۞

As the rain kept sheeting down the outer walls of the Ó Madáin Inn, it's strong, field stone walls withstood the stormy weather as it had for centuries... there were seldom storms within those thick walls, and during this night, the Inn had gathered her family close to witness the arrival of a new one to their waiting arms. The mother and father of this tiny new life had withstood such storms of life as these old walls and thatched roof had, and had remained just as strong...

All was quiet in the great room... everyone had retired to slumber for while, except for William, who was quietly drinking a cup of coffee in the kitchen, gathering his own thoughts. Elizabeth was napping upstairs, readying herself to help Meg with the next day's feast, and Janie was sleeping soundly. William was not tired, but exhilarated... he had told everyone that all would be on his watch until dawn, when all would gather to celebrate the Spring Equinox and partake of the Waters, as they had every spring since the 1700s. Only this time, William smiled, there would be even more cause to celebrate their discovery of the Waters long ago, in the hot, sticky swampland of the Spanish Territory of Florida...

As he sat and sipped his coffee from his large, strong mug, his eyes looked out into the great room and he beheld a sight that warmed him as much as the fires that he was feeding with peat... a task that he had done for centuries in this place that had welcomed him and Elizabeth as home. Ahhh, William thought... I never truly had a home until we came to Eire with Jack. This place is in my blood, he pondered, as he watched the man who had pulled them all together, as much as they had resisted for a time, to turn them all toward a future that had seemed so uncertain... odd, he thought, that those dark times had only been a mere heartbeat in the time that would end up lying before them, after all.

Putting his mug down upon the scarred old table top, and wrapping his hands around its warmth, as the rain pummeled the kitchen windows, William thought of just how long ago all of those times were, if he were a mere mortal... how brief a time it was that he was bound to the Flying Dutchman, it ended up... ten years... it seemed like ten minutes after they found the Waters, he mused... looking back up and out into the great room, once again, William smiled. He thought, as he had so many times as he looked at his eccentric cousin, what an odd, peculiar dread locked package for hope to be wrapped up in... found bobbling about on high seas, in a leaky dinghy, with his own proud colours up on the skinny mast, and a round chart from a Singapore bath house spread out on the dinghy's splintering bench... The Sparrow's Revenge... the Sparrow's revenge, indeed.

Aye, William chuckled, such an odd, peculiar, rum soaked, wobbly kneed, wonderful package Jack Sparrow was...he was always hopeful... and never willing to give up on any of them... any of them except himself and his Janie... oh, how nervous he was when William and Elizabeth had made him come back to this place to reconcile with her... and what a wise decision that was, to help appease those demons in Jack's damaged mind... demons that had goaded him into nightmares that only someone who had experienced with him could help him fight back, taking her own form of a sword into her freckled, broad Irish hand to protect him from his own mind...

Sighing contentedly, William got up to refill his mug, and he ran his hand over his scarred chest. For all of the man's eccentricities and ways of finding methods to annoy a person, William had discovered, very early on, how worthwhile that scoundrel really was... and whilst it had been mentioned over the years, William and Elizabeth hoped that Jack knew just how much they both loved him...

William sat back down, and smiling, watched Jack, out by the fireplace, the fire lighting him up with flickering light, as he slowly rocked in the new chair, a blanketed bundle cuddled in his arms, softly singing to his brand new daughter...

۞

"...In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty, 'twas there I first met with sweet Molly Malone..."

Jack was completely oblivious to the storm as it raged outside... the peace of this very moment was nearly overwhelming to him, and it was seldom that he felt such peace except when he was wrapped in love in the strong arms of his beloved, sleeping in their bed just beyond the great room, or at the helm of his beloved ship. This peace was even made more different ... he kept his strongest of feelings to himself as a younger man, but the Locker had broken that part of him.

As he rocked, he thought of those times... how long ago was it, he thought, that a part of himself washed over the very edges of World's End and into purgatory, never to be recovered... that part of himself that was not truly a part of himself. That part of himself that gave the air of being so selfish and uncaring, that Mask of the Great and Legendary Captain Jack Sparrow... ahhh, he smiled. The mask that was slapped over his face with blood and pain, by Thomas Ó Madáin and Cutler Beckett. Gazing into the fire, he put the hazy faces that his mind was trying to put to those names into the embers... where they belonged. He was weary of them, and wished to think of them no longer...

"... cockles and mussels, alive, alive-oh..."

Looking down into the blanket in his arms, he smiled broadly as a pair of warm, brown eyes was awake, and looking up at him as he rocked gently, to and fro...

In his own language of Irish Gaelic, he whispered to wee Maggie, "Ah, my baby, do you remember me singing that to you before you were born? Do you recognize me voice?"

He resettled himself in the rocking chair, in order to let the firelight illuminate them both... they studied each other..."I sang to you nearly every night whilst your mama was carrying you... I wanted you to know me..."

Maggie's shining eyes focused upon this soft, husky sound that was so soothing to her... she kept doing her best to follow his own eyes, his own face as he spoke to her... pleased, Jack continued humming, as his stockinged toes pushed the stone floor rhythmically... "Alive, alive-oh..."

Taking a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers, he finally said, quietly, "We've not been properly introduced... I'm your papa..." he swallowed hard, "... and I love you."

An odd feeling was forming in his heart, like as if this wee one were wrapping her own love around him, as he held the baby close. His words began to go back and forth between Gaelic and English as he spoke... as sometimes he lost himself to both languages and did not differentiate between them..."I love you wif all o' my black heart, an' I have need t' tell you things."

Tilting his dark, trinketed head to one side, slowly, he said, with very deep feeling, "I was made t' feel ashamed of wot I was for a long time... singled out an' abused for being dark skinned an' th' bastard son of a pirate an' a gypsy woman... I am telling ye these things, now, Maggie, as they will not be mentioned again...ye won't know wot I went through, an' wot your mother went through, as well..." He leaned down and kissed his tiny daughter's cheek, as she cooed, softly... he laid his cheek against hers for a moment, feeling her warm breaths against his skin...

The fire popped and crackled, as he went on, "You will 'ave a good life, wif family all around ye t' protect ye an' keep ye from harm... I won't have any less for ye. You will be free t' do and become as ye wish, but most of all..." Jack took another deep, emotional breath, "I will not allow anyone t' hurt you. In any way. Ever."

Looking all about the room, and fighting those damnable tears in his eyes, once again, he swallowed hard and whispered, "There 'ave been circumstances in my life an' in my heritage tha' have burned th' desire for freedom into every fiber of my an' your mother's beings... th' desire for independence an' for not bein' beholdin' t' any other man for wot we do..."

Pausing, he looked deeply into his newborn's eyes, with those incredible long lashes like his own, and he struggled to say,"Yer papa's paid a steep price for much of his freedom, lassie... an' sometimes I need help wif things... but I've found out th' hard way, tha' there is no shame in reaching out fer help, now an' again..."

"... many migh' think tha' th' life I lead, now, is settlin' down, my Maggie... givin' up on some of me freedom of another century...But wot is freedom, baibin? It's doin' wot ye want t' do, when ye want t' do it, no more, no less...'tis bein' yourself... an' bein' on th' high seas with salt air in yer face, an' no boundaries, an' in th' deep, soft, green forest o' Connemara where you can hide in th' shadows for a lifetime... I have all o' those things, my treasure, wif adventure at my beck an' call, out beyond tha' cove, an' out among those mossy stones, trees an' th' mountains... but th' best freedom of all is tha' I have love around me... those who accept me...I have your mother to love, an' who loves me back... yer Cousin William, out there...I can't imagine our lives wifout him an' your Cousin Izzy, now... we 'ave our home here in Ireland, an' th' Waters t' sustain us...wifout a doubt, I'm th' freest man in th' world! I am finally where I wanted t' be. all those years ago! "

His voice choking a bit, he said, softly,"I'm finally what I truly am...a man of th' sea, wif a lovin' woman t' come home to... an' it took me 300 years t' finally get back t' wot I was before others tried t' take it all away..."

A tiny hand found it's way up toward him, and as it found it's way to wrap itself around one of the captain's long, slender fingers, it was as if she were understanding every word that he had just uttered... his vision became blurry as those small, perfect caramel coloured fingers curled around his own, and held onto it. He struggled for a moment, and finally whispered, "Ohhhh, Maggie... look a' tha'!... you're a natural at the wheel wif those hands... I can't wait t' introduce ye t' th' Black Pearl..."

And he held her close to his chest, laying his cheek against her soft copper curls, and they could feel each other's hearts beating...

"Cockles and mussels, alive, alive-oh..."

۞

Little Mary Jane Ó Madáin could smell the aromas of freshly baked bread, and of the ferns as the mists arose from the soft earth... there was the softest hint of patchouli in the air, and of the tangy salt air of the seas out beyond the cliffs. She was sitting next to Jack so closely in the sunshine that she could take in all of those wonderful aromas that she associated with him and his mother, and was savoring those things that she loved so dearly before she would be forced to go homeward to her own form of purgatory under her cold father's fancy shingled roof... oh, how she preferred more simple life.

She could feel the moss beneath her feet, in between her toes, as she and wee Jackie sat in a clearing out in the bright warm sun that was dappling the glen around them with light..."Come on, Janie, let's run!" he was saying in his husky little boy voice, as he got to his feet, his chocolate eyes sparkling, his dark hands taking hers and trying to pull her to her own bare feet. "Mama must have something out of the oven and cooling by now!"

Getting up from the rock that she had been sitting on, she gripped Jackie's hand in her own freckled one, and she giggled, "Yes! Let's run!" and together, they ran pell mell down through the woods, her long curls bouncing around her face, her fancy little dress flying high around her knees... smaller Jackie was laughing, his own long black curls flying about his angular brown face and neck, trying to keep from falling down, as his small feet kept losing track of themselves. His hand that wasn't hanging onto hers was flying about wildly, as he ran, and Janie began to lose her breath from laughing at his odd way of running...

As she always did, little Mary Jane almost lost every ounce of breath that she had as she caught sight of her... Magdalena Sparrow... in all of her breathtaking beauty, standing at the doorway of the tiny cottage, waving at them to come inside..."Gingerbread, you two! Freshly baked, and just right for little hands! And fresh butter!"

They scampered inside, and as Mary Jane sat down at the small table, her eyes caught sight of such a thing of beauty that she almost could not believe her eyes... laying upon the small cot that was Jackie's bed, was the most beautiful example of Maggie's talented lace making skills that Janie had ever seen..."Ooooh, whist," was all that Mary Jane could say, as Maggie turned to her as she sliced the ginger bread, and said, "Do ye like it? I just finished it!"

Reaching out, she gently caressed Mary Jane's cheek, and said...

Janie awoke with a start, her hand to her cheek, and her eyes full of sleep... she laid there in her own bedchamber, trying to wake up from a dream so vivid that she was almost confused for a moment... finally rubbing her eyes, she wondered how she could dream something that was so real that it nearly made her feel like her heart would break in two... her hand went to her cheek as if Maggie, herself, had just caressed it, and instinctively, she looked over at the cradle that had now been placed next to her side of the bed... and she stared...she rubbed her eyes again, and stared harder...

... laid across the cradle, gently, in the soft pink light of the small Victorian lamp that glowed upon the dressing table, was a wonder of 18th century bobbin lace... Janie could not believe her eyes, for perhaps it was not all a dream...

...a gift from another's hand, from across the divide from the Other Side... a beautiful dress and bonnet for a baby girl, a cream coloured confection of lace and Irish linen... with mother of pearl buttons, and embroidered flowers and tiny little sparrows all along the hand stitched hem...

It was as if it were made from the Irish mists, themselves, and as Jack mysteriously appeared at the doorway as if he had heard something, with baby Maggie in his arms, and William by his side, they all looked around the bedchamber. A soft, warm breeze filled the room with the fragrance of the forest's pine needles, making the ribbons on this very special gift dance merrily... and then was gone...

Janie's face almost glowed where her cheek had been caressed... and she knew. Reaching for her baby, she knew that Magdalena Sparrow had never left them, after all...and the tiny pink ribbons of the gift left behind still danced, as if they also knew...

۞

"Ken! Oh my God, KEN! Eddie! Kevin! Come here! Hurry up!" Annie was yelling from her computer desk, as she frantically was opening the email from Elizabeth's email address... from the subject line of "In keeping with the Family Teague tradition", Annie knew that the stormy weather that they had been watching upon the Weather Channel had produced more than torrential rain in Connemara...

Ken was saying, "It's still storming over in Ireland..." as he gathered the boys around, and Annie muttered, "This is also sent to Biddy! Oh, Ken, you don't suppose... I hope they're alright, as the baby is due in a few weeks, and..." Suddenly her hand slapped over her mouth, and all of them stared at the image that appeared over the computer monitor...

With accompanying text in a beautiful font that Annie had never seen before, as if it was written with a quill dipped in an inkwell of another age, their eyes beheld an image of such loveliness that they all fell silent. It was a close up ... one of Katie Norrington's specialties... of the dark, bronzed face of Captain Jack Sparrow, his eyes soft and serene, his cheek pressed up against the freckled cheek of an exhausted, rosy cheeked Janie. Her own eyes were not exhausted, though, but sparkling and wet with happiness...

Intermingled with tangled auburn curls and long, loose black wavy hair were the bright copper curls of a tiny one whose round, owlish brown eyes were almost filled with surprise... her perfect little mouth was shaped like a little pink "O!" as her mother and father cuddled her in between themselves, their faces forming a beautiful, exotically coloured shape of a heart!

Annie breathed, "Ohhhhh..." as she began to read the text aloud...

"Captain Jack Sparrow and his Pirate Lass of Connemara, Janie O'Madden-Sparrow, wish to announce the birth of the newest crew member of the Mighty Black Pearl... please welcome our new baby girl, born March 17, 2008, in Connemara, County Galway, Ireland... she sailed into our arms on Saint Patrick's Day, surrounded by a loving family that burned the midnight oil to help her navigate into new moorings...

She has been duly christened 'Magdalena Jane O'Madden-Sparrow' after her grandmother and her mother, and she weighs anchor at around 5 pounds... we're not sure about that one, as she was born four weeks prior to what was charted, in her mama's and papa's own kip at home, delivered by midwife Joshamee Gibbs, assisted by her Seanathair Captain Teague, her Col Cúigear William, Izzy, young Wills Turner, the Norrington family, and of course, Meg Gibbs... most importantly, her papa guided her mama with loving hands and soothing words, and her mama held the course, straight and true ...

She is healthy and strong, and was born during a bad storm and against long odds, just like her father and her Cousin Wills were...as you can see, she looks just like Papa, with her mother's beautiful, thick auburn curls and wishfulness for freckles, some day.

She is our pride and our joy, and our wee Maggie proves her papa's theory that 'not all treasure is silver and gold'..."

To be continued... with the ending of our story...

۞