mutinous end. Sparrow had to prepare for that eventuality for he knew that dangerous animal all too well, having survived a similar incident many moons ago. Sparrow and Gibbs kept a sharp eye and tough handle upon this skittish crew, prepared to grapple with mutiny any given moment―at least while they were at deep sea. Jack finally gave in and diligently gripped the wet spokes of the helm and headed for the closest land mass to appease.
That land mass at the time so happened to be Grand Cayman Islands. The crew was far too restless as Gibbs diligently reported to Sparrow. They had been at sea for too long and these past two weeks of the months were tedious at best. The inclement weather had the ship sailing off course frequently, therefore slamming into more tumultuous seas. Once this peculiar death of their crew-mate occurred, that episode seemed to tip the scale. It pressured Captain Jack Sparrow to act accordingly to maintain the peace and preserve order.
Ever since Sparrow took on new men in Singapore, he became acquainted with one crewman rather well. Takkito and a few others. They were feisty and seemed fixated with taking on those fat, Spanish galleons which were slated to frequently sail in these same waters. It was a profitable venture and they were not superstitious. They wanted to remain at sea to glean more gold. Sparrow admired their zeal. It had only been during this recent patch of trouble where Jack had been distracted. Current events with a disgruntled crew and forever battling a temperamental sea, had also prevented any visits to Elizabeth. Sparrow was anointed with impending ardor, harboring innermost desires to see her, but circumstances prevented such dalliances.
Sparrow contained that intense urge for Elizabeth which manifested into a horrible ache. This prickly state caused him to hanker for her company even more, driving Sparrow to seek Elizabeth out soon―if not immediately. When not pirating, Sparrow was consumed with the idea of making love to her. Not only to keep his torrid libido in check, but to secure Elizabeth's general well-being. Jack knew she was capable, but whilst she was living alone on that island it caused him great vexation. Sparrow admitted that to his first mate. It was out of character for Jack to disregard other wenches. He always wanted her. In short―Jack Sparrow missed Elizabeth tremendously. That longing loaned itself into becoming the primary reason he was transitory. Jack's hankering was a thorn in his side. It jaded his decisions. Would he avoid or call surrender to it? The desire of filling her up usually won the argument. The need to gratify his sexual fantasies and future goal to bond with Elizabeth had permeated Sparrow's daily thoughts. While apart from her, his want easily carried more weight in deciding the final resolution to act.
The event of staking his claim upon her a few months ago haunted Jack. That nuance of starting the wheels turning in the right direction had not escaped Captain Sparrow's imagination. His internal narrative constantly reminded him of how the next step was crucial. When he left Elizabeth and returned to the Black Pearl the following morning, Jack was filled with thoughts of how his last meeting went with Elizabeth. Jack missed her so much and yet he dared not let on about his involvement with her. There was no mention of it to anyone in his crew as to the nature of their relationship. Gibbs suspected or guessed how it went, and he was of the ilk that it had been a 'favorable' visit.
Gibbs had cause for worry, in spite of how loyal he was to his Captain and good friend. He thought the world of Jack Sparrow and always held him in high regard. But it did not take a man of science to realize what must have occurred. For Sparrow to have bedded the "bride-widow" of the Flying Dutchman―it did not bode well for any of them if Turner found out. This was not to be whispered to anyone or taken lightly. Jack did not even discuss or hint of that happening to his usually understanding first mate. In fact, Jack said nothing. He simply appeared looking well and elated, had collected the crew and off they went back to sea. Gibbs had seen Sparrow whistling and humming to himself while at the helm, but that usually meant one thing―he'd been with a woman alright, but this was no wench Sparrow had bedded―not this time.
But, Mister Gibbs was clever enough to have guessed this of his Captain long ago. Long before that incident was spotted, when Sparrow feigned indifference over the lass, while Jack watched Elizabeth scale up the rock cliff to flee, he knew. Even amid Sparrow's most recent sulk on the outside, which only meant he was pining in the inside for the flaxen haired beauty. That telltale grumpiness which dominated Jack's demeanor was always a betraying sign that he was hankering for her. That darkness seemed to creep into Jack's personality when he was apart from Elizabeth for too long. That sulky and moody characteristic was only appeased by a renewed visit to see her. That unruly and brusque manner of attitude was carried to the full when Jack Sparrow was denied of her presence, it showed. This pattern was obvious to Gibbs, particularly when Jack went two whole years without...what a hell that was after the Beckett war. Jack's bark became louder and meaner when patience waned, and his snarl returned with a short fuse which was easy to ignite when foiled.
It was also obvious to Gibbs that when he was on this fine, emotional edge, Captain Jack Sparrow was perilous. He took far too many risks. That usually altruistic attitude of his also vanished and he became raw and crisp. Sparrow was quick to deny any such longings, or admit he was any more coarse or severe than usual. But Gibbs really did not have to hear the excuse or believe that contrite act of the Captain's. It was so easy to spot that morose attitude rise and slither into the very fabric of his nature. Anyone who knew Sparrow as well as Gibbs had the power to discern when that subtle shift took place. That black disposition was lethal and the foundation of it was all about his longing for Elizabeth Swann. Jack did not have to tell Gibbs―he knew.
Anybody with eyes could tell by their last and intense meeting upon the Little Cayman Island that something was going on between the illustrious Miss Swann and Sparrow. Prior to this, none had discovered how they romantically joined just before the Pirate Lord battle with Beckett. Nobody caught wind that Jack and Elizabeth had consummated their long tease upon the Pearl only weeks before Elizabeth wedded Turner. It was a well kept secret. None but Gibbs had suspected they had shared a sexual tryst, and he did not feel compelled to pry or state that fact aloud to the Captain. What he suspected, Gibbs wisely kept to himself.
Jack and Elizabeth met only when it was obvious the ship was in need of supplies, or if Jack had been guided by an inner voice which told him he had to see if Elizabeth was faring alright on her own. Sparrow had not run into William Turner yet, but Gibbs understood Will considered Jack to be one of Elizabeth's close and trusted guardians. Turner was also blissfully ignorant of Jack and Elizabeth's ardent pairing before they were wed. An innocent himself, Will had not suspected Elizabeth of shattered innocence when she came to him. This long history of that romantic triangle had been kept a covert matter so far…..but Captain Sparrow was taking far too many risks as of late, and Gibbs had a bad feeling. Facing so much danger without reproach of his actions, that meant sooner or later their relationship would be exposed...if Sparrow survived his foolish antics and lived long enough to get caught!
Takkito came across the tale of the great battle and the history of his Captain's affiliation with the Dutchman's wife. Naturally, his own personal watch of certain, recent events had caused him to form an opinion. Takkito believed that their Captain suffered a mental torment over this woman, and deemed it an unstable factor for the crew. Quite possibly the Captain was possessed with self abusive behaviors―while crewman Booker had whispered rumors of Jack Sparrow being as dim witted as they came. Booker was of the mind Sparrow had been played a fool by the witch Turner. Suspected she was getting even with Sparrow who was a possible heart breaker of many women. She must have ultimately suffered from Sparrow's cursed karma, therefore the witch punished him. Either that or fate had addressed the Captain's life of sin and the woman who shadowed him paid back with misery―his just and fitting punishment. Such were the rumors which circulated about Jack and why Elizabeth was the only woman he saw at Little Cayman Islands.
All these notions which painted Jack's character were extreme and not exactly on point either, simply because pertinent information and facts would be absent. Those in the crew who imagined Sparrow to be that way did not really have a clue what he was like. Much of the time the new members of the crew in the rumor-mill were mongers of trouble, and very much unaware of the rich history between Sparrow and Swann. They could not fathom how much Sparrow loved this one woman. And if Jack Sparrow caught wind or had any idea of how his crew was chatting up and discussing the private matters of his heart with such fervor, especially what occurred between himself and Miss Swann―he'd flip. That would have certainly effected his hair-trigger temperament and driven Jack into an enraged state, forcing him into rash action.
Jack Sparrow felt that his affair with Elizabeth had successfully been kept private. It would cost much if it became public knowledge, if they were exposed in this manner. For Elizabeth, she would suffer terrible exploit and glean flack from Turner. Jack was a rogue pirate and debauchery came as second nature to him. Sparrow could readily write it off as a feather in his cap, having claimed both wedded and widowed to his bed in the past. He could afford to be glib about a sexual or emotional affair with a married woman. But until a blood transformation took place with Elizabeth, he worried. News of an exposed and secret affair with him would be difficult for her to manage; at least until Elizabeth was totally his in every sense of the word.
That is why Sparrow was actually glad the crew had complained about his morose attitude after the mysterious death, and the following discord brought aboard the ship. His illusion was this, those ill tempers provided him an excuse to head for land, he could use that visit to see Elizabeth. So much the better. Finally, Jack could appear to appease the disgruntled crew, but in reality set out course to please himself. The last confrontation with the men had been a bit too close for comfort. So disconcerted after a rebuke like that, Sparrow knew he had to vote for a shore leave or risk mutiny. Coincidentally, heading for shore was suggested when they were close to Grand Cayman Island, which was a favored spot for leave by the men as well. That rumor was courtesy of Booker being a most impatient man and seeking resolve to his own agenda.
Naturally that vote from the crew had been far more beneficial to Sparrow than it was for them. They might have their fill of rum and wenches, but Sparrow was thrilled and looking forward to a delightful night of reuniting with Elizabeth; a romantic spark which would ignite a quixotic romp. The Captain decided he could use a well earned respite as well. He could get away from the world of men and piracy to fulfill his own dream and desires; the crew being no less the wiser―or so Jack thought. With the entire crew now in agreement for shore leave and where, all was well―especially the temperament of the fretful and moody Sparrow himself. Besides, if he did get grumpy, they would have to put up with his edgy front until he saw her...their cross to bear.
Tikkito and Booker were the two who were closely watching Sparrow's maneuvers without his knowledge. Jack had not suspected his secret liaisons with the Turner lady had breached any public lines and felt secure their secret was sound. Takkito had been most attentive as of late, though the irony of it all, he complained the most. This pirate boasted how close he was to the Captain, but known to be a sneaky sort. The other one who always found himself closest to the Captain's cabin to listen in was Booker. And it was Takkito and Booker who seemed to have formed an odd liaison between themselves; a development Gibbs had noticed and been aware. He watched carefully. Although both were hired in Singapore and steadily employed onto the crew while Sparrow had his stint in Vienna, they seemed to fit in. They also managed to remain 'cozy' and friendly with the Captain, even when they stirred up rabble about current events. As first mate, Gibbs kept a sharp eye on those two, a close watch on all new crewmen. Gibbs wanted to sort them out with a proper hands-on training, and to keep tabs on what they were up to on the sly. He warned Sparrow that he was not particularly fond of them, but Jack scoffed at Gibbs' concern. His only focus was how to get Elizabeth transitioned safely and quickly so that they could begin a new eternal life together. So Jack's tunnel vision was not all encompassing, preferring to leave those minor details for Gibbs to settle.
One night while he was on duty and patrolling the deck as he usually did, Takkito had heard something interesting. When he strolled by the Captain's cabin, he often heard Sparrow stirring within. Sometimes humming or talking to himself, or he would overhear his chats with others, particularly when conversing with Gibbs. But on this particular evening, Takkito had heard the Captain within, muttering profusely in the middle of the night while he slept. Takkito heard the Captain's ardent mumbling and sexually explicit comments about a certain woman. When discussed with Booker, he was of an opinion to assume it must be the woman he sought on the Cayman Island. Takkito was certain it was that woman, but not sure if this was the one in the same as the infamous Pirate King; a woman who held a particular mantle of fame―and an infamous husband.
Elizabeth's identity was not known by the commoners of the island and she liked it that way. So far nobody had seen her in the company of Sparrow either. But these two men were of rare breed and Gibbs thought they took too much interest in the Captain's business. He was right for they had correctly assumed the famed Pirate King and Sparrow's secret paramour happened to be the same female. Noticing Sparrow's mood swings and favoritism for taking shore leave at Little Cayman, they had quickly put the pieces of this puzzle together and realized their Captain was besotted.
Tikkito was astute to follow the Captain's habits and prepared his own internal portfolio on the affair. He watched Sparrow himself, even eavesdropped and overheard the Captains' erotic dreams and sexual fantasies. Crewman Booker assumed their great Captain Sparrow was not just secretly in love with this woman, but bewitched by her. Either way, it was a detail which the showy Captain would have preferred to keep hidden from all. If asked outright, Jack would have brazenly denied loving Elizabeth Swann. That would have been his means of handling the problem―a simple no as his answer. But little did Sparrow realize the magnitude of these skittish circumstances, the extreme interest in what he was doing had spawned intrigue. Was it because they knew Elizabeth had been wed to William Turner, the Captain of the Flying Dutchman? Were they in fear of the Dutchman's wrath? Will Turner indeed was a person no seaman would want to cross to find out, let alone steal his woman―that was a perilous diversion to engage in as recreation. Or perhaps they were in league with other aspects which Sparrow had not a clue.
At any rate, that particular evening during their approach to the Cayman Island, Sparrow was determined to sail his Black Pearl through the very choppy Bloody Bay. It was normally a dangerous waterway, but now with all signs erased by broiling waters, it was three times as difficult to sail. Although relatively new to these waters, Sparrow was adept at navigating the reef and bumpy waterway with flair. Some crewmen thought Sparrow was foolish and too eager, sailing too fast and acting recklessly without regard to ship or crew. But the Captain was not concerned about what those few crewmen thought. He was starting to discern those waters well, so Sparrow maneuvered his grand ship past the usually rough patch of waterway, past the deadly reef, and into Jackson Point via the best byway through Bloody Bay. They glided past the treacherous reef which claimed many a ship, the Pearl making it safely up to dock at the long pier of Little Cayman Island.
It was natural for some of the new crew to harbor disfavor of Jack, many which were truly terrified of the Pirate Lord of fame. Either way, no other would or could have a negative effect on Sparrow's mind tonight as he sailed past the reefs most dangerous section; his expeditious sail through the choppy waters made the Bloody Bay even more lethal, but he was confidant of his own skills and his beloved black lady. The point Sparrow made was he did get them all through the ordeal with finesse and ease, a manner to which only Jack Sparrow could manifest from his fingertips on the helm and down to his ship. The older crewmen had marveled at their Captain's skill, in awe of how quickly he sailed through that bad patch of the cove without a single problem; he was in good form this night for certain. Many on the sidelines had chuckled as to the other reason Sparrow was in such a hurry and so precise to arrive.
All of the men which had shore leave first scurried off the ship. With them they carried hopes of a good meal at the local pub and then find a favorable brothel with an easy wench. Those who remained on watch were frightened in general of dealing with the antsy and harried Sparrow. Not only his madcap sailing tactics in getting there, but his current demeanor of rushing about. It had some men on edge. If not standing white knuckled by the rail while he passed the reef, but when their frenzied Captain docked and began barking orders in haste. Men dashed about as Jack was soon snapping at their heels. Adamant about securing his ship quickly, Sparrow knew the oncoming storm was growing stronger by each passing moment. He was no doubt in a big hurry because of a 'personal' mission too. He wanted his ship battened down and safe before he would depart for pleasures unknown, with the blonde woman he often sought while there. It was easy to see the rise of anxiety in his countenance the longer it took for them to snap to in a timely fashion.
Booker told one other member of the crew, that Sparrow was driven, savored with a sense of urgency...no manner of man or reason could interrupt his path to reach that witch. Those in the know understood, using that term loosely. Jack could see the sly peers and the dubious whispers among the men. Jack had considered them all a bad lot and influence. They were lucky that his ship had already been docked and his current mood had switched to elation in anticipation of seeing Elizabeth. Otherwise, if they'd been out at sea, Sparrow entertained the notion of having them keelhauled for their mutinous acts. Instead, Jack kept his mind focused on securing the Pearl and then 'shoo' the rest of the men safely off the ship and into port before the storm would hit. But right now the items in the hold had to be secured as well. Sparrow heard Gibbs shouting at the men down below on the port side of the ship, other crewmen looking skittish and afraid as he scanned them over to decipher what was amis.
After ten minutes of hearing Gibbs in the hold arguing his point to the men, Jack's patience had finally snapped. Stepping into the fray like a crackling whip, Jack jogged down the stairs to the hold with a glowering countenance. Men darted out of his way when Jack pranced onto the scene like a lion entering the ring. Sparrow screamed, yelled and mainly vented his frustration at those men who did not adhere to his first mate's orders. The meddling crewman stood there shocked, while Gibbs stood among them. There were a slew of men being berated by Sparrow's insults. Cowering in fear, only a few murmured feeble excuses to have their necks spared. The problem was this: the task they had to perform was too close to the spot where the dead body had been found. When hearing the reason of their disobedience, an incensed Sparrow barked and raged even more at them for stalling and wasting his precious time.
The frightened crewmen who offended him wanted to quickly hide if they could manage, but that was not possible. Those who had not been directly involved with original offenders were somehow looped in and accused by Jack as well. Although they had not crossed words or had started the original altercation with Gibbs, it did not matter. Jack was so furious and yelling so earnestly with a reddened face, he practically screamed himself hoarse. Finally disgusted, Jack demanded that if they wanted to leave the ship at all, they needed to get their work done immediately before entertaining thoughts of drink or women. And eventually they did comply, but not without feeling resentment about it and cringing over that area of the hold. All felt Sparrow's lingering fury outweighed the trepidation of guilt for crossing their first mate's orders. To be frankly honest, Gibbs had an eerie feeling in that part of the hold too and did not desire to loiter there any longer than was necessary. He too was ready for departing the ship for a much needed break.
Up on deck once more, one long and lingering glance at the cliff-side stairs to Elizabeth's cottage told the men precisely what was on Captain Sparrow's mind. They were just trying to protect their own interests and stay clear of his wrath. Those who had an inkling about his affair with Miss Swann, understood this was Jack Sparrow's way; she being the primary and driving force of his madness. They could discern the pattern of his foul moods in retrospect to how long his separation lasted from this woman. However, this foul disposition made Jack's determination a fierce and a terrifying whirlwind to witness; even worse to suffer his punishment if they struck the wrong nerve when he was worked up in one of these lathers.
None could guess the magnitude of hunger which gnawed as Sparrow's insides to the point of suffocation. That's what misdirected destruction looked like when Jack was parted from Elizabeth for too long. Besides the insatiable hunger grinding at his insides, a longing for being near her indirectly transformed Jack into a veritable ogre. He could make others miserable and the crew knew it. Jack was usually a fair and good man. This outstanding Captain was a staunch friend to those loyal to him, generally kind to most. But no matter what sex, occupation, or business being levied―with Captain Sparrow, it was a mixed bag of nuts. If he was in a gnarly disposition and hankering to see Elizabeth, then all were to be wary. If you had to deal with Jack then, it was better to run and hide, to stay away as bast you could and remain out of his focus―not have any interaction. There was no dissuading him because the call to see Elizabeth was paramount. That was the singular luxury Sparrow actively perused at every endeavor―try to cross him by getting in the way, and then you'd dearly pay for it one way or the other. Jack's new and pensive stare of fury installed terrifying fear of him in many of the newer men. The older and more sage crew of the Pearl had learned his moods quickly. Their Captain had indeed altered since the trip to Europe, but they knew not the rhyme or reason for the intensity behind it, not just merely the longing for a female. So many guessed and attributed it to his involvement with Elizabeth, knowing the rudimentary history between them. Those inclined towards superstition, had an altogether different reason in place.
So, when all matters which required the Captain's attention had finally been amended to his specifics―night had fallen. Sparrow left the ship in a huff with long legged lope, his strides determined against the balmy weather of a steadily falling mist. Rain plagued the island all day and did not look as if it was going to let up any time too soon. In fact, Jack knew in his bones it was going to get far worse before better. But he was not concerned about that. Jack was a man driven to mere insanity with a passion for a woman and the driving blood-hunger fortifying his motivation. Sparrow nearly trotted all the way up the slick and hazardous stone stairs in his quest to reach her. The wind thrashed while the weather rapidly deteriorated. Escalating drafts filled with stinging rain howled at each interval as it pelted him. Jack did not care. He mounted those stairs nevertheless amid whistling gales and intermittent periods of hard rain which hammered at him. He had no other focus or aim, just driven on reaching that single goal of getting to a woman he loved and wanting to take his mind off everything else gone wrong with the world.
It had been late in the evening by the time Jack began the daunting climb, and gauging by his progress, was anxious what time he'd eventually arrive. Would Elizabeth already be in bed? Quite possibly she might not be welcoming to an uninvited guest and more interested in remaining asleep. But for the sheer urgency of a formidable and ravenous hunger-lust, it was that which drove him onward. Sparrow rose up those stairs with single-minded purpose. He was hoping to glean enough stamina and speed to push his arrival time to be around eleven o'clock. Jack's figured it wouldn't be considered too rude for gaining entrance to Elizabeth's home, that being a somewhat respectable time. No doubt she'd be elated to discover him at her door, if not he'd use his powers to gain entry regardless of her refusal to let him darken the threshold.
Then he worried she might be peevish again. In fact, Jack was apprehensive of being racked over the coals by Elizabeth for having darted out and disappearing on her the last time. It was this very fact Sparrow anticipated some flack from her. She seemed to dislike his long absences and sudden arrivals simply because of manners and sheer protocol! What was a pirate to do? Men sailed the seas and he could not predict his coming and going accurately enough to satisfy her. This was an ongoing stickler for argument. It nettled Elizabeth to receive him at all days and hours when she was unaware of his being on the island. With this issue in mind, Jack's steps hastened and flew up the rock constructed stairwell, but not without hazard. It was extremely slippery, slick, and treacherous―no matter how superb his sense of balance and sea legs were, Jack faltered often. On these bloody wet rocks his balance skills were pretty useless, especially on this terrain when raining. These damned rocks were slick as ice as his constant slipping of boots proved time and again as a challenge. Meanwhile, Sparrow cursed and swore the entire time he scaled the pathway.
Indeed, Elizabeth Swann wouldn't have minded the late hour at all, no matter what time Jack Sparrow knocked upon her door. Those who heard rumor of Sparrow's visits with her had not yet reached William Turner's ear. He had no clue of their close and intimate liaisons. For certain, Turner would have balked hearing of their clandestine romance. Will already had enough to deal with without the drama of Jack Sparrow adding marital woes to the pile. These were perilous times, so tempting fate by crossing the Captain of the Flying Dutchman was only a fool's game. No one but Jack Sparrow would have the mettle to challenge a fate or man like that...but then none knew of his new found immortality. Jack Sparrow was now impervious to any strife Turner could solicit upon him.
Yet despite everything at stake, Jack Sparrow drove onward an upwards, scaling those challenging stairs towards the blonde beauty. For too long he had been craving to touch her. If Elizabeth was sleeping, Jack had entertained lurid fantasies how to wake her, and was highly tempted to slip into her bed―if that hurdle was indeed waiting for him. Elizabeth's house in essence was considered Jack's base while the crew stayed there at Little Cayman. And Jack Sparrow's own house on the island was generally found empty and remained that way. If anyone went looking for him there, it was a pretty good bet to assume where Jack landed. When he was at Little Cayman and not at his place, not at sea, or presiding upon the Black Pearl...it would indeed not be a far stretch to guess where he bedded.
Sparrow hoped that if Elizabeth was already asleep, she would not berate him for waking her and be glad to see him. The thought of Elizabeth's welcoming and radiant smile with open arms stirred a knot of nerves within Jack's stomach. He was impatient, excited, elated, but most of all the hunger was voracious and it nearly drove him feral with want. He had to feed soon for he had held back too long. While on his ship, in lieu of the unfortunate incident, Jack had to be mindful of his actions. He hated that Elizabeth would face the brunt of such a fierce hunger, but there was no choice. He would have to practice restraint. While his thoughts meandered, Jack pictured this pleasant fantasy of a naked Lizzie in a warm bed. A knowledgeable smirk spread upon his chiseled features. Even Sparrow's eyes blossomed with the hint of a brief smile while he resumed scaling the final and last level of skyward steps.
Almost there.
During this balmy night the wind continued to whistle and the force of those gales grew steadily stronger and colder. It was deplorable out; nasty enough that even an immortal found this weather intolerable. However, thinking about Elizabeth's soft kisses and sweet blood trickling down his throat only strengthened his determination. Jack would rage against the elements and stiffen his will power to reach her. He kept moving onward and upward despite the long and difficult hike. But then a dark thought suddenly hit him. It was a long shot, but what if Elizabeth was not even there in her bungalow? Perhaps she was down in Boddentown, or even Jackson Point? Maybe she chose not to go home in this balmy weather and was down in town after hearing about the Black Pearl docking. Elizabeth could therefore be waiting for him to show up in that pub!
But Jack could not relinquish the vision of Elizabeth waiting and cuddled within her warm bed. In that vision of wishful thinking, Jack pictured her welcoming him as usual―opened armed, opened legs, and opened lips. No, he had a feeling she was above and that sense of her presence told Sparrow he was on the right track already. And it pleased him to ponder over their greeting, how wonderful it would be when she'd see him. Sparrow knew Elizabeth desired him as much as he enjoyed her; no problems for missed opportunities of a joint venture tonight, Sparrow mused with cocky confidence. Those notions were all Jack needed to offer fuel and motivation to press on, knowing with all certainty that he would find her regardless of where Elizabeth was located, even if she hid!
The water from the broiling ocean below kicked up high into a fine spray as it hit the wall of each cliff lining the shore. The mists dissipated into the funneled and swirling air aloft. Jack's strides became quickened as the stairwell shortened up ahead. He'd already ventured most of the path, placing many a slippery step behind him which long since lapsed. He progressively trotted upwards with embolden purpose. Jack's breath emerged as a fine, smoky vapor while the dank humidity continued to drop moisture into the atmosphere. It outlined his every breath for air and expelled sighs from exhaust. The storm wasn't there yet. With an annoyed huff Jack realized it was going to become a bad squall for his docked ship to handle. Jack shoved his hands into his deep waist coat pockets scowling as he stopped to glance down and view his beloved Pearl. She was presently bobbing up and down with each white crown of the rollicking ocean waves. Yes, she would do him proud and make it though the squall for him, in that Jack Sparrow had tremendous confidence.
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