AN: No reviews on the last one? -pouts- Ah well... here ya go. This one falls in line with "Fragile".
Warnings: SPOILERS for AWE!
Pairings: None
Disclaimer: If I really owned them, you would know.
.To Reign in Fire.
...the Brethren summoned the goddess and tricked her, casting a spell that trapped her in human form, meant to suffer humanity for eternity until One should seek to release her...
The world was crashing down around them. Explosions of heat and shrapnel made the area a field of peril--for what was only a secluded room in actuality.
Joshamee Gibbs shielded his eyes, cursing as another spout of flames licked violently at the air near the fivesome. He, Cotton, Marty, and Miss Swann were fighting to put out the fire that had been started not moments ago, and already it had grown into a sweltering blaze that threatened to devour them whole.
Only one of them did not attempt to spare the cabin they had become trapped within.
Captain Sparrow remained still in the center of the room, his black eyes fixed on an unknown place. He kept silent as the others panicked. His somber attention transferred to the girl.
Elizabeth was her own entity, battling alongside fellow comrades. She was frightened, he could tell by the shaking of her hands as she worked. But she was acting on instinct--doing what she had to do in order to survive. Just as he had seen her with the rifle before, as the kraken had been destroying his ship. Terrified, but strong.
She was doing what she had to.
Just as he had to do, once again.
Slowly, he turned his gaze to the window, and watched the storm developing outside. A gale wind whipped, the Caribbean waters beginning to churn and froth. She was preparing her strike. Her fury welled like a volcano before eruption. He had released Her. And he bore no regrets. Conceivably, he would be rebuked for it, but he was granted a gift of his own in return. She had not forgotten his devotion.
Perhaps it would be enough.
He looked down at his hands, which were palm-face up. As if studying his own strength, he drew them into fists, looking ahead. He steadied his breathing, his heartbeat slowly easing and becoming calm.
"Elizabeth?"
Her attention was snagged and she whirled from her task to grant him her undivided. Their eyes met, and with it: an understanding.
Jack Sparrow was preparing to give them a tale to sing about.
"Take the window. Swim to the adjacent vessel. Do it. Now. All of you," he commanded. This was not Jack. This was Captain Sparrow.
The others began to move, taking advantage of the opportunity and obeying their superior and friend, but her eyes remained set against his own. Hers were apprehensive for his safety, but they were also determined. She gave him a brusque nod.
As soon as they were gone, he wasted no time.
The sky cried and wailed, black clouds devouring all manner of light. The cabin door roared open, flames sprouting like tongues of flame from within. Through them, Jack Sparrow stepped, the tails of his dark coat carrying with the wind. Trinkets jingled, barely heard over the mounting storm. Black locks whipped across his eyes, eyes that were changed by the supernatural so subtlety, that only another immortal could sense the change.
Davey Jones knew, from the moment he turned to behold the magnificent entrance of the smaller captain. Suddenly, he did not seem so small. Jones frowned. The laughter of the Dutchman's captain died away, his men's just as so. Those who had started the fire had only kindled another's rage.
Thunder clapped and rain came now in sheets. The rigging stretched and jerked against the strain, the sails flapping violently. Lighting lit up the darkness that was only hindered by the glow of the fire.
Two legends faced off.
The Dutchman's crew shied back, looking from their captain to the pirate. Jones set his jaw, filled with madness and anticipation. If his heart was not at leave, it would be pounding within his chest like a caged beast. He despised the man before him. He sought to tear him limb from limb. This would not be a fight… this was to be an execution. Brutal and vile. Feral in every sense of the meaning.
Jones took one step forward, his peg crab leg thudding against the deck with a hollow echo. His right slimy appendage lowered and gripped the hilt of his much unused broadsword. He could not recall the last time he'd used it. He had no need for it. Only in special cases was it called upon. Opportunities that included men like Sparrow: defiant until the end. However, the crusted and barnacled blade was still stained as he drew it from his sheathe; stained by the blood of his previous challenge.
A malevolent smirk graced his mutated features and his pinscher hand came forward in beckoning, snapping and taunting.
Rain continued to pour, hissing loudly as it began to simmer the fire that traveled from the cabin, but it did nothing to quell the metaphorical flames that had only just begun to burn.
Only one would prevail in this battle of the titans. Through the storm and fire, only one would reign.
Jack Sparrow would take on the devil, with the Sea at his back. The Sea whom had turned on Her previous master and lover. She was now as one with another.
A kohl-lined pair of eyes matched the glare of the monster before him. The erupting waves that splashed over the deck and the rough waters seemed to only fuel his might. The worse it became, the stronger did he become. He fed off the chaos like an elixir.
With a dark flourish, he drew the two blades at his side, their metallic whispers lost in the annihilation.
Do you like? Lemme know! I will only update after I receive at least 3 reviews! (I'll probably cave, though, pushover that I am :D)
Oh, and please don't think of Jack OOC in this one. He's accepting duty is all. He is a jokester, but even the supposed "fool" must face responsibility in due time. Such as when he took on the beastie at the end of DMC. Same heroic mannerism, different beastie is all. The next installment will have the goofball back, I promise.
