Chapter Eleven: On the Horizon
She was too innocent. Too innocent by far.
Captain Jack Sparrow, Pirate Lord of the Caribbean Sea, the most dashing and notoriously famed pirate of the age did not develop soft spots for charming seers.
He grimaced in agitation as the needle of his compass swivelled to and fro, dancing behind the little glass face. He sometimes viewed his compass as a living person, a callous one, one who delighted in taunting him with facts that it didn't fancy revealing. He dropped it on the wood of the table with a dull thunk.
She was too innocent, too pure. True, she had her fair share of secrets and tales left untold, but didn't everyone? Her eyes were still filled with awe at every fresh sunrise and sunset at sea, and she was a stranger to the riddles and exploits with which he had been faced in the past.
However, lust, Jack realized with relief, is a much different specimen to the dreaded "L Word".
Guinevere hummed lightly to herself as she tipped out the contents of her satchel in search of her quill. Her grandmother's spectacles, a green cotton scarf, her log book, and her now-crumpled green silk dress. Delving deeper still, she plucked out something else: a carved wooden rose.
No longer than her index finger, the little timber flower was made with expertise. Its petals appeared lush and soft, and its stem was slender with several tiny, jagged wooden thorns spiking out at irregular intervals.
She held it for a moment, lost in thought, and ran a finger along the gentle curves of the petals. Guinevere sighed softly as the memories the small trinket brought washed over her: heartbreak, death, love, pain. Such terrible reminiscences entwined with such cherished memoirs, all contained in the little ornament held in her palm.
It then occurred to her just how thin the line between joy and despair truly was. It was skeletal as spider's silk that quivered underneath the impact of a droplet of silver rain.
She nestled the rose in the folds of her green dress, ensuring it could come to no harm, and climbed up to the deck, forsaking her search for the quill.
"We're close. Very, very close."
"Oh? We should hope so."
Guinevere shook her head doubtfully. "No, we shouldn't. If what I believe is correct, many more innocent men have lost their lives at the Fountain rather than travelling to it."
Elizabeth's face dropped. "I feel that if we'd half a mind, we'd turn our sails t'ward home this instant. But clearly we're insane."
Guinevere smiled in spite of her worries. "I'm inclined to agree with you on that side."
"Aye," agreed Jack from his spot by the helm, "You must indeed be insane to pursue such an adventure. And adventure is a fickle temptress indeed." While speaking the last three words he gave Guinevere a rather suggestive glance. Elizabeth either did not notice, or, more likely, pretended not too.
"I'd better fetch Liam," she said after another few minutes of talk. "He's usually awakening by now, and if he isn't, I'll have to rouse him. He'll be fussing all night if I don't." She left in the direction of her cabin.
"Stop!" Guinevere hissed at Jack the moment she was out of earshot.
"Stop what?" he drawled annoyingly.
"That!"
"Stop that what?" he smirked, clearly pleased to have made her uncomfortable.
"You know what I mean, Jack! Don't play the simpleton!"
"No, I believe I don't."
"Oh, I think you do." Guinevere narrowed her eyes and advanced a step forward, in what she hoped was a menacing manner. Perhaps threat was the best way to prove she wasn't interested…or was she? Two separate forced were battling to the death inside her mind.
"Luv, I have no…" Jack's smirk widened as he too moved forward. It was the second time in days they'd been this close. Her mind raced.
"…idea…" he continued slowly. She didn't move an inch. Her mind wouldn't fully process whether she didn't want to move or just couldn't, because the battle of thoughts was still raging.
"…you're talking about." Their eyes locked; his hands slid onto her waist. Their faces were mere inches apart, growing closer all the time.
"Jack, I don't think…"
But what Guinevere didn't think, Jack didn't find out. Like two clumsy moths faced with bright light, and with no more weight than that, their lips brushed.
"I don't think you should have done that, Jack," she said in a low but firm voice.
"You're honestly not telling me you didn't enjoy that, luv?"
Guinevere exhaled deeply, looked at him for a moment, and then roughly pushed him back. She started to walk away, and then whipped around.
"What," she snapped, "gave you the right to do that?"
Jack began to reply, a smart comment, no doubt, but stopped and frowned thoughtfully.
"Jack Sparrow, I am not going to end up as another notch on your bedpost! I refuse, you hear me?" she gave him a withering glance and flounced off in the direction of her cabin.
Jack laid a hand on the helm, frowning in thought. What had just happened?
He had been right, of course. She was too innocent. Too innocent by far.
He ran a hand across his head and breathed out slowly. His tremendous intuition of the female creature was leading him a merry dance.
His coffee-black eyes raked the horizon, then widened. A ship. A ship with white sails, anchored down far ahead.
Guinevere threw herself down onto the bed in her cabin, her head in her hands. Somewhere, deep inside her internal struggle moments before, someone had cheated. Her heart had cheated. Her heart had, unfairly, in a rush of adrenalin, betrayed a respectful battle against her better judgement and conned its way to victory.
And, she thought as a mystified jumble of emotions enveloped her, she could name another breed of person whose hearts allowed them to cheat.
Pirates.
Somewhere above, Jack gave a yell.
A/N: So so sorry about the late update. I've been really busy! Anyway, this chapter is pretty short, but I think I managed to cram a lot in, don't you guys? ;D
Review replies:
XShadowCatX: Aww, thank you! It's nice to know people genuinely like this story!
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