Chapter Five:

Mother's Love

They had been sailing three days before Jordan came to Sofia again; three days marked only by the occasional comings and goings of a crewman who left food and water and took away refuse. Three days in which she was left to stew in her own thoughts, to whip herself into an expectant fit of terror.

Of course, Sofia knew all of this. Jordan was a rather predictable man when it came to barbaric ways, and she was well acquainted with this method. So she sat in the corner of her cell for three days, braiding straw into her hair and seeing how high she had to stretch to reach the porthole. She never did reach it, and the straw never did stay in her too-short-for-braids hair.

Sofia was dozing when Jordan came again, her arms crossed across her chest and her chin resting on her collarbone. Jordan's low chuckle roused her and she watched him groggily.

"Feeling well rested, are we?" said Jordan. Sofia shrugged, deliberately nonchalant. "It's all right, but the accommodations are a bit less that lavish. May I suggest you fire the maid?"

Jordan shook his head. The bars cast striped shadows across his face, lending him the look of an amused tiger. "Flippant to the last. Ne'er change, do ye."

"Nor do you," Sofia replied lazily. "Constant of the universe, that. People never quite change."

Jordan grunted in reply and fished a ring of keys from his pocket, inserting one into the lock. Sofia stiffened despite herself. Jordan noticed and smiled wolfishly, then swung the door open with a bone-chilling squeal.

"Ye've been recuperating quite finely, miss," he said, dark amusement flickering in his eyes like a dying flame. "Time ye repaid the debt o' such things." He stepped in and seized her by the wrist, dragging her to her feet. Sofia did not struggle, or even indicate that she cared. If Jordan wanted fear from her then he would get anything but. She yawned theatrically.

"Ye'll be wantin' to come up wit' some new threats, Jordan," she said lazily, rolling her head back to gaze at him with insouciant eyes. "I believe I've heard 'em all afore."

Jordan growled and dragged her behind him effortlessly, forcing her through the Blackbird's bowels and up to the main deck. Sofia blinked owlishly in the sudden light, having been in darkness for over three days. Most of the crew was lolling about there, either having nothing else to do or wanting to see the action.

"I'm curious," said Sofia, casting an ascertaining eye at the motley collection of miscreants. "Jes' what did you do to Gandillon?"

A low laugh arose from the men. Jordan raised his eyebrows.

"Why, we kilt the bilge rat," he said, as if surprised at the question. He smirked at Sofia. "Ye'll be wishing ye was dead too, afore we're done with ye."

And with that he flung her at the crew. They descended like a pack of ravening dogs. Sofia had nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide. And no one cared how much she screamed, other than to laugh at her.

* * *

Jack leaned against the wheel, his body swaying slightly with the ship's movements and the wind's gentle, almost playful tug. The entirety of the Atlantic Ocean spread before him, glittering with a deep blue no paint could ever match, nor any jewel could ever outshine. The sea faded out at the horizon, blending seamlessly with the sky until it seemed they floated in a vast blue emptiness, out beyond any mortal man's reckoning or the longitude of any map.

"May I ask a question, Cap'n?"

Jack did not stir, almost seeming to not have heard the question. After a moment he said, "Ask away, Gibbs."

"What happen' to followin' the Code?"

Jack cast Gibbs an amused glance. "I thought 'twere more like guidelines than rules, Gibbs," he said, echoing the phrase Gibbs had used when rescuing him from the gallows over a year previously. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Chasin' af'er one mad woman ain't like ye, Jack," said Gibbs, speaking with almost uncharacteristic candor. "Yer a daft bugger, but this is a deal more daft than even you'd come up with."

Jack shrugged half-heartedly. "Nothing better to do, no more promising venture- what would you propose I do, Gibbs, instead of chase the lass across the ocean? Besides, there's bloody good hunting in Africa."

Gibbs shook his head. He would never get anywhere by questioning Jack, especially when it came to personal matters. Jack could be cagier than a jail cell when he had a mind to be. "Ne'er mind, Cap'n." He left Jack to himself and climbed the shrouds, more for something to do than because of necessity.

Jack lashed the wheel and descended below decks and went to the galley. He helped himself to a slightly shriveled apple and set to poking about the ship.

He found Ana Maria in the gunnery, cleaning a musket with quick, sure movements. She didn't look up at the sound of his boots but kept to her task. Jack sat on a stool beside her and surveyed the work absently.

"Ana Maria," he said, "you're quartermaster around here. What do the crew think o' me chasin' the Blackbird?"

"That yer daft," Ana Maria replied without looking up. "Admirably mad. Probably ha' too much rum and sun an' lost yer common sense. But yer chasin' the Blackbird, so they're chasin' the Blackbird." She put down the musket and met Jack's gaze. "What's this about?"

Jack shrugged lackadaisically. "Naught that seems more appealing. What could be better than chasing nefarious pirates for no good reason?"

Ana Maria squinted slightly and pursed her lips. "Liar. You're chasin' Sofia, an' you'd chase 'er even if she were on the Dauntless with Norrington himself standing guard."

Jack leaned back and took another bite of his apple. "I do so despise it," he said lazily, "when you figure out me motives. I'm not keen on hearin' any more of 'em from you."

Ana Maria shrugged. "It's not the first time a daft man's chased a daft woman cross the sea," she said. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You know that."

Jack stood up, scowling. "I've enough of the Will comparisons from myself, thank you," he said irritably. "No need to come up with them yourself."

Ana Maria shook her head and returned to her work, saying nothing more. Jack swaggered off. He knew better than to ask to have someone psychoanalyze him.

Especially when, for once in his life, he was so dreadfully transparent.

* * *

Sofia was flung brusquely back into her cell. She hit the back wall with a heavy thump and collapsed onto the floor. No one cared.

Sofia clenched her teeth and hissed softly. Every square inch of her body ached. Her exposed skin—and there was a lot more of it, after what the crew had done—was slowing turning carnival colors. She would soon look like a plum, she decided, gingerly feeling her face. She was by no means a vain woman, but the idea of looking like a scurvy survivor didn't appeal to her in the least.

Sofia sat up, leaning her back against the damp bulkhead. Her ribs were tender, either badly cracked or broken, and lying down was not a tempting proposition what with one thing and another.

She tugged at her ruined shirt, trying to cover herself better. For several years she had been raised as a boy, had even wandered around shirtless as a child, but that was back when she had no modesty at all. Sofia didn't have much more at this time, but she didn't want to expose herself either. The crew's actions had done it for her, she needn't help.

Sofia was by no means any kind of virgin, but she still felt violated. She shuddered and hugged herself.

"Oh, Momma," she whispered brokenly through swollen lips. "I wish you were here. I'm all alone now…" A quiet sob rose in her throat.

It was all, Sofia decided, Lydia Avery's fault. That bloody woman had put that bloody curse on the bloody ship and ended up destroying Sofia's entire bloody life. If it weren't for the curse, Sofia would have been a wealthy merchant's daughter, probably married off to some equally wealthy merchant by now.

Sofia chuckled mirthlessly. "As if I'd want to," she muttered. A tame, civilized life would be even less appealing than the one she led now.

She let herself slip into waking dreams, wandering through memories. The sound of Starling's laughter, her mother's beautiful voice, the smell of gunpowder as the Blackbird surged toward battle. All of it tumbled over and over in her mind until she couldn't tell one thing from the next.

And then a single image rose from the murk- Jack Sparrow, grinning rakishly at her in the smoky air of a Tortuga tavern, his hair jangling. And then his soft chuckle, when she'd awakened aboard the Black Pearl. He was the only person in a very long time that had shown her any kind of humanity, any real concern.

Sofia dismissed the thought and sank into true sleep. ~He won't come~, she thought sleepily. ~I'm just another woman… man like that, he ne'er thought of chasin' a woman lest she was the sort to give favors for a low price…he'll be off chasin' merchant ships, more like…~

And so Sofia slept, fully unaware of how much she had underestimated the dear Captain.

* * *

Sofia had no idea how long she'd slept, but when she awoke the soft sound of gentle rain on the sea came floating in through the porthole. A portly old salt unlocked her door and hefted her to her feet. She hurt too much to protest, and the world was spinning in giddy circle as she was dragged up to the deck.

The rain felt wonderful of her battered face. It reminded her of something… something…

~"Momma, will he come back?"

Sarah Briggs gently stroked her daughter's hair, her face turned towards the steel-gray water of New York Harbor. It was raining, and light drops speckled her pale face. Out on the water sailed a merchant ship, the American flag flapping feverishly at the zenith of its mainmast.

"Maybe next month, maybe in six months," Sarah said gently. Her gaze dropped to the wooden floor, and a tear disguised itself among the raindrops.

"Maybe never."

Little Sofia hardly understand her mother's fear, she was only four and did not comprehend it. She tugged on Sarah's dress. "Momma, he always comes back, doesn't he?"~

Jordan's face loomed into Sofia's vision, the rain leaving tracks in the grime encrusted on his grizzled face. "Ready for more?"

Sofia's head lolled.

~"Doesn't he?"

"Oh, always. But I'm always afraid he won't."

"Sing the coming-back song, Momma. He always comes back when you do."

Sarah's laugh was as light as the sprinkling of water droplets~ dusting Sofia's battered face. She licked her lips, grateful for the fresh water that soothed her parched throat.

Jordan laughed. "Tie her up, gentlemen."

~Sarah's voice rang out above the sound of rain, lifting Sofia back away to a place she had never seen, an Irish homeland Sarah never spoke of.~

Sofia moaned softly as her bruised wrists were tightly bound, but not to each other. She could hardly comprehend why, nor why the ropes were looped over spar in the rigging. All she knew was the sound of rain and her mother's voice.

~"Oh Danny boy, the pipes the pipes are calling, from glen to glen, and down the mountainside…"~

"So pretty, Momma," she whispered. Her ankles were being tied now, her boots thrown to the side by a grubby crewman.

~"The summer's gone, and all the roses falling…"~

"Up she goes!" Sofia groaned as she was lifted into the air, her wrists screaming but her voice paralyzed.

~"It's you it's you, must go and I must bide…"~

A laugh rose up from the men, a rough and callous sound. It called up dark memories of pain and hurt, and Sofia wrapped herself desperately in her mother's half-forgotten voice.

~"But come ye back when summer's in the meadow, or when the valley's hushed and white with snow…"~

"Help," Sofia whispered. No one heard but the rain.

"And, heave!"

~'Tis I'll be there, in sunshine or in shadow…"~

Sofia's muscles strained as fifteen men pulled on the ropes at her ankles, stretching her between spar and deck like a rag doll. She thought she heard a shoulder pop, but it didn't hurt. She felt nothing but the rain on her face, like tears.

~"Oh Danny boy oh Danny boy, I love you so."

Little Sofia hugged her mother's leg and looked out over the steely harbor. "He'll come back."

Sarah kneeled in front of Sofia and gently touched her cheek. "Always, pet," she said softly. "But I won't"

She vanished.~

"Momma?" Sofia stared wildly into the wind, lost between past and present. Nothing made sense.

"SAIL HO! They're black sails, Cap'n!"

A shout rose from the crew. The pulling stopped and Sofia fell. The air rushed past her, an almost gentle caress.

She never felt the impact.

* * *

Jack gripped the ropes of the shrouds in his left hand, his cutlass in his right. The Blackbird loomed up out of the mist, its deck boiling with activity. He smiled grimly. The Blackbird was only a two-masted brig, the same size as the Interceptor had been, but in decidedly worse condition. If it came to it, he could send the Blackbird and its entire black-hearted, mangy, scurvy crew to the depths, and Jordan knew it. Jack could taste victory, and the battle hadn't even begun.

"Raise the Jolly Roger," he shouted over his shoulder. "Load the guns!"

The crew scrambled to obey, gun ports snapping open in the hull, deck guns being pulled back on the deck. The Pearl surged forward, an eager hound chasing an already wounded rabbit.

The Blackbird fired a single shot, the ball splashing into the sea mere yards from Jack's perch. He grit his teeth.

"~Give 'im 'ell, men!~"

Which they did. Quite thoroughly.