Aftermath
By: L'Morgan
Disclaimer: I guess I really do need to remind you all that anything and everything related to Pirates of the Caribbean, their characters and settings are all the property of Disney - Disney - Disney - nobody - but -Disney ---- I-just-borrowing-to-play-with-and-giving-back. Only Disney can make money on anything to do with Pirates of the Caribbean. NOT ME!
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Summary: Port Royal lies in ruins.. The battle has been waged... The lost captain has been recovered, so what else could possibly go wrong?
Chapter 21: Tavern Tales and Nightmares
The moon shone softly in through the bedroom window, illuminating the large bed. The figure nestled peacefully in its center stirred with a vague mumble, brows creasing across his forehead. After a few moments of stillness he tossed onto his back, fists locked onto the sheet, breathing faster and hard now.
"No! No it can't be!" he shouted hoarsely as he struggled with some unseen opponent, tears making tracks down his cheeks. He seemed to quiet into a soft sobbing; only tossing his head back and forth occasionally. Then suddenly he stiffened, sweat breaking out on his forehead. His breath quickened and he whimpered as he jerked hard, half tossing the sheet to one side.
"No, no, please no -" he pleaded in a tearful whisper. Suddenly he gasped hard,
"Barbossa NO!" he shouted in a panicked tone as he bolted upright in the bed, instantly trying to free himself from the covers. Blindly Jack staggered up and to the nearest wall, coming awake as he reached it with a dull thud. He grabbed at the doorframe, breathing hard and trembling still. Finally he looked around and realized where he was, thought and awareness returning slowly. He crossed to the tall wardrobe and with shaking hands felt inside for a bottle.
Damn, nothing at all. Elizabeth was up to her games again. and now was not the best of times to have to search the entire house in the dark looking for one measly little bottle of rum. He paused; looking around, took a step and nearly tripped over his own boots that sat before the wardrobe. He thought for only a moment, then opened the closet again and pulled out a shirt and taking his boots in his hand, returned to the bedside to sit down and pull on his pants, followed quickly by his boots.
'No damned rum burner was going to make Jack Sparrow into some kind of bloody tea-toler!' he thought as he dug in the nightstand table and pulled out the red bandana. Within short minutes he was quietly closing the front door of the residence behind him and then stood for a moment clad in his long coat and hat. At least it was all down hill from here to the town. He tucked one pistol into his sash and jingled slightly from the goodly supply of coins in his pocket as he crossed the steps and headed off into the dark night.
~ * * ~
Reynolds stood at the bow of the small vessel and stared out over the water. Before him rose the mountains of Jamaica, looming blackly and solid, blocking out the stars and sky that otherwise stretched from horizon to horizon. It was about time they were getting there. Never again would he let that man supply him with a ship.. If one could even call this floating wreck of an ancient schooner a ship to begin with. This thing had taken days longer than it should have to reach the island.
Not that he was in any hurry - trying to find a man who was already long dead and gone was quite a waste of his time. All he needed was proof of the man's death and he should be able to collect on the bounty, body in hand or not. That was all he was interested in - and the sooner he found his proof and was on his way, the better.
~ * * ~
Jack strolled along on his way down the hill, taking care not to trip over the carriage wheel ruts worn into the road. You would think that somebody would have filled those in for the Governor, but recent events probably made wheel ruts seem rather insignificant.. Which they were unless you happened to be walking, where they then threatened to make you fall and twist an ankle. He realized that probably not many walked this road to begin with.
He took his time, not being in any hurry really. This was truly the first time he had had off by himself to try a little exercise and see how it felt without anyone else trying to tell him how he was doing. He really was sick and tired of all the fuss and bother. Each day it was harder not to just make for the safety of his ship and damn anyone who got in his way. The few hours spent out to meet Marcus on the BonAimee had only rather poignantly reminded him of how much he missed his own home - and yes the Pearl was his home, not merely a form of transportation.
He paused as he reached a small rise in the road. He could feel his heart pounding and a definite hitch still in his chest when he tried to take a deeper breath. Damn - why did it take so little still? This mess in his lungs was taking a lot longer to get over than any cold he'd ever had. He made a face to himself and sighed. Oh well, he'd also had wounds that took a lot longer - much, much longer than this in fact. At least it was not quite as incapacitating really as one would think from the way the doctor carried on. Allowed downstairs under supervision indeed!
He looked back from where he had come and frowned mildly. Marcus wasn't there now to insist he ride on the horse they'd secured to toss Gillette's body over. Definitely better to keep going down hill than to even consider what suddenly seemed to be a definite slope upwards to the house he had just left.
Oh well, the doctor would definitely notice he was missing early in the day. Chances were very high he wouldn't have to walk back at all really. With a grin and soft chuckle at envisioning the eventual confrontation to come with said good doctor, he struck out for the town below, taking note of where the nightlights burned brightly on the surviving streets.
It was about time Jack Sparrow made his presence known, and it would probably be awhile before he got a chance to do it again once the doctor caught up with him. Laughing softly now to himself he began humming the pirate's song as he set off.
~ * * ~
Commodore Norrington sighed as his horse trotted easily along towards the town. He had been roused out of a sound night's sleep at 3 in the morning for what, some barely-past-his-teens midshipmen's badly stammered report that Jack Sparrow was paying a visit to the Wooden Peacock Tavern in the very center of Port Royal?
He would have just as gladly gone back to bed had it not been for the lads' singing a part of a song that he claimed Sparrow was gladly teaching the entire tavern. The words - 'Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me' did not sound like something the lad would make up.
He turned onto the street in question and paused. There was no mistaking the loud lyrics that drifted through the air each time the door opened or closed. Making a face of dismay he dismounted and tied his horse there at the end of the street.
He entered the smoke filled room and stepped aside to consider the situation. Oh they were singing alright, but he didn't see hide nor hair of Sparrow himself. He moved over to the bar and ordered a grog for himself, then turned to study the room.
After a few moments there came the clunk of heavy boots on the staircase to his left, along with a woman's laughter and then none other than Jack Sparrow himself. Norrington sighed as he watched the pirate pause to 'reassemble himself', running his sash around his waist and tying it securely.
"Jack, are you sure you don't want to stay and play? I know lots more games -" the girl invited coyly, and the pirate captain grinned.
"Darlin'- much as I adored playin' with ye - a bed's just not the place I want to be spending the day. You're sweet lass, sweet as they come. Maybe next time we can try the rest?" he said lowly as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and pressed something into her hand.
She looked at it and her eyes grew wide at the sight of the gold coin.
"Anytime Captain Jack - anytime!" she said and rose up on her toes to give him a long and rather involved kiss on the lips. He didn't seem to object and then she practically scampered off with her prize. The pirate seemed amused as he touched a finger to his lips and chuckled softly, as did the bar keep who was currently drying out cups near Norrington.
"Now that's the second one that's had him up there tonight! He goes up again and I'm gonna charge that man the rate for a room for the night!" the barkeeper told Norrington in a confidential tone. Norrington smiled and nodded - wondering if the man even recognized him without his uniform and other accruements. Apparently not!
Neither did Jack it seemed as he didn't even look twice as he stepped up to the bar not even 6 feet away and ordered a rum. The pirate paid for it and quickly downed a large portion of it. Commodore Norrington stepped over nearer to him with a rather mischievous look to his eyes.
"So, Captain Sparrow, the good doctor has you out for a little early morning visit to the taverns of our good town does he?" he asked as he clapped the pirate on the back soundly.
Jack startled, turned and abruptly choked, eyes wide in astonishment. He would have fallen over backwards had the Commodore not already had him by the lapels of his coat. He couldn't help but grin at the pirate's stricken look. He laughed as he stood Jack on his feet and tidily brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders.
"Well yer certainly about the last person I expected to finding a place like this Norrington," the pirate finally muttered and the military man smiled as he considered him closely for a moment.
"I could say the same for you Jack. What brings you down here, really?" he asked.
The pirate looked at him with a glint in his eye and Norrington expected som glib retort - but just as quickly the glint died to be replaced with a candor he hadn't seen since the night of the 'Rover'.
"Why am I here? Nightmares actually, mate. The rum-burner's gone and hid all the bottles at the residence - so I figured I'd better take a walk is all" he said and Norrington looked mildly surprised, then nodded.
"You're not sleeping well?" he asked casually and the pirate arched an eyebrow with a deeply amused look as he leaned close to him.
"Good lord man, I do believe you're supposed to be thinking of throwin' me in irons for conductin' my little one man raid here on yer town, not asking after how I slept!" he said in a whispered aside and now the Commodore laughed mildly at him.
The pirate looked up at him and rolled his eyes mildly. "I should have just had Marcus escort the Pearl out of the bay that night and head for that horizon," he muttered as if to himself and Norrington frowned mildly.
"Yes, frankly I was surprised when you didn't. Any particular reason why you didn't?" he asked and the pirate took a swallow from his mug and made a face of dismay and shrugged as he stifled a long yawn first.
"Couldn't quite believe Young Mr. Turner would be party to anyone keeping me here until Reynolds came back. Marcus didn't think so either much, the other three did." He said quietly to his cup and Norrington considered him for a long moment.
"Must be a lonely world when you feel you can't trust anyone, Jack." He said lowly, in a surprisingly gentle tone. The pirate looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes.
"Takes all kinds Commodore - takes all kinds. Tell me man - can I trust you?" he asked in utter sincerity and the military man met his stare solidly.
"Actually, yes you can, Jackson Stuart, yes you can. I may be the only military man on this island that you can trust - even with your life." He said softly. The pirate before him froze solidly and stared at him intensely.
"Why don't you tell me why you'd think I'm this Jackson character?" he said back finally and Norrington looked around the room, then leaned closer to the man.
"I have a horse at the end of the street. How about if we each get a couple of these bottles of rum and go someplace else to talk - you choose the location. My office is closest." He offered and Jack shook his head.
"My ship." He said and Norrington considered him.
"Your word you won't go sailing off come dawn" he asked seriously. The pirate made a brief face and looked disappointed, as if that had been exactly his intent.
"If you insist. You don't say anything to my crew though - not a word. Let me explain." He said and the Commodore nodded readily.
~ * * ~
Commodore Norrington let the horse plod along at its' own pace through the still rubble strewn streets, one arm around the waist of the shorter man who sat very stiffly before him, the other hand with the reins. The closer they got to the water, the more severe the damage and the more rubble, not to mention the lack of light. What used to be a short 10 minute trip now took 45 minutes at least.
"Does yer' horse bite?" Jack asked him suddenly out of the blue, and Norrington had to smile.
"No, military horses do not bite." He said and felt the pirate rub at his eyes and finally relax somewhat with a muttered 'it' better not'.
"Don't you know any animals that don't bite?" the military man asked him and the one nodded.
"Ships' cat doesn't bite - she scratches. Course you never see the thing mostly. All I know is its big and black and if you hear hissing in the hold, you send Gibbs down with a fish and let him deal with it. Only way I know it's not a tom cat is one time it had kittens down there." He said around a yawn.
"Kittens? On your ship?" he asked and the one nodded.
"Think some of em have gotten off at different ports, but Gibbs brought 'em to me when he first found 'em. What am I gonna do, throw 'em overboard? They were cute. Ya' see the lil' ones sometimes sleepin' with the crew or hangin' around the galley. Haven't seen a mouse in months though." He said heavily.
Norrington smiled but said nothing as he shifted his weight backwards and pressed the pirate back against him a bit more. The horse plodded on and after several minutes the Commodore could feel the man's heavy weight settle back even more against him.
"You're not going to sleep are you Jack?" he asked the shorter man before him.
"Course not" came the very drowsy reply and Norrington had to grin to himself. If someone had told him last year - even just weeks ago that his arch enemy pirate nemesis was going to be practically falling asleep in his arms, and that he would gracefully make allowances for the same, he would have called that person daft, and then some!
He pulled the horse to a halt there in the rubble. He waited, but the pirate's only reaction was for his breathing to turn deep and even and slow. For just a minute the Commodore fully realized that he could easily turn the horse around right now and take the pirate back to the Governor's residence. He could take him to the fort with its brig. He could take him far into the jungle and make sure he never returned - and the pirate wouldn't even know it until it was too late for him to do anything or for anyone to help him.. The man had fallen asleep.
Oh how much the world had changed since that earthquake - how much indeed had changed!
He nudged the horse forward again and let his thoughts drift as it picked its way through the night, down towards the dark water. Just before they reached the dock, it occurred to Norrington that riding up with Jack sagging against him, his hands still and limp, his head turned to the side and features slack, just might not be the most reassuring way for the man's crew to first see them. God only knows what they would assume he had done to the man, but it probably would not be a very peaceful greeting.
The military man nudged the pirate and felt him slowly stir, his head lifting. He could not help but be extremely amused when Jack looked back at him as if in disbelief.
"I had hoped this was all just another bad dream. Don't quite know how you're going to explain bringin' me back here 'tead of someplace else." Jack said dryly and the Commodore shrugged with a smile.
"I will agree - a lot recently has had a certain unreal feel to it Sparrow. Don't suppose you'd consider showing me those cannons of yours, since we're being so 'unrealistic'?" he asked as he got down and offered the man a hand to guide him down and steadied him at first as the pirate chuckled at his request but said neither yes or no.
Within a few minutes the Pearl's night watch crew had greeted their captain quite happily, stared at Norrington in open curiosity, and then they had entered Jack's cabin. Norrington sat in the appointed chair at the side of the table and watched as the pirate lit several different lanterns and shed his hat and long grey coat and the gun belts and his other 'effects' and left them on the table.
The pirate set glasses before each of their chairs and one of the bottles of rum by Norrington. The lamps in the room illuminated it very clearly, unlike before. There came a soft knock on the door and at his bidding it opened and AnaMaria stepped in to consider the two of them.
"Jack? Don't get me wrong but its' awfully late at night for you to be showin' up here. Much less with a guest like - um - 'Him'. I know that doctor didn' let you go this late. Are we expectin' Cook to show up as well?" she asked and he smiled a bit.
"Oh, eventually - but not anytime soon. The man sleeps pretty soundly at night. Actually this all started cause I wanted a little rum and Missy Turner hid it all! I decided to take in the hospitality of the taverns of Port Royal and this one showed up. I have a few things to discuss with the Commodore is all. Nothing to worry about." He said easily and she nodded with a rather wary look still.
"You want some coffee? There's fresh brewed from not long ago." AnaMaria said and he smiled more.
"I'd love some. Is there a light down there?" he asked as he set the other bottles in the cabinet.
"I'll bring it up. I was gettin' some anyway." She said, casting a wary look at Norrington and Jack noticed and smiled.
"It's alright Ana. I invited him here." He told her and she sighed.
"Alright - but if anybody says we be kidnappin' him, there's gonna be trouble." She warned on her way out and Jack looked very amused.
"Umm - you mind if I change into one of my own shirts Commodore? The one I wore into the bay didn't exactly survive very well. Mine are a lot softer." He asked as he opened the wardrobe nearby. Norrington gestured that he didn't care, and then set about opening the bottle. All it took was a casual glance for the military man to confirm the dragon tattoo on the man's shoulder. Just like Lord Stuart had a dragon tattoo on one shoulder.
The pirate claimed the high-backed leather upholstered chair at the end of the table as soon as he'd donned the shirt and looked down to work at the buttons and seemed to get exasperated with them as he stifled a yawn.
A moment later he looked up with surprise as other hands came in to assist and he found Norrington on one knee beside his chair.
"Commodore - I can dress myself, savvy?." He said a bit sharply and the one smiled.
"Yes, so I saw. Let's just say I'd rather we got to spend more time discussing whatever it is we came here to discuss, rather than have it occupied with buttons? If that's' all right with you?" he remarked as he did them quickly and efficiently and the pirate chuckled softly as he let him and instead reached for his own glass that now held rum.
"What's this?" the Commodore asked with a nod at a smallish round scar that had tinges of pink that had not yet completely faded on the upper left quadrant of the pirate's chest. Jack frowned as his hand come up to the same place.
"Gunshot wound - pistol" he said and Norrington frowned.
"I can see that - but unless that was extremely superficial, you should be one very dead pirate" he observed and that made the other smile.
"Oh I nearly was! 'S not quite a couple of years ago so still kinda sensitive. They couldn't take the ball out - said it's still in my lung. I think the shot being in there makes it more sensitive than some other things are." He said and Norrington frowned mildly at him.
"You aren't the first one I've heard say that about a place where the shot has been left in. Who shot you? Usually I would eventually hear about something like that if it was a military officer." Norrington observed, then looked rather embarrassed as the pirate sharply raised an eyebrow at him.
"Well I suppose I am glad the military allows its members to congratulate themselves and each other when they manage to kill people. 'Fraid it wasn't a military officer though." He said rather dryly and Norrington sighed as he considered the man.
"I'm sorry Jack - I didn't mean it like that. For one, if it was a military officer and I hadn't heard about it - I would have to wonder if it had been done in an underhanded way. Believe it or not, the military doesn't condone murdering people in their sleep, no matter what they're guilty of." He said and Jack considered him for a moment then shrugged.
"Actually that was my father's doing - and no there were no charges. Its' not murder if the person you try to kill is a pirate. Some places would have given him a reward if he'd succeeded." he said a little resentfully and Norrington felt his conscience turn uneasily.
"Was it your choice it be left in?" he asked and the one shook his head.
"I didn't really wake up for weeks afterwards. They said it was too deep and since it was in my lung, going after it would have definitely killed me. Actually I'd fallen in a big mud hole and it had been a warm afternoon for awhile so the mud had gotten plastered all over me, then dried over it. Sealed it almost like a bandage until somebody found me the next day. Now how's that for luck?" he asked and Norrington arched an eyebrow.
"Is this why your friend Saxon was so adamant the other night?" he asked and the pirate smiled and shrugged with one shoulder.
"Most likely. He just so happened to run into me purely by accident my first couple weeks or so back on the water and stopped to visit - and it was still pretty bad. Gibbs invited him I heard later. Nobody even woke me up to tell me he was comin' aboard! I wake up with John Saxon himself tapping on me like he thinks I'm some kind of marketplace melon. The man is a loon at times, an absolute loon. He's seemed to forget about it since then. So do I, mostly. Odd man that one can be. Then all of a sudden here he got to actin' like he's a few sails sort of a mast. He's not usually like that." He said as Norrington finished with the buttons and the pirate looked pleased.
'Thank you. Oh, you have no idea how good it feels to be home." Jack groaned as he practically collapsed back heavily into the chair, eyes closed and he seemed to relax deeply there. He barely moved at all for a full minute or two.
"Maybe the feature you should be trying out is the bed, and we can have our conversation at another time Jack?" Norrington asked and the pirate shook his head as he sat up and sipped at his rum. They both looked over as there came a tapping at the door and the woman pirate returned with a silver tray and on it two steaming mugs with cream obviously already in one - quite a bit by the looks of it. Jack quickly claimed that one and thanked her with a wink and a smile and she quietly left.
Neither the pirate nor the Commodore noticed the door left just slightly ajar behind her.
"No son - there's plenty of time for sleeping later. What you said back at the tavern, that isn't something I can afford to take lightly, not when it comes from a man like yourself. You're not the kind to just be pulling my leg or playing with me and we both know that." He said, seeming to come more awake and Norrington sipped at his own glass.
"Now, I'd really like to hear just why you would ever think that the likes of me is this lord - whatever the name is?" Jack said earnestly and Norrington smiled mildly.
"Well, here's what happened Jack. When you were bringing back the survivors and all - well my image of you had been pretty much assumed from your reputation. You'd never really made Port Royal a focus of your activity. When you were gone after that, I dug out our file on you from the closet. We have shelves full of boxes of files and it took me forever to find yours. They weren't in any kind of order at all. I'd never read your file before, but the stories that were in it all fit what I'd heard." He said and the man smiled mildly.
"Glad to hear you think so," he said as if amused. Outside the door, Ana stood in the shadows, debating whether or not she should leave. She didn't really actually mean to eavesdrop, but she could also tell with just one look that Jack was not what she would call up-to-par. If he were staying and ordered them to sail, they would do it, but both her and Mr. Gibbs would take steps to see he didn't stay at the helm as much as he would prefer or think he should, for a little while yet by the looks of him.
After all, it was her job to be able to tell when the Captain needed a break or assistance of some sort, as well as when it was the winds of trouble that were heading their way. And now here he shows up not only in the dead of night, but with Norrington of all people? For Jack's sake, somebody else needed to know exactly what was going on between the two men! She melted a little further back into the shadow and heard Norrington clear his throat mildly.
"Well, then when we thought you had been killed and Reynolds came, and by then I'd had my adjacent see to it that the files were put in alphabetical order. I went to put yours away and right there in the box was one with the name Jackson Meriwether Stuart on it. Reynolds had never mentioned that Jackson might have a file with us for any reason. Stuarts' file has nothing at all added after the start of 1680. Your file had nothing in it before 1680. But it did say there was some sort of royal intervention in Stuart's behalf in 1679, but no details were known." He told the pirate who looked up to give him a mild frown.
"That's it?" he asked and Norrington sighed.
"I - well - I've burned the files Jack - both of them. I thought you were dead and gone and so was he - otherwise I could show you the page that - well - made me very much aware that you are this missing lord." He said and Jack arched an eyebrow at him and blinked hard.
"You burned the files?" he asked a bit incredulously, head tilted to one side and Norrington gave him an embarrassed look and shrugged.
"I probably shouldn't have, but well, well there's no excuse. I suppose I'll have to make you a new one now." He said and the Jack laughed softly as he parked a booted foot up on the edge of the table and sipped at his cup. Outside, AnaMaria found herself struck practically speechless.
Ol' Norrington had gone and destroyed Jack's file? Was the Commodore completely daft? He was thinking Jack was some Lord now? She heard Jack laugh softly and could imagine the amusement in his expression. Oh he must think this was the funniest thing he'd ever been 'charged with' yet! Bein' a lord now?
"So what was so alarming with these files that a proper military man like yourself would be driven to burn the things? I'll wager you haven't burned a military file in your whole life aside from then?" Jack said and now Norrington considered him very seriously for a very long moment.
"Well, I was pretty much amazed at the story of Stuart's past as a merchant shipper, and then for 7 years as a privateer. then a few years as a pirate. But - well - there was a paragraph titled distinguishing characteristics. It said that Jackson Stuart wears his dark hair long with locks and knots and braids and has coins and beads and such woven in it - is known for his fondness of rum, but give care because he can carry out intricate and detailed escape plans even when intoxicated - it mentioned that he has 2 gold teeth, a molar and incisor on the same side, a dragon tattoo on his shoulder, the pirate brand on his right forearm - and can be identified in part due to his frequent use of hand gestures when speaking. Ummm - I suppose that shouldn't remind me at all of a certain pirate I know?" he asked and Jack stared at him, turning his coffee mug around absently, expression totally neutral. Norrington had to stop himself from squirming under the man's intense stare.
Jacks' stare was nothing compared to the wide eyes of the woman pirate that stood frozen in shock outside that door though.
"We can not even bother discussing the braided hair and coins and beads - the hand gestures, well you probably aren't as aware of them as I am, but it's a very distinguishing trait. Yes, you seem to have gotten a couple more gold teeth since then, and it doesn't mention the sparrow tattoo you have - but you do have a dragon tattoo on your shoulder."
"And you think I'm the only person out on the whole sea with those matching qualities?" the pirate captain asked quietly as he dug in his pocket and the gold coin appeared to weave in and out of his fingers absently and Norrington smiled at him mildly.
"Well - there IS the ring Lord Stuart wears that supposedly has the initial JMS and the seal of the house of Stuart inside it. I'll wager if you take off that ring, that's what is inside it?" he said with a gesture at the pirate's right hand.
Jack followed his look, then leaned forward and seemed to think for a moment. Finally he took off the ring and slid it over to the military man, who looked inside it, and swallowed dryly and quickly gave it back. He raised his eyes to find the pirate now giving him a very hooded look.
"Then, Lord Jackson Meriwether Stuart, I presume?" Norrington said, a bit awed sounding and the pirate inclined his head with a singular nod and small smile as he wove the coin deftly.
"Yes, Commodore Norrington, that would indeed be me." He said softly.
Outside that door, AnaMaria stifled her own gasp. She knew he didn't come from around here. had seen the ring on his hand as long as she'd known him. How could he not have told her? Even just hinted at it? Her eyes misted over at the sting of realizing that he hadn't even trusted her that much. Surely he knew she'd never tell anyone else - didn't he?
"Were you the privateer all those years?" she heard Norrington asked quietly and the man shook his head.
"I told you the truth when we were playing cards. I've only ever held a marque for one purpose, one mission and never before or after. Jeffrey had been for a good number of years though before he turned rogue raider. The file you had was apparently the 1680 edition. That royal intervention you found - that was Charles and I making an accord whereby I would leave my father's poor ships alone. Changing my name was part of that. I didn't want anything to remind me of my father. I had just lost the Pearl to Barbossa, but Charles didn't know anything about that at the time." He said with a shrug.
"There are about 5 different versions of the files. I have copies of them all. I think I have the only actually accurate one to tell you the truth though, the 6the edition if you will." He added with a gesture at the wall case of books and papers over to the side of the room and Norrington followed his gesture and looked a little surprised.
"Why are there different versions?" he asked and the pirate half smiled.
"In 1685, soon after he came to the throne, King James sent some nice men in big boats to find me. They cornered me out in the Leewards - 5 men o' war. You would have thought they were coming after the whole bloody Spanish Armada instead of me on one little two-mast schooner. I still managed to sink one and put another into the shoals before they managed to take the mast." He said and Norrington blinked hard at him.
"Two man o' wars - with a schooner?" he asked and the one seemed amused.
"It's not always how many guns Commodore - most often its' where you aim them. A man o' war's weakest side is her horizontal decks - especially the top one. You drop a few balls through the top and there are few of them that don't instantly turn near to scuppers. Give me a fast ship with a few good guns and I'll take on anything on the water. And probably win." He said with just a tinge of malice to his voice and the military man considered him and nodded.
AnaMaria frowned deeply. Normally Jack let the boys handle the cannons. Although he did take great delight in having them play at 'target practice' now and then when they had some slow days. She'd seen those way up in the air arcing balls he'd taught them how to fire. He did it as a game though. see who could get it to go up the highest and still hit the target he'd picked out - bottle of his best rum to the winner of the day.
He'd never once said they'd use that against a man o' war. On the other hand, it made her feel kind of warm and fuzzy to know that he'd thought of it - and even managed to teach it without alarming anyone. Couldn't even tell her his real name, but he's gonna make sure they can sink a man o' war if it becomes necessary? She heard the coffee cups clink against the table.
"What did they want?" Norrington asked and the pirate sighed with a grimace of dismay.
"King James wanted me to be a privateer for him." He said and made a face of dismay again.
"I gather you got - how did you put it - a bit upset?" Norrington asked and the man smiled at him.
"Well at least the man had the decency to say he'd been standing too close when I opened a door and that's how he got the black eye, instead of having me thrown in the Tower." He said ruefully and Norrington's eyes widened a bit.
"You hit him?" he asked and the one sighed and shrugged with a gesture of innocence.
"I get a bit upset when 5 man o' war show up to surround me Commodore. Any man who is daft enough to tell me that was his doing and oh by the way he wants me to be a bloody privateer for him - back then? Well yeah I hit the bastard. Not sure if I really meant to, but I did." He admitted a bit ruefully.
"You say you're not a privateer - but since the war with the French started, you've taken a good 10 of their ships every year - and only a few others. Are you on better terms with King William now? Can I trust that you haven't assaulted the man at least? Is it that you won't take a marque because of that one time with your brother?" he asked and Jack laughed softly as he settled back in his chair and sipped at his cup.
"I'd rather die than be a privateer for any man." He said lowly and Norrington frowned at him mildly. Outside the door, AnaMaria frowned even more. She knew Jacks' opinion of privateers, he'd never made any secret of that.
"So, William hasn't asked that of you?" the Commodore asked and the pirate looked a bit melancholy for a brief moment.
"No - actually it's a bit the other way around now. It's the Grand Alliance that keeps trying to pressure me into it and its King William who says no you can't make him if he says no." he said and Norrington considered him, tilting his head to one side.
"I don't see the difference between you suddenly taking 10 French ships a year for yourself, and your taking 10 a year for the Alliance." He asked and the one nodded and sighed.
"Has to do with me being a member of the Brethren of the Coast. The Alliance doesn't want any of us hiring out as mercenaries, but none of the Brethren really want to take a marque either. The members of the Grand Alliance don't like the accord we have between ourselves." He said and Norrington shook his head.
"I don't really understand what you mean?" he asked and the pirate shook his head.
"Members of the Brethren generally consider themselves to be men without a country for the most part. But they also have families and backgrounds like everyone else. When something like this war happens, yes, you find a few - myself included, who will tend to suddenly take a lot more ships from the country that is at war with their homeland. They don't want to split the take with the crown so they wont take a marque, but they take the ships anyway." He said and the military man frowned.
"And that is a problem?" he asked and the pirate shrugged.
"Is for them you could say. We look at it from the angle of, if a French ship is coming into the Caribbean - its fair game anyway. If I happen to find it because I'm frequenting that area, to the Brethren I just happened to be the pirate who got it. Now, there are French pirates who also belong to the Brethren - they target English ships coming into the Caribbean. I have to look at that as the ship as fair game, and they just happened to be waiting around in the right area and were the ones to take it." He said and Norrington nodded.
"And this sits well with all of you who are members?" he asked and the pirate smiled.
"Supposedly. The members of the Grand Alliance would love to have one of us accept their particular marque and tell them who these pirates are that sit and wait for their country's ships - so they could send bounty hunters like Reynolds after them. Its' not supposed to matter if they are all part of their one alliance, but there are a lot of 'backroom' issues is what I suspect. I cant' give them those names. I won't. I refuse to." He said rather stubbornly.
"Jack - how do you know a member of the Brethren didn't sell you out to the French? If Reynolds is a bounty hunter, they had to get information from someplace that you're the one who's been taking their ships." He asked and the pirate nodded with a rather glum look.
"Yeah, that's want Mr. Gibbs has been trying to tell me these last several months now - nigh on close to a year since they started showing up." He said as he rose and paced the room slowly, and Norrington frowned with a concerned look.
"You've had bounty hunters showing up especially in just the last few months? This year? More than before?" he asked and the pirate nodded. AnaMaria gulped, then scowled, training a strong grip on her rapidly rising anger. Bounty hunters?? Since when had they ever encountered bounty hunters!
And why the hell would Jack be willing to tell Gibbs they were after him for a bounty and never mention it to her! Pirate hunters they had had their fair share of - but a bounty on Jack alone? She didn't know if she wanted to strangle him for not telling her or do something to make sure nobody ever got near him! Damn the bloody blasted pirate! She growled to herself
"Definitely a few more than usual anyway." Jack told him as he neared the door, nudging it closed with an absent touch.. Making it impossible for the woman pirate outside to hear anymore.
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Disclaimer: I guess I really do need to remind you all that anything and everything related to Pirates of the Caribbean, their characters and settings are all the property of Disney - Disney - Disney - nobody - but -Disney ---- I-just-borrowing-to-play-with-and-giving-back. Only Disney can make money on anything to do with Pirates of the Caribbean. NOT ME!
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Summary: Port Royal lies in ruins.. The battle has been waged... The lost captain has been recovered, so what else could possibly go wrong?
Chapter 21: Tavern Tales and Nightmares
The moon shone softly in through the bedroom window, illuminating the large bed. The figure nestled peacefully in its center stirred with a vague mumble, brows creasing across his forehead. After a few moments of stillness he tossed onto his back, fists locked onto the sheet, breathing faster and hard now.
"No! No it can't be!" he shouted hoarsely as he struggled with some unseen opponent, tears making tracks down his cheeks. He seemed to quiet into a soft sobbing; only tossing his head back and forth occasionally. Then suddenly he stiffened, sweat breaking out on his forehead. His breath quickened and he whimpered as he jerked hard, half tossing the sheet to one side.
"No, no, please no -" he pleaded in a tearful whisper. Suddenly he gasped hard,
"Barbossa NO!" he shouted in a panicked tone as he bolted upright in the bed, instantly trying to free himself from the covers. Blindly Jack staggered up and to the nearest wall, coming awake as he reached it with a dull thud. He grabbed at the doorframe, breathing hard and trembling still. Finally he looked around and realized where he was, thought and awareness returning slowly. He crossed to the tall wardrobe and with shaking hands felt inside for a bottle.
Damn, nothing at all. Elizabeth was up to her games again. and now was not the best of times to have to search the entire house in the dark looking for one measly little bottle of rum. He paused; looking around, took a step and nearly tripped over his own boots that sat before the wardrobe. He thought for only a moment, then opened the closet again and pulled out a shirt and taking his boots in his hand, returned to the bedside to sit down and pull on his pants, followed quickly by his boots.
'No damned rum burner was going to make Jack Sparrow into some kind of bloody tea-toler!' he thought as he dug in the nightstand table and pulled out the red bandana. Within short minutes he was quietly closing the front door of the residence behind him and then stood for a moment clad in his long coat and hat. At least it was all down hill from here to the town. He tucked one pistol into his sash and jingled slightly from the goodly supply of coins in his pocket as he crossed the steps and headed off into the dark night.
~ * * ~
Reynolds stood at the bow of the small vessel and stared out over the water. Before him rose the mountains of Jamaica, looming blackly and solid, blocking out the stars and sky that otherwise stretched from horizon to horizon. It was about time they were getting there. Never again would he let that man supply him with a ship.. If one could even call this floating wreck of an ancient schooner a ship to begin with. This thing had taken days longer than it should have to reach the island.
Not that he was in any hurry - trying to find a man who was already long dead and gone was quite a waste of his time. All he needed was proof of the man's death and he should be able to collect on the bounty, body in hand or not. That was all he was interested in - and the sooner he found his proof and was on his way, the better.
~ * * ~
Jack strolled along on his way down the hill, taking care not to trip over the carriage wheel ruts worn into the road. You would think that somebody would have filled those in for the Governor, but recent events probably made wheel ruts seem rather insignificant.. Which they were unless you happened to be walking, where they then threatened to make you fall and twist an ankle. He realized that probably not many walked this road to begin with.
He took his time, not being in any hurry really. This was truly the first time he had had off by himself to try a little exercise and see how it felt without anyone else trying to tell him how he was doing. He really was sick and tired of all the fuss and bother. Each day it was harder not to just make for the safety of his ship and damn anyone who got in his way. The few hours spent out to meet Marcus on the BonAimee had only rather poignantly reminded him of how much he missed his own home - and yes the Pearl was his home, not merely a form of transportation.
He paused as he reached a small rise in the road. He could feel his heart pounding and a definite hitch still in his chest when he tried to take a deeper breath. Damn - why did it take so little still? This mess in his lungs was taking a lot longer to get over than any cold he'd ever had. He made a face to himself and sighed. Oh well, he'd also had wounds that took a lot longer - much, much longer than this in fact. At least it was not quite as incapacitating really as one would think from the way the doctor carried on. Allowed downstairs under supervision indeed!
He looked back from where he had come and frowned mildly. Marcus wasn't there now to insist he ride on the horse they'd secured to toss Gillette's body over. Definitely better to keep going down hill than to even consider what suddenly seemed to be a definite slope upwards to the house he had just left.
Oh well, the doctor would definitely notice he was missing early in the day. Chances were very high he wouldn't have to walk back at all really. With a grin and soft chuckle at envisioning the eventual confrontation to come with said good doctor, he struck out for the town below, taking note of where the nightlights burned brightly on the surviving streets.
It was about time Jack Sparrow made his presence known, and it would probably be awhile before he got a chance to do it again once the doctor caught up with him. Laughing softly now to himself he began humming the pirate's song as he set off.
~ * * ~
Commodore Norrington sighed as his horse trotted easily along towards the town. He had been roused out of a sound night's sleep at 3 in the morning for what, some barely-past-his-teens midshipmen's badly stammered report that Jack Sparrow was paying a visit to the Wooden Peacock Tavern in the very center of Port Royal?
He would have just as gladly gone back to bed had it not been for the lads' singing a part of a song that he claimed Sparrow was gladly teaching the entire tavern. The words - 'Yo ho, yo ho, a pirates life for me' did not sound like something the lad would make up.
He turned onto the street in question and paused. There was no mistaking the loud lyrics that drifted through the air each time the door opened or closed. Making a face of dismay he dismounted and tied his horse there at the end of the street.
He entered the smoke filled room and stepped aside to consider the situation. Oh they were singing alright, but he didn't see hide nor hair of Sparrow himself. He moved over to the bar and ordered a grog for himself, then turned to study the room.
After a few moments there came the clunk of heavy boots on the staircase to his left, along with a woman's laughter and then none other than Jack Sparrow himself. Norrington sighed as he watched the pirate pause to 'reassemble himself', running his sash around his waist and tying it securely.
"Jack, are you sure you don't want to stay and play? I know lots more games -" the girl invited coyly, and the pirate captain grinned.
"Darlin'- much as I adored playin' with ye - a bed's just not the place I want to be spending the day. You're sweet lass, sweet as they come. Maybe next time we can try the rest?" he said lowly as he gave her a kiss on the cheek and pressed something into her hand.
She looked at it and her eyes grew wide at the sight of the gold coin.
"Anytime Captain Jack - anytime!" she said and rose up on her toes to give him a long and rather involved kiss on the lips. He didn't seem to object and then she practically scampered off with her prize. The pirate seemed amused as he touched a finger to his lips and chuckled softly, as did the bar keep who was currently drying out cups near Norrington.
"Now that's the second one that's had him up there tonight! He goes up again and I'm gonna charge that man the rate for a room for the night!" the barkeeper told Norrington in a confidential tone. Norrington smiled and nodded - wondering if the man even recognized him without his uniform and other accruements. Apparently not!
Neither did Jack it seemed as he didn't even look twice as he stepped up to the bar not even 6 feet away and ordered a rum. The pirate paid for it and quickly downed a large portion of it. Commodore Norrington stepped over nearer to him with a rather mischievous look to his eyes.
"So, Captain Sparrow, the good doctor has you out for a little early morning visit to the taverns of our good town does he?" he asked as he clapped the pirate on the back soundly.
Jack startled, turned and abruptly choked, eyes wide in astonishment. He would have fallen over backwards had the Commodore not already had him by the lapels of his coat. He couldn't help but grin at the pirate's stricken look. He laughed as he stood Jack on his feet and tidily brushed imaginary dust off his shoulders.
"Well yer certainly about the last person I expected to finding a place like this Norrington," the pirate finally muttered and the military man smiled as he considered him closely for a moment.
"I could say the same for you Jack. What brings you down here, really?" he asked.
The pirate looked at him with a glint in his eye and Norrington expected som glib retort - but just as quickly the glint died to be replaced with a candor he hadn't seen since the night of the 'Rover'.
"Why am I here? Nightmares actually, mate. The rum-burner's gone and hid all the bottles at the residence - so I figured I'd better take a walk is all" he said and Norrington looked mildly surprised, then nodded.
"You're not sleeping well?" he asked casually and the pirate arched an eyebrow with a deeply amused look as he leaned close to him.
"Good lord man, I do believe you're supposed to be thinking of throwin' me in irons for conductin' my little one man raid here on yer town, not asking after how I slept!" he said in a whispered aside and now the Commodore laughed mildly at him.
The pirate looked up at him and rolled his eyes mildly. "I should have just had Marcus escort the Pearl out of the bay that night and head for that horizon," he muttered as if to himself and Norrington frowned mildly.
"Yes, frankly I was surprised when you didn't. Any particular reason why you didn't?" he asked and the pirate took a swallow from his mug and made a face of dismay and shrugged as he stifled a long yawn first.
"Couldn't quite believe Young Mr. Turner would be party to anyone keeping me here until Reynolds came back. Marcus didn't think so either much, the other three did." He said quietly to his cup and Norrington considered him for a long moment.
"Must be a lonely world when you feel you can't trust anyone, Jack." He said lowly, in a surprisingly gentle tone. The pirate looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes.
"Takes all kinds Commodore - takes all kinds. Tell me man - can I trust you?" he asked in utter sincerity and the military man met his stare solidly.
"Actually, yes you can, Jackson Stuart, yes you can. I may be the only military man on this island that you can trust - even with your life." He said softly. The pirate before him froze solidly and stared at him intensely.
"Why don't you tell me why you'd think I'm this Jackson character?" he said back finally and Norrington looked around the room, then leaned closer to the man.
"I have a horse at the end of the street. How about if we each get a couple of these bottles of rum and go someplace else to talk - you choose the location. My office is closest." He offered and Jack shook his head.
"My ship." He said and Norrington considered him.
"Your word you won't go sailing off come dawn" he asked seriously. The pirate made a brief face and looked disappointed, as if that had been exactly his intent.
"If you insist. You don't say anything to my crew though - not a word. Let me explain." He said and the Commodore nodded readily.
~ * * ~
Commodore Norrington let the horse plod along at its' own pace through the still rubble strewn streets, one arm around the waist of the shorter man who sat very stiffly before him, the other hand with the reins. The closer they got to the water, the more severe the damage and the more rubble, not to mention the lack of light. What used to be a short 10 minute trip now took 45 minutes at least.
"Does yer' horse bite?" Jack asked him suddenly out of the blue, and Norrington had to smile.
"No, military horses do not bite." He said and felt the pirate rub at his eyes and finally relax somewhat with a muttered 'it' better not'.
"Don't you know any animals that don't bite?" the military man asked him and the one nodded.
"Ships' cat doesn't bite - she scratches. Course you never see the thing mostly. All I know is its big and black and if you hear hissing in the hold, you send Gibbs down with a fish and let him deal with it. Only way I know it's not a tom cat is one time it had kittens down there." He said around a yawn.
"Kittens? On your ship?" he asked and the one nodded.
"Think some of em have gotten off at different ports, but Gibbs brought 'em to me when he first found 'em. What am I gonna do, throw 'em overboard? They were cute. Ya' see the lil' ones sometimes sleepin' with the crew or hangin' around the galley. Haven't seen a mouse in months though." He said heavily.
Norrington smiled but said nothing as he shifted his weight backwards and pressed the pirate back against him a bit more. The horse plodded on and after several minutes the Commodore could feel the man's heavy weight settle back even more against him.
"You're not going to sleep are you Jack?" he asked the shorter man before him.
"Course not" came the very drowsy reply and Norrington had to grin to himself. If someone had told him last year - even just weeks ago that his arch enemy pirate nemesis was going to be practically falling asleep in his arms, and that he would gracefully make allowances for the same, he would have called that person daft, and then some!
He pulled the horse to a halt there in the rubble. He waited, but the pirate's only reaction was for his breathing to turn deep and even and slow. For just a minute the Commodore fully realized that he could easily turn the horse around right now and take the pirate back to the Governor's residence. He could take him to the fort with its brig. He could take him far into the jungle and make sure he never returned - and the pirate wouldn't even know it until it was too late for him to do anything or for anyone to help him.. The man had fallen asleep.
Oh how much the world had changed since that earthquake - how much indeed had changed!
He nudged the horse forward again and let his thoughts drift as it picked its way through the night, down towards the dark water. Just before they reached the dock, it occurred to Norrington that riding up with Jack sagging against him, his hands still and limp, his head turned to the side and features slack, just might not be the most reassuring way for the man's crew to first see them. God only knows what they would assume he had done to the man, but it probably would not be a very peaceful greeting.
The military man nudged the pirate and felt him slowly stir, his head lifting. He could not help but be extremely amused when Jack looked back at him as if in disbelief.
"I had hoped this was all just another bad dream. Don't quite know how you're going to explain bringin' me back here 'tead of someplace else." Jack said dryly and the Commodore shrugged with a smile.
"I will agree - a lot recently has had a certain unreal feel to it Sparrow. Don't suppose you'd consider showing me those cannons of yours, since we're being so 'unrealistic'?" he asked as he got down and offered the man a hand to guide him down and steadied him at first as the pirate chuckled at his request but said neither yes or no.
Within a few minutes the Pearl's night watch crew had greeted their captain quite happily, stared at Norrington in open curiosity, and then they had entered Jack's cabin. Norrington sat in the appointed chair at the side of the table and watched as the pirate lit several different lanterns and shed his hat and long grey coat and the gun belts and his other 'effects' and left them on the table.
The pirate set glasses before each of their chairs and one of the bottles of rum by Norrington. The lamps in the room illuminated it very clearly, unlike before. There came a soft knock on the door and at his bidding it opened and AnaMaria stepped in to consider the two of them.
"Jack? Don't get me wrong but its' awfully late at night for you to be showin' up here. Much less with a guest like - um - 'Him'. I know that doctor didn' let you go this late. Are we expectin' Cook to show up as well?" she asked and he smiled a bit.
"Oh, eventually - but not anytime soon. The man sleeps pretty soundly at night. Actually this all started cause I wanted a little rum and Missy Turner hid it all! I decided to take in the hospitality of the taverns of Port Royal and this one showed up. I have a few things to discuss with the Commodore is all. Nothing to worry about." He said easily and she nodded with a rather wary look still.
"You want some coffee? There's fresh brewed from not long ago." AnaMaria said and he smiled more.
"I'd love some. Is there a light down there?" he asked as he set the other bottles in the cabinet.
"I'll bring it up. I was gettin' some anyway." She said, casting a wary look at Norrington and Jack noticed and smiled.
"It's alright Ana. I invited him here." He told her and she sighed.
"Alright - but if anybody says we be kidnappin' him, there's gonna be trouble." She warned on her way out and Jack looked very amused.
"Umm - you mind if I change into one of my own shirts Commodore? The one I wore into the bay didn't exactly survive very well. Mine are a lot softer." He asked as he opened the wardrobe nearby. Norrington gestured that he didn't care, and then set about opening the bottle. All it took was a casual glance for the military man to confirm the dragon tattoo on the man's shoulder. Just like Lord Stuart had a dragon tattoo on one shoulder.
The pirate claimed the high-backed leather upholstered chair at the end of the table as soon as he'd donned the shirt and looked down to work at the buttons and seemed to get exasperated with them as he stifled a yawn.
A moment later he looked up with surprise as other hands came in to assist and he found Norrington on one knee beside his chair.
"Commodore - I can dress myself, savvy?." He said a bit sharply and the one smiled.
"Yes, so I saw. Let's just say I'd rather we got to spend more time discussing whatever it is we came here to discuss, rather than have it occupied with buttons? If that's' all right with you?" he remarked as he did them quickly and efficiently and the pirate chuckled softly as he let him and instead reached for his own glass that now held rum.
"What's this?" the Commodore asked with a nod at a smallish round scar that had tinges of pink that had not yet completely faded on the upper left quadrant of the pirate's chest. Jack frowned as his hand come up to the same place.
"Gunshot wound - pistol" he said and Norrington frowned.
"I can see that - but unless that was extremely superficial, you should be one very dead pirate" he observed and that made the other smile.
"Oh I nearly was! 'S not quite a couple of years ago so still kinda sensitive. They couldn't take the ball out - said it's still in my lung. I think the shot being in there makes it more sensitive than some other things are." He said and Norrington frowned mildly at him.
"You aren't the first one I've heard say that about a place where the shot has been left in. Who shot you? Usually I would eventually hear about something like that if it was a military officer." Norrington observed, then looked rather embarrassed as the pirate sharply raised an eyebrow at him.
"Well I suppose I am glad the military allows its members to congratulate themselves and each other when they manage to kill people. 'Fraid it wasn't a military officer though." He said rather dryly and Norrington sighed as he considered the man.
"I'm sorry Jack - I didn't mean it like that. For one, if it was a military officer and I hadn't heard about it - I would have to wonder if it had been done in an underhanded way. Believe it or not, the military doesn't condone murdering people in their sleep, no matter what they're guilty of." He said and Jack considered him for a moment then shrugged.
"Actually that was my father's doing - and no there were no charges. Its' not murder if the person you try to kill is a pirate. Some places would have given him a reward if he'd succeeded." he said a little resentfully and Norrington felt his conscience turn uneasily.
"Was it your choice it be left in?" he asked and the one shook his head.
"I didn't really wake up for weeks afterwards. They said it was too deep and since it was in my lung, going after it would have definitely killed me. Actually I'd fallen in a big mud hole and it had been a warm afternoon for awhile so the mud had gotten plastered all over me, then dried over it. Sealed it almost like a bandage until somebody found me the next day. Now how's that for luck?" he asked and Norrington arched an eyebrow.
"Is this why your friend Saxon was so adamant the other night?" he asked and the pirate smiled and shrugged with one shoulder.
"Most likely. He just so happened to run into me purely by accident my first couple weeks or so back on the water and stopped to visit - and it was still pretty bad. Gibbs invited him I heard later. Nobody even woke me up to tell me he was comin' aboard! I wake up with John Saxon himself tapping on me like he thinks I'm some kind of marketplace melon. The man is a loon at times, an absolute loon. He's seemed to forget about it since then. So do I, mostly. Odd man that one can be. Then all of a sudden here he got to actin' like he's a few sails sort of a mast. He's not usually like that." He said as Norrington finished with the buttons and the pirate looked pleased.
'Thank you. Oh, you have no idea how good it feels to be home." Jack groaned as he practically collapsed back heavily into the chair, eyes closed and he seemed to relax deeply there. He barely moved at all for a full minute or two.
"Maybe the feature you should be trying out is the bed, and we can have our conversation at another time Jack?" Norrington asked and the pirate shook his head as he sat up and sipped at his rum. They both looked over as there came a tapping at the door and the woman pirate returned with a silver tray and on it two steaming mugs with cream obviously already in one - quite a bit by the looks of it. Jack quickly claimed that one and thanked her with a wink and a smile and she quietly left.
Neither the pirate nor the Commodore noticed the door left just slightly ajar behind her.
"No son - there's plenty of time for sleeping later. What you said back at the tavern, that isn't something I can afford to take lightly, not when it comes from a man like yourself. You're not the kind to just be pulling my leg or playing with me and we both know that." He said, seeming to come more awake and Norrington sipped at his own glass.
"Now, I'd really like to hear just why you would ever think that the likes of me is this lord - whatever the name is?" Jack said earnestly and Norrington smiled mildly.
"Well, here's what happened Jack. When you were bringing back the survivors and all - well my image of you had been pretty much assumed from your reputation. You'd never really made Port Royal a focus of your activity. When you were gone after that, I dug out our file on you from the closet. We have shelves full of boxes of files and it took me forever to find yours. They weren't in any kind of order at all. I'd never read your file before, but the stories that were in it all fit what I'd heard." He said and the man smiled mildly.
"Glad to hear you think so," he said as if amused. Outside the door, Ana stood in the shadows, debating whether or not she should leave. She didn't really actually mean to eavesdrop, but she could also tell with just one look that Jack was not what she would call up-to-par. If he were staying and ordered them to sail, they would do it, but both her and Mr. Gibbs would take steps to see he didn't stay at the helm as much as he would prefer or think he should, for a little while yet by the looks of him.
After all, it was her job to be able to tell when the Captain needed a break or assistance of some sort, as well as when it was the winds of trouble that were heading their way. And now here he shows up not only in the dead of night, but with Norrington of all people? For Jack's sake, somebody else needed to know exactly what was going on between the two men! She melted a little further back into the shadow and heard Norrington clear his throat mildly.
"Well, then when we thought you had been killed and Reynolds came, and by then I'd had my adjacent see to it that the files were put in alphabetical order. I went to put yours away and right there in the box was one with the name Jackson Meriwether Stuart on it. Reynolds had never mentioned that Jackson might have a file with us for any reason. Stuarts' file has nothing at all added after the start of 1680. Your file had nothing in it before 1680. But it did say there was some sort of royal intervention in Stuart's behalf in 1679, but no details were known." He told the pirate who looked up to give him a mild frown.
"That's it?" he asked and Norrington sighed.
"I - well - I've burned the files Jack - both of them. I thought you were dead and gone and so was he - otherwise I could show you the page that - well - made me very much aware that you are this missing lord." He said and Jack arched an eyebrow at him and blinked hard.
"You burned the files?" he asked a bit incredulously, head tilted to one side and Norrington gave him an embarrassed look and shrugged.
"I probably shouldn't have, but well, well there's no excuse. I suppose I'll have to make you a new one now." He said and the Jack laughed softly as he parked a booted foot up on the edge of the table and sipped at his cup. Outside, AnaMaria found herself struck practically speechless.
Ol' Norrington had gone and destroyed Jack's file? Was the Commodore completely daft? He was thinking Jack was some Lord now? She heard Jack laugh softly and could imagine the amusement in his expression. Oh he must think this was the funniest thing he'd ever been 'charged with' yet! Bein' a lord now?
"So what was so alarming with these files that a proper military man like yourself would be driven to burn the things? I'll wager you haven't burned a military file in your whole life aside from then?" Jack said and now Norrington considered him very seriously for a very long moment.
"Well, I was pretty much amazed at the story of Stuart's past as a merchant shipper, and then for 7 years as a privateer. then a few years as a pirate. But - well - there was a paragraph titled distinguishing characteristics. It said that Jackson Stuart wears his dark hair long with locks and knots and braids and has coins and beads and such woven in it - is known for his fondness of rum, but give care because he can carry out intricate and detailed escape plans even when intoxicated - it mentioned that he has 2 gold teeth, a molar and incisor on the same side, a dragon tattoo on his shoulder, the pirate brand on his right forearm - and can be identified in part due to his frequent use of hand gestures when speaking. Ummm - I suppose that shouldn't remind me at all of a certain pirate I know?" he asked and Jack stared at him, turning his coffee mug around absently, expression totally neutral. Norrington had to stop himself from squirming under the man's intense stare.
Jacks' stare was nothing compared to the wide eyes of the woman pirate that stood frozen in shock outside that door though.
"We can not even bother discussing the braided hair and coins and beads - the hand gestures, well you probably aren't as aware of them as I am, but it's a very distinguishing trait. Yes, you seem to have gotten a couple more gold teeth since then, and it doesn't mention the sparrow tattoo you have - but you do have a dragon tattoo on your shoulder."
"And you think I'm the only person out on the whole sea with those matching qualities?" the pirate captain asked quietly as he dug in his pocket and the gold coin appeared to weave in and out of his fingers absently and Norrington smiled at him mildly.
"Well - there IS the ring Lord Stuart wears that supposedly has the initial JMS and the seal of the house of Stuart inside it. I'll wager if you take off that ring, that's what is inside it?" he said with a gesture at the pirate's right hand.
Jack followed his look, then leaned forward and seemed to think for a moment. Finally he took off the ring and slid it over to the military man, who looked inside it, and swallowed dryly and quickly gave it back. He raised his eyes to find the pirate now giving him a very hooded look.
"Then, Lord Jackson Meriwether Stuart, I presume?" Norrington said, a bit awed sounding and the pirate inclined his head with a singular nod and small smile as he wove the coin deftly.
"Yes, Commodore Norrington, that would indeed be me." He said softly.
Outside that door, AnaMaria stifled her own gasp. She knew he didn't come from around here. had seen the ring on his hand as long as she'd known him. How could he not have told her? Even just hinted at it? Her eyes misted over at the sting of realizing that he hadn't even trusted her that much. Surely he knew she'd never tell anyone else - didn't he?
"Were you the privateer all those years?" she heard Norrington asked quietly and the man shook his head.
"I told you the truth when we were playing cards. I've only ever held a marque for one purpose, one mission and never before or after. Jeffrey had been for a good number of years though before he turned rogue raider. The file you had was apparently the 1680 edition. That royal intervention you found - that was Charles and I making an accord whereby I would leave my father's poor ships alone. Changing my name was part of that. I didn't want anything to remind me of my father. I had just lost the Pearl to Barbossa, but Charles didn't know anything about that at the time." He said with a shrug.
"There are about 5 different versions of the files. I have copies of them all. I think I have the only actually accurate one to tell you the truth though, the 6the edition if you will." He added with a gesture at the wall case of books and papers over to the side of the room and Norrington followed his gesture and looked a little surprised.
"Why are there different versions?" he asked and the pirate half smiled.
"In 1685, soon after he came to the throne, King James sent some nice men in big boats to find me. They cornered me out in the Leewards - 5 men o' war. You would have thought they were coming after the whole bloody Spanish Armada instead of me on one little two-mast schooner. I still managed to sink one and put another into the shoals before they managed to take the mast." He said and Norrington blinked hard at him.
"Two man o' wars - with a schooner?" he asked and the one seemed amused.
"It's not always how many guns Commodore - most often its' where you aim them. A man o' war's weakest side is her horizontal decks - especially the top one. You drop a few balls through the top and there are few of them that don't instantly turn near to scuppers. Give me a fast ship with a few good guns and I'll take on anything on the water. And probably win." He said with just a tinge of malice to his voice and the military man considered him and nodded.
AnaMaria frowned deeply. Normally Jack let the boys handle the cannons. Although he did take great delight in having them play at 'target practice' now and then when they had some slow days. She'd seen those way up in the air arcing balls he'd taught them how to fire. He did it as a game though. see who could get it to go up the highest and still hit the target he'd picked out - bottle of his best rum to the winner of the day.
He'd never once said they'd use that against a man o' war. On the other hand, it made her feel kind of warm and fuzzy to know that he'd thought of it - and even managed to teach it without alarming anyone. Couldn't even tell her his real name, but he's gonna make sure they can sink a man o' war if it becomes necessary? She heard the coffee cups clink against the table.
"What did they want?" Norrington asked and the pirate sighed with a grimace of dismay.
"King James wanted me to be a privateer for him." He said and made a face of dismay again.
"I gather you got - how did you put it - a bit upset?" Norrington asked and the man smiled at him.
"Well at least the man had the decency to say he'd been standing too close when I opened a door and that's how he got the black eye, instead of having me thrown in the Tower." He said ruefully and Norrington's eyes widened a bit.
"You hit him?" he asked and the one sighed and shrugged with a gesture of innocence.
"I get a bit upset when 5 man o' war show up to surround me Commodore. Any man who is daft enough to tell me that was his doing and oh by the way he wants me to be a bloody privateer for him - back then? Well yeah I hit the bastard. Not sure if I really meant to, but I did." He admitted a bit ruefully.
"You say you're not a privateer - but since the war with the French started, you've taken a good 10 of their ships every year - and only a few others. Are you on better terms with King William now? Can I trust that you haven't assaulted the man at least? Is it that you won't take a marque because of that one time with your brother?" he asked and Jack laughed softly as he settled back in his chair and sipped at his cup.
"I'd rather die than be a privateer for any man." He said lowly and Norrington frowned at him mildly. Outside the door, AnaMaria frowned even more. She knew Jacks' opinion of privateers, he'd never made any secret of that.
"So, William hasn't asked that of you?" the Commodore asked and the pirate looked a bit melancholy for a brief moment.
"No - actually it's a bit the other way around now. It's the Grand Alliance that keeps trying to pressure me into it and its King William who says no you can't make him if he says no." he said and Norrington considered him, tilting his head to one side.
"I don't see the difference between you suddenly taking 10 French ships a year for yourself, and your taking 10 a year for the Alliance." He asked and the one nodded and sighed.
"Has to do with me being a member of the Brethren of the Coast. The Alliance doesn't want any of us hiring out as mercenaries, but none of the Brethren really want to take a marque either. The members of the Grand Alliance don't like the accord we have between ourselves." He said and Norrington shook his head.
"I don't really understand what you mean?" he asked and the pirate shook his head.
"Members of the Brethren generally consider themselves to be men without a country for the most part. But they also have families and backgrounds like everyone else. When something like this war happens, yes, you find a few - myself included, who will tend to suddenly take a lot more ships from the country that is at war with their homeland. They don't want to split the take with the crown so they wont take a marque, but they take the ships anyway." He said and the military man frowned.
"And that is a problem?" he asked and the pirate shrugged.
"Is for them you could say. We look at it from the angle of, if a French ship is coming into the Caribbean - its fair game anyway. If I happen to find it because I'm frequenting that area, to the Brethren I just happened to be the pirate who got it. Now, there are French pirates who also belong to the Brethren - they target English ships coming into the Caribbean. I have to look at that as the ship as fair game, and they just happened to be waiting around in the right area and were the ones to take it." He said and Norrington nodded.
"And this sits well with all of you who are members?" he asked and the pirate smiled.
"Supposedly. The members of the Grand Alliance would love to have one of us accept their particular marque and tell them who these pirates are that sit and wait for their country's ships - so they could send bounty hunters like Reynolds after them. Its' not supposed to matter if they are all part of their one alliance, but there are a lot of 'backroom' issues is what I suspect. I cant' give them those names. I won't. I refuse to." He said rather stubbornly.
"Jack - how do you know a member of the Brethren didn't sell you out to the French? If Reynolds is a bounty hunter, they had to get information from someplace that you're the one who's been taking their ships." He asked and the pirate nodded with a rather glum look.
"Yeah, that's want Mr. Gibbs has been trying to tell me these last several months now - nigh on close to a year since they started showing up." He said as he rose and paced the room slowly, and Norrington frowned with a concerned look.
"You've had bounty hunters showing up especially in just the last few months? This year? More than before?" he asked and the pirate nodded. AnaMaria gulped, then scowled, training a strong grip on her rapidly rising anger. Bounty hunters?? Since when had they ever encountered bounty hunters!
And why the hell would Jack be willing to tell Gibbs they were after him for a bounty and never mention it to her! Pirate hunters they had had their fair share of - but a bounty on Jack alone? She didn't know if she wanted to strangle him for not telling her or do something to make sure nobody ever got near him! Damn the bloody blasted pirate! She growled to herself
"Definitely a few more than usual anyway." Jack told him as he neared the door, nudging it closed with an absent touch.. Making it impossible for the woman pirate outside to hear anymore.
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