Sorry it took so long to update. I've been overcome with some serious writer's block, so the updates might be a little slow in coming until I get some inspiration. But I will keep trying! Vigilance! Vigilance! Enjoy the next chappie! See, for some reason I really love writing descriptions of storms. In the only other fanfic I wrote, an X-Men: Evolution one, there's a great big storm scene too. Lots of lightning! Yay! *runs away yelling 'wheeeeeeeee!'*
Chapter Three- "Tempest"
Captain Jack Sparrow looked up at the sky as the sun was suddenly concealed by a large mass of dark cloud. Almost as soon as the Pearl had set out late that morning, storm clouds had been gathering rapidly. Jack stood at the helm, gently maneuvering the grand vessel, perfectly in tune to its rhythm on the sea. He deeply breathed the salty air, thick with humidity and electricity from the imminent squall, and knew that this was where he belonged. As much as he enjoyed his visits to Tortuga, they could never hold a candle to the euphoria of being a pirate, footloose and carefree, traveling the wide open ocean. Nothing compared to that.
Gradually, the ship progressed further and further out to sea, all the while the storm clouds deepening, becoming more menacing. Then the storm broke. Thunder began as a slight rumble, but little by little became vast rolling crashes, rattling the helm under his grasp. There was lightning too, immense forks of lightning whipping across the sky in feral flashes of brilliance, putting the radiance of the sun to shame. Although it was nearing noontime, it was murky and sinister as midnight. The air had been disturbingly still, unnerving the crew, but now all of the wind in the world seemed directed right at the ship.
Jack struggled to hold the helm steady against the colossal currents the ship was up against. Then, the rain came. It was like the sky was falling down on the poor, windblown pirates, such was the torrent that descended. Titanic drops of water pelted the ship's passengers, mercilessly biting their flesh where it landed. The sound of the roaring wind, lashing waves, and drumming of the raindrops echoed tenfold on the hollow deck drowned out any other sound.
The waves and the rain blended together, making the world one great gloomy mish-mosh of wetness. Fighting with the helm, Jack screamed orders to his first mate, who was standing right next to him.
"Take down the sails! I can't control her in this wind!" he roared over the vociferous resonance of the treacherous gale. His mate nodded and motioned to the crew, yelling orders that fell on deaf ears, induced by the fury of the thunderstorm. The sails were brought down but Jack still had his hands full keeping the Pearl afloat. An ominous thought kept returning to his mind as he wrestled the helm: we haven't had a storm like this since… He wouldn't allow himself to even say the name. He would not become prey to such nonsense as the superstition of a woman bringing bad luck aboard a sea-faring craft. Besides, there wasn't even a miss on board.
Below deck, Lydia was just finishing off being sick for the second time. The violent rocking and nauseating rolling of the ship had jolted her from her dreamless sleep. It was black as pitch down below, and the brutal, ever-present reeling of the ship had her head spinning. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so ill. Unsteadily, she wiped her pale brow with a trembling hand.
Rapidly, another blast of thunder set the cannons to rattling, and a fresh wave set the Pearl to lurching anew. Lydia clutched the cannon until her knuckles were white and ducked her head, ready to be sick again at any moment.
The crew of the Black Pearl skittered frantically every-which-way across deck, battening down every hatch they could find, trying to secure anything of value, attempting to protect everything from the havoc the storm had wreaked, and was still wreaking, upon them.
Despite the lack of sail up in the rampant wind, the ship was being tossed recklessly; poor Captain Jack was unable to do more than keep her afloat, and at times the crew wasn't sure if he could do even that.
Hours passed in this tempestuous frenzy, though to those on the Black Pearl, it seemed like days. Eventually the storm subsided enough so that Jack could maintain a hold on the helm. The rain had slackened to a mere drenching downpour; the thunder still rattled the very bones of the pirates, although less often, and the lightning that blazed across the sky was now less bright. It was still no time to be lazing about, though; the waters were no less disturbed and the going was rough. In addition, the screeching wind still battered the vessel persistently.
However, at least now Jack could gather his wits about him and communicate with his crew without yelling himself hoarse. I think the worst of it is over, he assured himself.
Unfortunately, the wretched soul who had been in the crow's nest shouted down that there was an approaching ship to starboard. Leaving the helm to his mate, Jack ran to his quarters to retrieve his spyglass. He hurried back out to the deck with it and squinted through the rain off the starboard side. It was true; there was a ship. And most certainly one he was not at all pleased to see.
"It's Fellis," he informed his mate with contempt, taking the helm once again. "We can't outrun him; that would just lead us back into the storm, and the wind's still too strong to get the sails up just yet. We'll have to stand and fight him."
Jack shouted orders to his crew to ready the cannons and prepare to open fire. He began maneuvering the ship to be able to fire on his enemy. At least what hope Fellis had in surprise was gone. No one would be taking his Pearl any time soon, he was certain of that. He set to steering with grim determination as the rest of his men went below to the cannons.
The fury of the storm had lessened somewhat, decreasing the unruly pitching of the ship, and Lydia was feeling somewhat less queasy. She stood precariously to walk towards the porthole she had descended through only a few hours before. If she didn't get some fresh air, she was certain to be sick again, though she couldn't imagine there being anything more to come back up.
As she peered out the tiny window she could faintly decipher the outline of a ship. She wondered if this was a friend or foe of the Pearl. Unfortunately, she was abruptly conveyed from her contemplation as she heard loud, harried footsteps descending from a staircase nearby. She hastily threw herself back into her hiding place by the cannon.