Title: It's A Small World After All…
Author: Drey'auc475
PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN 2: DEAD MAN'S CHEST
Rating: T
Spoilers: COTBP and DMC
Genre: Action/Adventure/Romance
Setting: After Dead Man's Chest
Summary: Jack is in the service of Davy Jones, and once again surrounded by the Undead. He has to get Jones' Heart back, or loose everything he has… and has found once again.
A/N: I adore Johnny Depp and I love Pirates, but I shall never own them (BOO HOO!)
-----Chapter 14 – The Ship of Freedom-----
Olivia was woken by a knocking on her cabin door. She groggily cracked one eye open and peered over the top of the covers. Seeing the sun shining in through the windows in horizontal slats, she groaned and dragged the quilt back over her head. The knocking came again, accompanied by a persistent rattling of the door knob. Olivia had locked it before she went to sleep.
She groaned again, and rolled out of bed. She dragged a hand through her hair messy and ragged hair before pulling back the curtain over the glass panel. Silhouetted there, was the messy dreadlocks, bandana and ivory bone of Jack.
She sighed, while smiling to herself, and grabbed the key from the chest and unlocked the door. Jack stood there, holding a bowl of porridge and as much bread as he could skillfully swipe. She smiled at the sly look on his face and let him enter. She gently closed the door after him.
Jack sat the bowl of porridge on the closed cover of the piano and patted the other end of the stool. Olivia stretched and took a seat with her back to the piano while Jack held out a spoonful of porridge for her. She eyed it carefully.
"Have you actually tasted that yet?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. He frowned slightly at her, and raised the spoon to his nose. He pulled a face and leant away from it.
Olivia laughed at him, and bit off a large chunk of bread.
"So," Jack said, taking a swig from a rum bottle that he found on top of the piano. "What's on the agenda today?"
Olivia swallowed. "Well, there are lots of things to get done. I believe that there are sails to mend, ropes to splice, cannon's to be hauled, nets to be –"
"Wait a minute," Jack said. "Are you saying that I, Captain Jack Sparrow, have to…. mend sails?"
Olivia rolled her eyes. "I know who you are, Jack, probably better than most people. And yes, I do. Unless you have a talent for cooking." Jack gave a defeated look. He was probably the worst cook known to mankind. When Jack was in the kitchen, things had a habit of going 'boom'.
"It's going to be a hard day on you," Olivia warned. "There are hundreds of jobs to do before the Pearl will be fit to sail. And I very, very much doubt that the Captain will give you any kind of consideration. Be prepared to work the hardest you have in all your life."
Jack did not look very pleased at all at this. He tried to stall going above, until Bootstrap knocked on Olivia's door and told them that Jones was looking for them.
On deck, Jones set Jack to help with hauling the huge, black sails of the Pearl aboard the Dutchman, and set him patching and mending the huge tears and rips that they had received during the attack. Jack was hunched over his own sails with a dozen of the mangled crew, with thick thread and three-and-a-half-inch-long needles while Burser, the henchman, looked on. Several times, Jack looked around to see what Olivia was doing, and got a sharp, painful blow to his shoulders from Burser. He tried not to look up, when she strode past, ordering several crewmembers who were hauling one of the cannons aboard. Jack noticed that they obeyed every order she barked, and completed them with haste and perfection. He smiled to himself. What a woman she had become…
Another blow landed on his shoulder again, and Jack hissed. He bent over his needle again and cursed loudly when he jabbed himself with it.
The day continued much like this. Jack repaired hole after hole, with volumes of black canvas that seemed to come from nowhere. The sun beat down on them, and at midday, rations and water was handed around. Jack was skipped entirely, and was very grateful when Olivia handed him a water skin. By sundown, most of the sails had been repaired, and were neatly folded below deck, awaiting the masts and the rest of the ship to be rebuilt.
By the time Burser called for supper, Jack was completely exhausted. It had been many, many years since he had worked so hard. Being the captain had come with its certain perks, and he had left all the hard work to his men. He didn't realize how hard it was for them…
Jack didn't bother going to the galley for food, though he had hardly eaten all day. Instead, he headed to Olivia's cabin, and fell, fully clothed onto her bed. Before he fell asleep (which was almost immediately), he breathed in deep, and was swamped by the scent of roses and rum, a smell that was unique to Olivia.
He was gently shaken awake several hours later. He opened his eyes, and immediately regretted it. Not that the view wasn't pleasant…
Olivia sat on the edge of the bed, with a platter of roast meat and a jug of rum. When she could see that Jack would need some persuading to get up, she set them to one side. She leant over him and touched his shoulder.
Jack rolled onto his back and hissed in pain as he felt his muscles bunch. He could feel the swell of bruising on his shoulders and his back felt as though he would never stand up straight again. His hands were stiff and sore, as were his forearms.
Olivia bent over him, concerned. "Jack? Are you alright?" He managed to shake his head.
"Hurts," he croaked.
"Where?"
"Everywhere…" Olivia took his hands and carefully examined them. His fingers were covered in red pin-pricks, from the all the times he jabbed himself, and there was a darkening indent in his index finger and thumb from the pressure he had applied on the needle in the effort to pull it through the thick canvas. His palms were inflamed, from the friction caused by the heavy thread.
She gently traced her fingers over the inflammations and the bruising. She then raised his hands to her lips and kissed all his fingers, as though it would make the pin-pricks go away. She looked up at Jack's face and saw that his eyelids where beginning to droop closed again. She leant in and kissed his forehead.
"It'll be easier tomorrow," she whispered to him. "I promise."
Jack woke the next morning, to extreme pain in his extremities, and severe cramps in his arms and back. He cursed as he tried to climb out of bed and ended up sliding to the floor.
There, next to the bed, was a jug of rum, and Jack drank as much of it as he could. He then sat on the floor and glanced about the room, noticing that it was empty.
A moment later, Olivia stuck her head in the door.
"Ah, you're up," she said.
Jack snorted. "Yeah, but I wish I wasn't." Olivia smiled slightly.
"Ready for more work?" she asked almost innocently.
"Only if tha' work required diggin' me own grave." She laughed.
"Something a little easier today: splicing ropes."
"Goodie," Jack replied sarcastically.
Olivia led him to the hold, where several of the crew were already cutting lengths of rope and splicing the two ends together. Olivia told Jack to sit and begin, while she went up onto the deck. Jack began his work, and had to admit that it was much easier on him. Jack found that he was quite good at splicing rope, having once had to do it for three days in a row on the very first ship he had been a cabin boy on. His captain had told him that he had to splice and mend approximately ten yards of rope. Jack had achieved it, but had collapsed off his chair by the end. Jack had gotten himself a half a keg of rum for completing his task.
Midday came and rations were handed out again, and this time Jack was included. He got a little less than his far share, but he didn't particularly mind.
A ruckus came from above them, and Jack heard Olivia's voice as she barked orders.
"Easy, easy! Lower her gently. Gently! Steady, now, steady!" There was a thundering crash that shook the ship slightly, the sharp crack of a cat-o'-nine-tails whip and the pain-filled cry of a crewman. "I said 'steady', Hicks! What is it that you don't understand?! That is my angel there, you swine!"
Jack had no doubt as to what 'angel' Olivia was referring to. The thing that Jack remembered Olivia loving about the Black Pearl so much was the angel on the prow of the ship. She was fairly simple, any intricate features worn away by the ocean. She held a dove in her outstretched hand, both the dove and herself poised in flight. For Jack, she represented freedom.
Not long later the hubbub above quieted down and they all went back to work. Finally, the pile of rope became non-existent, and Jack stood and stretched. He made his way for the stairs that led to the galley, when a shadow filled them. It was Burser.
"You ain't finished yet, Sparrow," he said menacingly. "You're all needed on deck." Jack and the others followed Burser up the stairs and stepped out into the sun. His eyes were unaccustomed to the brightness, and he stumbled a little. Burser shoved him forwards and Jack stumbled back into the line. They were ordered to take up some lines that led over the deck and onto the partially completed foredeck of the Pearl. Jack stopped and stared at his beauty. She was almost complete. Large sections had been rebuilt, and she sat high in the water without the weight of a hundred crew and two dozen cannons. She was still magnificent as ever, even without her main masts. In fact, they were ready to be erected.
Jack heard the swish of a whip and, as quick as his reflexes would allow him, threw his arm up to deflect it. But he never felt it. Olivia caught the whip and yanked it from Burser's grip. He had been about to whip Jack for loitering. Burser looked away from Olivia, backed away, taking up the rope in Jack's place. Olivia stood next to Jack.
"There she is, Jack," she said softly. "Our Pearl; our ship; our freedom." Olivia gave the order and the first mast was raised. Slowly, inch by inch, foot by foot, the mast was raised to vertical. Crewmen on the newly built deck of the Pearl secured the mast and completed the supports while the others held it upright.
"Don't ye need a shipyard to do this?" Jack asked.
"That's the advantage of having crustaceans as the constructors," Olivia replied. "They can build out here on the ocean where man normally can't breath underwater. They can see the leaks and repair them without even having to put the ship into a dry-dock."
"Ah. Neat." It took a while for the mast to be secured, and eventually the second mast was ready to be lifted. Three hours later, the two main and the stern masts were in place, secured and propped. Olivia left his side, ordering that seventeen yards of rope be rowed over before nightfall, ready for tomorrow when the crew would begin the rigging.
As the sun set behind the Pearl, Jack watched his ship as it rocked on gentle swells. His ship, his life, everything he had wanted in his life. When he and Bootstrap first commandeered her, he had no idea that she would bring him such happiness.
A figure stepped next to Jack and he looked over to see Bootstrap looking over at the Pearl too. He glanced at Jack and smirked at him.
"What ye thinkin' of, Jack?" Bootstrap asked.
Jack shrugged. "Jus' thinkin' 'bout that first time we tried to steal 'er."
Bootstrap chuckled. "You mean the time that Olivia beat the pants off ye and we ended up in the brig?"
Jack didn't miss a beat. "Yep, that one. " Bootstrap chuckled again.
By this time, the lamps had been lit and dinner was called for in the galley. Olivia had disappeared after her last order and Jack saw no more of her that night. He sat with Bootstrap and they regaled old tails of years gone by.
It was very late when Jack finally went back to his cabin. Bootstrap told him that tomorrow was going to be another long day.
AN: And so, Jack and his fair ship are almost ready to set sail again. Please read and review, because I love the input. Ta.