The Black Pearl was flying over the turquoise waves, ebony sails whipping
out with the powerful sea wind, her strong wooden body defying the elements
as she had for so many years now.
Meg stood at the bow, her golden hair billowing about her face. The expression she wore was almost surreally blissful, eyes coolly taking in the world with open acceptance, mouth set in a peaceful crescent of a smile. Her skirts ballooned about her stationary figure, but her hands were folded in front of her and her head again angling upwards.
She would live here for maybe the rest of her life, but as long as she had Jack (oh yes, and maybe Jacques too- sometimes) she would be more than content. Life as a ranger aboard the Black Pearl had suited her more than anyone would have thought; what she was now was hardly comparable to the perfect, spoiled child she had been only a month ago.
She had been born a commodore's daughter. But here, with the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow and right at the bow of the Black Pearl, was where she belonged.
Meg stood at the bow, her golden hair billowing about her face. The expression she wore was almost surreally blissful, eyes coolly taking in the world with open acceptance, mouth set in a peaceful crescent of a smile. Her skirts ballooned about her stationary figure, but her hands were folded in front of her and her head again angling upwards.
She would live here for maybe the rest of her life, but as long as she had Jack (oh yes, and maybe Jacques too- sometimes) she would be more than content. Life as a ranger aboard the Black Pearl had suited her more than anyone would have thought; what she was now was hardly comparable to the perfect, spoiled child she had been only a month ago.
She had been born a commodore's daughter. But here, with the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow and right at the bow of the Black Pearl, was where she belonged.