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Chapter 20: Losing, Finding, and Trying
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Will's head jerked up and he froze, holding up his hand to the two other men with him as a scream pierced the night. He recognized it immediately: Elizabeth's scream.
"Elizabeth!" Will yelled frantically, taking the stairs two at a time to reach the bottom as fast as humanly possible. Gibbs and James exchanged worried glances before rushing after him.
As he barreled down the stairs, Will rounded the second landing with ease. However, he misjudged the depth of the step and stumbled, slipping and rolling painfully down several steps. He collided hard with a heavy figure and thinking that it was Elizabeth's attacker, Will bared his teeth and hung on to the man. The two landed in a heap at the base of the stairs, moaning in pain. Will shot to his feet, wincing at the soon-to-be bruises that were already painful. He spotted Elizabeth's dress-clothed figure standing just in the shadows, quaking. Will also saw someone beyond her whimpering in pain, and he rushed to the pair, grabbing Elizabeth by the shoulders.
Elizabeth dropped her arm immediately, staring open mouthed at the man that she had stabbed. The person that Will had crashed into (he now recognized it as Mullroy, one of James' men) gingerly climbed to his feet, and Will pushed Elizabeth into his arms.
Norrington and Gibbs came thundering down the stairs, halting as they could barely make out the group of people in the darkness. James fished into his pocket and dress out a piece of flint, which he began quickly trying to light one of the torches on the wall with. Impatiently he noticed that it wouldn't light, and the pirate beside him suddenly emptied the contents of his hipflask onto the torch. James rolled his eyes, but attempted to light it once more. The torch began to burn fiercely with a whoosh, and the commodore had to jerk his arm away so it would not catch on fire.
In the sudden light, Will saw himself looking into the stunned and pale face of Lord Charles Adler. Elizabeth's dagger was still protruding from his shoulder, and the aristocrat was staring at it open-mouthed in disbelief, his trembling hands hovering around it.
"James," Will called softly.
At the sound of his voice, the man's stormy eyes raised to meet Will's dark ones, and he opened his mouth to begin rattling off nothingness. "She stabbed me! In God's truth, she killed me! I'm a very powerful man, and I assure you, sir that she will get her full comeuppances for this awful deed. I need a doctor! You must get this out; I shall bleed to death, truth be known! I knew a fellow who was cut in this place and he was dead within and hour with no medic. Lass, you best be prepared for the gallows because- "
He stopped abruptly, his eyes rolling back into his head and he slid backwards down the wall.
Everyone stared at him in heavy silence, broken suddenly by Elizabeth's soft wail. "D-did I kill him?" she asked softly between small sobs from where she had slipped from Mullroy's arms and was kneeling on the ground. Will fell to his knees beside her and wrapped her carefully in his arms.
"Nah," Gibbs drawled, moving over to inspect the fallen man. "'E's still breathin', but I says if ye take out that blade, he could be bleedin' to death. Shoulder wounds bleed somethin' awful." Gibbs took a length of rope from his belt and bound it around his hands, then leaned down to sharply slap his cheek.
Charles awakened with a startled yelp, and found himself staring at the filthiest man he had ever seen, his large sideburns and beard overwhelming his face. Charles inched backwards along the wall, sniveling pitifully. "Please don't hurt me," he pleaded. Gibbs rolled his eyes and hauled the man to his feet. Charles realized his arms were bound and that the knife was still imbedded in his shoulder and looked apprehensively at the men surrounding him. "You're not going to remove it?" he asked pompously.
Now it was Will's turn to roll his eyes, "We'd best return to the others. They're likely returning to the Dauntless and Pearl as we speak."
James nodded curtly his agreement. The group set off towards the harbor, Charles continuing to protest incessantly in his irritating voice until Gibbs decided that he had had enough and backhanded the man into silence.
They paused at the alley where Eve and the others had been staying to keep a watch on Evans. James knelt in the dim light beside a bloodstained spot on the cobblestones, noting grimly that it was fresh.
"James," Will called uneasily. The commodore straightened up and followed the blacksmith's worried gaze to where he saw a pair of irons and a blood- stained length of rope lying on the ground, looking suspiciously like the ones that he had positioned on Evans not too long before.
James crossed to them, the glint of metal several inches away from them catching his eye. It was a dagger, its blade twisted and bloodstained.
"Let's let not assume the worst-" James started to say anxiously.
"Mary, mother o'God," Gibbs breathed, interrupting him, "The bastard's escaped,"
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"Set 'er down in me cabin," Jack ordered Murtogg, his anxiety peaking once again as the group carefully boarded the Pearl. He saw that Ana's breathing had begun to grow shallower; it was audible that her breathing was raspier and her face had gone grey. He motioned for the soldier to lay her down on his bed, and Jack turned to the man, his eyes wide, "Please fetch yer doctor."
The soldier saluted obnoxiously, and scurried off. Jack stood beside her body on the bed and slid a pillow beneath Ana's head, cursing himself for feeling useless. He flipped open his knife and slit open her shift, eternally grateful for the invention of the camisole, one of which she was currently wearing.
Jack fell to his knees beside her, brushing a tangle of her dark hair tenderly away from her face. "Don't let go, Ana," he murmured, eyes roving over her ashen face, "Don't quit fightin'. I can't do it by me onesies anymore."
A grey-haired doctor came scurrying in, his spectacles firmly in place on his nose and a bag clutched under his arm. He froze when he saw the blood- stained pirate captain bending over the motionless woman, seeing the hard look the man was giving him. Almost immediately, however, he shook his head and said brusquely, "Sir, you'll have to leave."
Jack planted his feet on the wooden floor and crossed his arms. "It's a knife wound," Jack told him as if the medic hadn't spoken, "Along the ribs and it seems to be bleedin' pretty harsh. She passed out about ten minutes ago and 'asn't woken up. Don't know if she's had anything to eat in the past few days and it looks like she's been banged 'round quite a bit."
The doctor's eyes widened and he hurried to the patient's side, inspecting the place where Jack had bound the cut. He cut away the bandages, all but forgetting Jack's presence, and examined the cut carefully. "Needs stitches," he murmured to himself. He reached for his medical bag, and caught sight of Jack's grimy hands offering it to him. "Out!" the doctor screeched, shooing Jack to the door.
"But-I'm Captain Jack Sparrow-" Jack tried valiantly, digging his heels into the floor as the old man all but pushed him out the door, slamming it in his face. In his weakened condition, he doubted it was very hard. Jack shook his head angrily and sank down beside the door, his head sinking into his hands. Ironic, "I can stop bloody bounty hunter's an' bloodthirsty pirates but I can't stop a blasted doctor?" he asked himself.
Time passed. He did not know how much time.
He was interrupted by the sounds of stomping boots aboard the ship and felt someone's presence looking above him. He looked up into the faces of James, Gibbs, and Will all surrounding him. "Bloody 'ell!" Jack jumped in surprise and then rolled his eyes. "Glad to see yer all in one piece," he told them gratefully.
"Where's Miss Ana?" Gibbs asked unnecessarily. Will stuck his hand down to help Jack climb to his feet, and the captain accepted it with relief.
Jack gestured towards the door, "The blasted doctor is workin' on 'er." He noticed that James seemed preoccupied, searching the deck with his eyes. "What is it, Commodore?" Jack finally asked him.
The trio exchanged a look. "Ah," James finally said reluctantly, "Did you happen to take Evans with you back to the ship?"
Kohl-lined eyes narrowed suspiciously. "No," Jack drawled out slowly, "Ye don't-'ave him?"
Gibbs winced uncomfortably and shook his head. "'E picked them locks with a dagger an' left the ropes an' irons in the alleyway."
Jack closed his eyes, his hand going to his forehead to rub at the tension there. "Bloody 'ell," he sighed, "Can it get worse, mates?"
Suddenly the cabin door swung open behind them and all four men started, hands going to their sword hilts. The doctor poked his head out, looking uncomfortable, "I had to stitch the wound, but the bleeding has stopped. That's all I can do for her."
Jack blinked at him and teetered slowly over to where the medic stood. "All ye can do? Well, t'ain't good enough, mate. If she dies, I'll be comin' after ye, savvy? Want to rethink yer answer?"
"Captain Sparrow, that is enough," James called out rather sharply.
Jack dropped his hands and whirled to face Norrington. "On this ship, mate," he drawled carefully, glaring at him, "Ye'll not order me about, 'specially where me crew is concerned, savvy?" Jack switched his attention to Gibbs, quite ignoring the commodore. "Gibbs, get some o'the crew an' search the area an' the ship for any possible hunter stowaways. And if ye not find any sign of 'im, we be settin' off, quite without the good commodore's assistance, aye?"
Gibbs' eyes shifted back and forth for a moment between the commodore and the pirate, locked in a staring contest, but he muttered his agreement and went to find the crew, muttering to himself all the while about bad luck to be having officers on board.
"Jack," Norrington began carefully.
Jack cut him, speaking solely to Will, "If somethin' happens, I'll be in 'ere with 'er."
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"Anamaria."
Ana's eyes fluttered open, feeling the comfortable warmth of the sun on her face. She knew that voice. It was a deep, familiar man's voice. Jack? No, this voice was one that tugged on her memory one that she hadn't heard in years-
Ana blinked twice, her eyes resting on a dark-skinned figure standing a few feet away from her. She realized she was standing in a patch of dense jungle, light streaming down through the canopy while thick green vines hung lazily around her and brilliantly colored butterflies rested on large white flowers. She knew she had never been to this place before, but it was familiar to her, calling on a portion of her subconscious. Her heart called out to the man who had spoken, daring herself to hope. "Papa?" she whispered.
Her father turned around, a smile lighting up his dark-skinned face. His hair was gray but cut short against his head and his face was lined with age and elements, but his eyes shone with vitality. "Binti,*" he said emotionally, crossing to her and standing in directly in front of her within touching distance.
"Papa, am I dead?" she whispered, wanting more than anything to reach out and touch him. The fierce and hardened that she had become faded away, and she was caught up in the positive memories of her childhood.
"No, Ana," he said softly, "The heavens know your mission on earth is not finished. This is more like an in-between place. A middle ground."
"Could I-touch ye?" Ana whispered, her trembling hand rising unconsciously from her side.
Sadly, the man shook his head, his accent becoming more pronounced than she had ever noticed it when he was living. "I am but a guide here, to guide you back to the living world. I am not made of substance, but a mixture of memory and spirit."
Ana bit back tears, suddenly realizing the questions that she had been dying to ask him since the conversation in Charles' apartment. "Papa, why didn't ye tell me about ye bein' the chief's son? Is what Adler said even true?"
Her father appeared uncomfortable, visibly diminishing in stature, and he sighed tiredly. "It was not important," he admitted, "I never imagined that my past would come back like this to haunt you. It is true, what he says. But you must promise me something"
"What must I do?" she asked slowly. She swallowed, feeling the weight of her father's words pressing down upon her. Her heart cried out for Jack, crying to take her away, back to the past before their lives had grown cluttered and complicated.
"You must help my people," he told her.
Ana squeezed her eyes closed, trying fiercely not to scream with the sheer unfairness of it all. Why her? She was finally happy, and now this had come back, threatening her life, Jack's life, and their new fragile relationship. "I promise," she barely whispered finally.
"Ana, look at me."
Anamaria slowly raised her eyes to meet her father's solemn brown ones, the same shade as her own. "You have been given a second chance. You have an opportunity to make yourself and someone else very happy. Life without love is not life at all."
"Jack," Ana murmured.
"Yes," her father answered. "He is waiting for you, Ana. Let go of the past. He is a good man."
Ana gazed at her father, feeling small and vulnerable to the powers. She swallowed hard, knowing that once she left this place she would not be able to see the man that she loved so dearly and had missed for so many years. In a way, she suddenly realized, she had found a piece of her father mirrored in Jack Sparrow. Honorable, stubborn, caring, good men, they both were. "Nakupenda" she told him softly in one of the few phrases he had taught her in his native tongue. I love you.
"Nakupenda, daughter," he told her mournfully, raising his hand to gently touch her cheek as if he could not help it. Ana felt the coolness of a breeze graze her cheek and her eyes welled up with tears that she could not feel his touch.
"Now, go," he told her, "Go and be happy."
Ana closed her eyes and felt her body fill with warmth as the sunbeams filled her and carry her soul back into consciousness.
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* Swahilli word meaning daughter
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AN: Well, I was going to have the next chapter be the last one----but Evans just won't go quietly! *sighs* Goshdarn oc's, always wanting the spotlight. So of course he has to be taken care of before this thing can end------
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J.L. Dexter: *looks embarrassed* no no, I wasn't trying to imply that you haven't been fully stupendous in your reviews, only that you were the only wonderful person to be honest (which I completely appreciate) and I knew that chapter might be a little confusing. Merci bien.
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Ps- I love my reviewers, keep it up oh please, you guys are amazing.
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Chapter 20: Losing, Finding, and Trying
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Will's head jerked up and he froze, holding up his hand to the two other men with him as a scream pierced the night. He recognized it immediately: Elizabeth's scream.
"Elizabeth!" Will yelled frantically, taking the stairs two at a time to reach the bottom as fast as humanly possible. Gibbs and James exchanged worried glances before rushing after him.
As he barreled down the stairs, Will rounded the second landing with ease. However, he misjudged the depth of the step and stumbled, slipping and rolling painfully down several steps. He collided hard with a heavy figure and thinking that it was Elizabeth's attacker, Will bared his teeth and hung on to the man. The two landed in a heap at the base of the stairs, moaning in pain. Will shot to his feet, wincing at the soon-to-be bruises that were already painful. He spotted Elizabeth's dress-clothed figure standing just in the shadows, quaking. Will also saw someone beyond her whimpering in pain, and he rushed to the pair, grabbing Elizabeth by the shoulders.
Elizabeth dropped her arm immediately, staring open mouthed at the man that she had stabbed. The person that Will had crashed into (he now recognized it as Mullroy, one of James' men) gingerly climbed to his feet, and Will pushed Elizabeth into his arms.
Norrington and Gibbs came thundering down the stairs, halting as they could barely make out the group of people in the darkness. James fished into his pocket and dress out a piece of flint, which he began quickly trying to light one of the torches on the wall with. Impatiently he noticed that it wouldn't light, and the pirate beside him suddenly emptied the contents of his hipflask onto the torch. James rolled his eyes, but attempted to light it once more. The torch began to burn fiercely with a whoosh, and the commodore had to jerk his arm away so it would not catch on fire.
In the sudden light, Will saw himself looking into the stunned and pale face of Lord Charles Adler. Elizabeth's dagger was still protruding from his shoulder, and the aristocrat was staring at it open-mouthed in disbelief, his trembling hands hovering around it.
"James," Will called softly.
At the sound of his voice, the man's stormy eyes raised to meet Will's dark ones, and he opened his mouth to begin rattling off nothingness. "She stabbed me! In God's truth, she killed me! I'm a very powerful man, and I assure you, sir that she will get her full comeuppances for this awful deed. I need a doctor! You must get this out; I shall bleed to death, truth be known! I knew a fellow who was cut in this place and he was dead within and hour with no medic. Lass, you best be prepared for the gallows because- "
He stopped abruptly, his eyes rolling back into his head and he slid backwards down the wall.
Everyone stared at him in heavy silence, broken suddenly by Elizabeth's soft wail. "D-did I kill him?" she asked softly between small sobs from where she had slipped from Mullroy's arms and was kneeling on the ground. Will fell to his knees beside her and wrapped her carefully in his arms.
"Nah," Gibbs drawled, moving over to inspect the fallen man. "'E's still breathin', but I says if ye take out that blade, he could be bleedin' to death. Shoulder wounds bleed somethin' awful." Gibbs took a length of rope from his belt and bound it around his hands, then leaned down to sharply slap his cheek.
Charles awakened with a startled yelp, and found himself staring at the filthiest man he had ever seen, his large sideburns and beard overwhelming his face. Charles inched backwards along the wall, sniveling pitifully. "Please don't hurt me," he pleaded. Gibbs rolled his eyes and hauled the man to his feet. Charles realized his arms were bound and that the knife was still imbedded in his shoulder and looked apprehensively at the men surrounding him. "You're not going to remove it?" he asked pompously.
Now it was Will's turn to roll his eyes, "We'd best return to the others. They're likely returning to the Dauntless and Pearl as we speak."
James nodded curtly his agreement. The group set off towards the harbor, Charles continuing to protest incessantly in his irritating voice until Gibbs decided that he had had enough and backhanded the man into silence.
They paused at the alley where Eve and the others had been staying to keep a watch on Evans. James knelt in the dim light beside a bloodstained spot on the cobblestones, noting grimly that it was fresh.
"James," Will called uneasily. The commodore straightened up and followed the blacksmith's worried gaze to where he saw a pair of irons and a blood- stained length of rope lying on the ground, looking suspiciously like the ones that he had positioned on Evans not too long before.
James crossed to them, the glint of metal several inches away from them catching his eye. It was a dagger, its blade twisted and bloodstained.
"Let's let not assume the worst-" James started to say anxiously.
"Mary, mother o'God," Gibbs breathed, interrupting him, "The bastard's escaped,"
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"Set 'er down in me cabin," Jack ordered Murtogg, his anxiety peaking once again as the group carefully boarded the Pearl. He saw that Ana's breathing had begun to grow shallower; it was audible that her breathing was raspier and her face had gone grey. He motioned for the soldier to lay her down on his bed, and Jack turned to the man, his eyes wide, "Please fetch yer doctor."
The soldier saluted obnoxiously, and scurried off. Jack stood beside her body on the bed and slid a pillow beneath Ana's head, cursing himself for feeling useless. He flipped open his knife and slit open her shift, eternally grateful for the invention of the camisole, one of which she was currently wearing.
Jack fell to his knees beside her, brushing a tangle of her dark hair tenderly away from her face. "Don't let go, Ana," he murmured, eyes roving over her ashen face, "Don't quit fightin'. I can't do it by me onesies anymore."
A grey-haired doctor came scurrying in, his spectacles firmly in place on his nose and a bag clutched under his arm. He froze when he saw the blood- stained pirate captain bending over the motionless woman, seeing the hard look the man was giving him. Almost immediately, however, he shook his head and said brusquely, "Sir, you'll have to leave."
Jack planted his feet on the wooden floor and crossed his arms. "It's a knife wound," Jack told him as if the medic hadn't spoken, "Along the ribs and it seems to be bleedin' pretty harsh. She passed out about ten minutes ago and 'asn't woken up. Don't know if she's had anything to eat in the past few days and it looks like she's been banged 'round quite a bit."
The doctor's eyes widened and he hurried to the patient's side, inspecting the place where Jack had bound the cut. He cut away the bandages, all but forgetting Jack's presence, and examined the cut carefully. "Needs stitches," he murmured to himself. He reached for his medical bag, and caught sight of Jack's grimy hands offering it to him. "Out!" the doctor screeched, shooing Jack to the door.
"But-I'm Captain Jack Sparrow-" Jack tried valiantly, digging his heels into the floor as the old man all but pushed him out the door, slamming it in his face. In his weakened condition, he doubted it was very hard. Jack shook his head angrily and sank down beside the door, his head sinking into his hands. Ironic, "I can stop bloody bounty hunter's an' bloodthirsty pirates but I can't stop a blasted doctor?" he asked himself.
Time passed. He did not know how much time.
He was interrupted by the sounds of stomping boots aboard the ship and felt someone's presence looking above him. He looked up into the faces of James, Gibbs, and Will all surrounding him. "Bloody 'ell!" Jack jumped in surprise and then rolled his eyes. "Glad to see yer all in one piece," he told them gratefully.
"Where's Miss Ana?" Gibbs asked unnecessarily. Will stuck his hand down to help Jack climb to his feet, and the captain accepted it with relief.
Jack gestured towards the door, "The blasted doctor is workin' on 'er." He noticed that James seemed preoccupied, searching the deck with his eyes. "What is it, Commodore?" Jack finally asked him.
The trio exchanged a look. "Ah," James finally said reluctantly, "Did you happen to take Evans with you back to the ship?"
Kohl-lined eyes narrowed suspiciously. "No," Jack drawled out slowly, "Ye don't-'ave him?"
Gibbs winced uncomfortably and shook his head. "'E picked them locks with a dagger an' left the ropes an' irons in the alleyway."
Jack closed his eyes, his hand going to his forehead to rub at the tension there. "Bloody 'ell," he sighed, "Can it get worse, mates?"
Suddenly the cabin door swung open behind them and all four men started, hands going to their sword hilts. The doctor poked his head out, looking uncomfortable, "I had to stitch the wound, but the bleeding has stopped. That's all I can do for her."
Jack blinked at him and teetered slowly over to where the medic stood. "All ye can do? Well, t'ain't good enough, mate. If she dies, I'll be comin' after ye, savvy? Want to rethink yer answer?"
"Captain Sparrow, that is enough," James called out rather sharply.
Jack dropped his hands and whirled to face Norrington. "On this ship, mate," he drawled carefully, glaring at him, "Ye'll not order me about, 'specially where me crew is concerned, savvy?" Jack switched his attention to Gibbs, quite ignoring the commodore. "Gibbs, get some o'the crew an' search the area an' the ship for any possible hunter stowaways. And if ye not find any sign of 'im, we be settin' off, quite without the good commodore's assistance, aye?"
Gibbs' eyes shifted back and forth for a moment between the commodore and the pirate, locked in a staring contest, but he muttered his agreement and went to find the crew, muttering to himself all the while about bad luck to be having officers on board.
"Jack," Norrington began carefully.
Jack cut him, speaking solely to Will, "If somethin' happens, I'll be in 'ere with 'er."
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"Anamaria."
Ana's eyes fluttered open, feeling the comfortable warmth of the sun on her face. She knew that voice. It was a deep, familiar man's voice. Jack? No, this voice was one that tugged on her memory one that she hadn't heard in years-
Ana blinked twice, her eyes resting on a dark-skinned figure standing a few feet away from her. She realized she was standing in a patch of dense jungle, light streaming down through the canopy while thick green vines hung lazily around her and brilliantly colored butterflies rested on large white flowers. She knew she had never been to this place before, but it was familiar to her, calling on a portion of her subconscious. Her heart called out to the man who had spoken, daring herself to hope. "Papa?" she whispered.
Her father turned around, a smile lighting up his dark-skinned face. His hair was gray but cut short against his head and his face was lined with age and elements, but his eyes shone with vitality. "Binti,*" he said emotionally, crossing to her and standing in directly in front of her within touching distance.
"Papa, am I dead?" she whispered, wanting more than anything to reach out and touch him. The fierce and hardened that she had become faded away, and she was caught up in the positive memories of her childhood.
"No, Ana," he said softly, "The heavens know your mission on earth is not finished. This is more like an in-between place. A middle ground."
"Could I-touch ye?" Ana whispered, her trembling hand rising unconsciously from her side.
Sadly, the man shook his head, his accent becoming more pronounced than she had ever noticed it when he was living. "I am but a guide here, to guide you back to the living world. I am not made of substance, but a mixture of memory and spirit."
Ana bit back tears, suddenly realizing the questions that she had been dying to ask him since the conversation in Charles' apartment. "Papa, why didn't ye tell me about ye bein' the chief's son? Is what Adler said even true?"
Her father appeared uncomfortable, visibly diminishing in stature, and he sighed tiredly. "It was not important," he admitted, "I never imagined that my past would come back like this to haunt you. It is true, what he says. But you must promise me something"
"What must I do?" she asked slowly. She swallowed, feeling the weight of her father's words pressing down upon her. Her heart cried out for Jack, crying to take her away, back to the past before their lives had grown cluttered and complicated.
"You must help my people," he told her.
Ana squeezed her eyes closed, trying fiercely not to scream with the sheer unfairness of it all. Why her? She was finally happy, and now this had come back, threatening her life, Jack's life, and their new fragile relationship. "I promise," she barely whispered finally.
"Ana, look at me."
Anamaria slowly raised her eyes to meet her father's solemn brown ones, the same shade as her own. "You have been given a second chance. You have an opportunity to make yourself and someone else very happy. Life without love is not life at all."
"Jack," Ana murmured.
"Yes," her father answered. "He is waiting for you, Ana. Let go of the past. He is a good man."
Ana gazed at her father, feeling small and vulnerable to the powers. She swallowed hard, knowing that once she left this place she would not be able to see the man that she loved so dearly and had missed for so many years. In a way, she suddenly realized, she had found a piece of her father mirrored in Jack Sparrow. Honorable, stubborn, caring, good men, they both were. "Nakupenda" she told him softly in one of the few phrases he had taught her in his native tongue. I love you.
"Nakupenda, daughter," he told her mournfully, raising his hand to gently touch her cheek as if he could not help it. Ana felt the coolness of a breeze graze her cheek and her eyes welled up with tears that she could not feel his touch.
"Now, go," he told her, "Go and be happy."
Ana closed her eyes and felt her body fill with warmth as the sunbeams filled her and carry her soul back into consciousness.
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* Swahilli word meaning daughter
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AN: Well, I was going to have the next chapter be the last one----but Evans just won't go quietly! *sighs* Goshdarn oc's, always wanting the spotlight. So of course he has to be taken care of before this thing can end------
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J.L. Dexter: *looks embarrassed* no no, I wasn't trying to imply that you haven't been fully stupendous in your reviews, only that you were the only wonderful person to be honest (which I completely appreciate) and I knew that chapter might be a little confusing. Merci bien.
-
Ps- I love my reviewers, keep it up oh please, you guys are amazing.
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