Author's Note: research! Ugh! Research!! As you might be able to tell, I had to do some of the dreaded 'r' word to get this chapter out to you. It all started when I came up with the brilliant idea to attach a "Morgan le Fay" connotation to Winn's last name. I was sadly disillusioned to find that none of my numerous mythology/fable/folklore texts contained anything about the Arthurian cycle. Nothing. So, deciding it was still a brilliant idea, I went online. All I have to say about that is - *grrr!* So, that is why this is out this morning rather than last night.
Enjoy! Read! Review! Try not to second guess where I'm going with this because . . . because I'm probably not going to go there. You know me – I love my plot twists. Even though I haven't been using them as much lately. (Actually having a plot kinda limits your amount of twists. *shrug*)
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Needless to say, neither Jack nor Winn got much sleep that night. It wasn't that they feared Gandolfi might try something, but that they had so many things to think and talk about. As night drew on and their cabin/cage became dark, they took to sitting on the single bunk, Winn taking temporary refuge in Jack's embrace. Most of their discussions had Gandolfi and what he may be planning as their starting point, and usually ended with either talk of the baby or silence. Every once in awhile, one or both would nod off, but never for long. These hours that they had together were too precious and too uncertain to spend them in unconsciousness.
The only things they didn't discuss were the possibility of the two of them both coming out of this unscathed and the fact that Winn was there to be scathed. Both topics were too depressing or volatile to spend much time pondering. Although Jack did make a silent vow that if they both got out of this with their health intact, he was going to give Winn the reaming of her life. He was going to yell, and scream, and go on a seething tirade until he was blue in the face, and then he was going to hold on to her and never let her out of his sight again. Despite his best efforts to stay independent, he had come to need everything about Winn just to make it through his days. Despite his performance as the undaunted and unconcerned sea-captain, he had come to rely upon Winn to listen to and counsel him when he needed someone to talk to. Despite his numerous attempts to compartmentalize Winn into a certain section of his life, her influence had spread to every aspect of his being – not to mention his ship. If he lost her now, he'd have to give up the Pearl because there were too many reminders of her there. Of course, for all he knew, the Pearl had already taken a berth on the ocean floor like so many ships before her. He sighed.
Winn stirred in the dark. "You haven't yet asked me the one thing I thought you would."
Jack sighed. "Love, it would do me no good to ask why you're here, because I already know. You made your point often enough before I set out on my own, I don't think I need to hear the reasons yet again. Although if you insist on another recitation, let me save you the breath and do it myself. 'You –'"
"That's not what I meant, Jack." He could hear the wry humor in her voice, a good thing since he couldn't see her face. "I meant, you haven't asked me how your ship is."
"Sorry, love, I've other things on my mind right now."
"No you don't."
For all we know, we might both die tomorrow, and she's arguing with me about what I'm thinking about. Just for once it would be nice if she could let a subject lie and not go around stirring things up. Jack thought this, but he knew it was pointless. Winn was Winn. She was argumentative and she was stubborn and she refused to admit defeat until it came back to stare her straight in the face. Asking her to be docile and demure now would be the same as asking her to suddenly disappear. It couldn't be done. "And why do you say that?"
"You sighed."
"I sighed." While it might have sounded like a question, it wasn't. Jack was trying to get her to elaborate on her answer so that he could make sense of it.
"Yes, you sighed. Not that you never do, it's just that when . . . when we're at Swallows Rest, for example, and we're busy on some sort of family outing or something, sometimes you sigh and I know that you'd rather be on your ship. And you just made that sigh. Don't deny that the Pearl was in your thoughts. Not when I know better."
"You're turning into such a nag, Winnie."
"Mmm . . . I know. It must be your charming influence. What's bothering you?"
"Do you really need to ask that?"
"Jack . . . ."
Jack was silent for a moment, thinking what a trivial concern his ship was at the moment, yet he couldn't stop hoping that she had managed to survive his last sea-battle, damage and all. Couldn't help wondering how many of his crew had lost their lives because his ridiculous plan had gone awry. Couldn't help thinking that he had failed in two of his vows that day; he had failed to protect his crew, and he had failed to protect his wife. That left his one vow of retaliation against Gandolfi.
"It's not your fault, Jack. You didn't do anything that involved more risk than any other aspect of a pirate's life. Had your crew disliked your orders, they would have either said something or would have found themselves a new captain. I can't believe that you kept your men in the dark about what you were doing or why you were doing it. They followed you because they love the Pearl and they respect you."
"You've been talking to Gibbs while he's drunk again, haven't you?"
"No, surprisingly enough, the man was sober, even though the news he had to deliver was less that welcome and his reception a few degrees colder than warm. And it wasn't so much what he said as the look in his eyes." She paused and then continued, "Jack, your crew feels that you did right by them."
"And you would know this how?" How does she always manage to know exactly what the problem is? How does she always know what to say?
"I know this because your crew is waiting for you on Wright Island, repairing your ship in your absence."
Jack was stunned. "Winn, the amount of damage to the Black Pearl was enormous. Two of her masts were crippled, planking was torn off the side, and the deck had nearly enough holes in it to resemble a loaf that mice have been at. Her sails were rags, her rails resembled the teeth of an ancient seadog, and the last time I saw her, there was a minor fire started above the galley. It will take months, even up to a year before she's seaworthy again – and that's if I had the money to pay for supplies and labor, which I don't. And if you haven't noticed, I have no means of securing funds while my ship is out of commission."
"Are you done?" Winn sounded entirely unconcerned about the points he had raised to his excruciating dismay. She even sounded amused, as if he had made an argument based on faulty points.
"Are you done?" Winn, secretly and guiltily, was amused. There were few things that Jack got worked up over, but his ship was one of them. Perhaps it was because it represented the culmination of so many childhood and long held dreams. "If you are, may I say something?" There was no reply. "I know how much damage the Pearl sustained in your fight – Gibbs gave me a full accounting, and he said much the same as you. He said that the shipwright he talked to told him that the cost for repairs would be at least three hundred pounds."
Patiently Jack asked, "Winnie, what makes you think I have anywhere near that amount stashed away somewhere?"
"Jack, you know that in normal marriages, that unless the woman in question is either very powerful or a widow several times over, and is therefore unwise to be trifled with, everything the woman has becomes her husband's, correct?"
"Yes, love. But unless you missed it, not only did we have a pirate ceremony, but everything you own is already on the Pearl."
"Umm . . . you see, that's where you're wrong. I lived for twenty-six years without a man in my life, and for nearly ten of those, I supported myself despite the fact I lived with my grandparents. I had money, and I still have money. Some of it I got when my parents died, some was given to my by my grandparents, and a great deal was my share of the spoils from the months that I was at sea. Also, my grandmother was the daughter of a respected and very well-to-do merchant family – she knew something about investing and saving. Under her guidance, I managed to build up a rather large sum of money for myself. Enough that I could pay the bill for three or four ships as seriously damaged as the Pearl."
When she got no answer to this, Winn asked nervously, "Jack?"
"You're telling me . . . that you have over . . . over a thousand pounds tucked away?"
Winn couldn't read his voice at all. "Well, it's actually closer to two thousand now, but essentially, yes. That's what I'm telling you."
"And you're spending some of that to repair my ship."
"No, I'm spending some of it repair our home."
Silence. "Why didn't you mention this before?"
"Because it wasn't important. You married me, not what I possess. But we do have enough to make the repairs to the Pearl and to pay the men and the shipwrights."
"That's not what concerns me now, Winnie. Why didn't ever tell me this before?"
"Would it have mattered if I did?"
"It might have."
"And if a circumstance had arisen that you had needed to know, I would have told you."
"Just, just reassure me of one thing, Winnie." Winn could see the voice that went with the voice Jack was using. It was an expression of strained patience, of near desperate pleading. "Why did you feel the need to keep such information secret? That's all I want to know."
"Because . . . because . . . ." Could she really justify keeping a secret like that? Now that she actually took the time to think about it, Winn could understand why Jack might have a right to be upset.
"Was it because you wanted to have enough funds to support yourself should you ever decide that things weren't working out and you wanted to leave?" The anger slowly working its way into his voice unnerved her. "Was it so you could make sure you didn't have to depend on me? Was it because you didn't trust me to take care of you?"
"Jack . . . ." Why was he being like this? She had told him, perhaps not as speedily as she should have, but she had still told him. Why was he getting upset?
"Answer me, Winn." The anger had turned harsh, demanding that she give an accounting of her thoughts, actions, and motivations. It also succeeded in kindling her own temper.
"Did you ever think that maybe I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid you would think those things?" Winn struggled to get away from Jack, not wanting to be near him when he was so full of suspicions and doubts. "That maybe I thought that if I told you, my money would become the thing you valued most about me, and not who I was?"
"That I would act like a pirate?"
"Yes, if that's what you want to hear. Gold can be a curse even if there's no supernatural means behind it. What mattered was that the money was there should we ever need it. I do hope that you noticed I said 'we'? I wasn't keeping an escape fund, Jack, and I can't believe you would accuse me of that after all these years. If you want the truth, I hadn't even thought of the money in years. I haven't needed to. I would be perfectly happy living in a sea-side hut somewhere if only I was sure that you belonged to me as much as I belong to you." Winn knocked Jack's arms aside and scooted to the other end of the bunk. "And despite the fact that all I want to do is see our home restored to its former state, you're angry at me. If you truly feel that way, then maybe I will go invest in a hut somewhere until you come to your senses, Jack Sparrow, because I will not live with you as long as you think that I would ever let myself have such a convenient excuse to leave you. I can assure you that should I ever leave, I will have fought and agonized for months to discover a way to do so."
"Winnie –"
"Don't you dare 'Winnie' me, Sparrow. I'm still mad at you." Despite the trace of remorse in his voice, Winn was still upset enough to keep herself separate from him a little longer. In the ensuing silence, Winn heard Jack shift his weight and felt a hand rest on her arm. She knew that it was supposed to be a silent apology, and knew that she was going to give in, but couldn't help saying petulantly, "Don't touch me, Sparrow."
He ignored her, as she suspected his would, and Winn allowed herself to be pulled back into a pair of encircling arms. "You better listen carefully and appreciate what I'm about to say, because I don't say it often. I'm sorry for doubting you, and I do trust you. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything. It's just that you shocked me a bit for a moment."
"Then why haven't you said anything about the baby? That shocked you too."
"Because I'm conserving my energy. But trust me, love, we will be havin' a nice, long, exhaustive talk as soon as we're free from here. And you will listen to me without interruption."
They fell into silence once again. Several minutes later, Winn asked, "Are you still mad?"
"No. Are you?"
"A little."
Jack sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Anything I can do to help?"
Winn pretended to think. "A kiss might help. But then again, it might just agitate me."
"I'll risk it."
"No you won't. You enjoy agitating me."
"True, but you must admit that we have ever so much fun whilst I try to make up for it." She could feel the warmth of his breath on her neck, could feel his head lowering to hers in the dark.
"Yes, but we can't afford that much fun right now." As her breath bounced off Jack's face to fan hers, Winn stopped talking because it became too difficult to get anything out through the fog overtaking her mind. Oh, he's much too good at this.
Dawn came and found the pirate and his lover dressed and once again seated side by side on the bunk. Jack was no longer holding Winn in his arms, but he had refused to give up her hand. She clung to it as she waited for Gandolfi or one of his men to come fetch her. He had said he wanted to settle the matter between them this morning, and from her past experience off the man, he kept to his schedule. Today . . . today she would learn just what was to become of her and her husband, and just what their chances of escape were going to be. Today. She had never hated the word more, but there was no help to it. She had placed her life within the influence of not only her husband, but of the man holding them both prisoner. Today she was going to have to give the act of her life and be more aware than she had ever been before. There was more than just her life or Jack's at stake. This time, the life of her child, the only child she might ever have, was at risk. She wasn't about to fail.
Never taking her eyes off the door, Winn said in an almost inaudible voice, "I won't fail, Jack. Not this time."
Jack didn't bother asking what other time she had failed, knowing the state of mind that had prompted the promise. He simply replied, "Neither will I, love."
There was nothing else to say or do besides wait.
"So good of you to join me for breakfast, signorina. Please, have a seat."
Biting back the comment that she hadn't had any other choice than to 'join him for breakfast,' Winn did as she had been bidden. As she placed her napkin in her lap and as Gandolfi served them both out of the same dishes, Winn took the opportunity to discretely glance around the room. There wasn't much to see. Bare walls and the table at which she sat at. Even the portholes showed nothing but grey sky.
"Do you take sugar or cream in your tea, signorina?"
"Neither," she paused to make him think she had to think to remember the social niceties. "Thank you." This obviously wasn't the man's room; she would gain no insight into him here. Winn picked up her fork as he did, and winced as she saw the eggs on her plate. Her stomach revolted against the thought of eating them, but what choice did she have? To not eat, even though their food and drink came from the same containers, would be a serious insult, and she couldn't afford to anger the man at the moment. Her job was to dance to his tune and pass along her impressions to Jack. Hoping that she could make it through the meal without embarrassing herself or giving away her changing circumstances, Winn slowly brought a bite of food to her mouth and forced herself to chew and swallow. She looked up to find Gandolfi's eyes on her.
"Is the food not to your liking, cara?"
"No, signor. It jus' hurts t'chew, that's all."
"And why would that be?" Winn turned her bruised cheek towards him. "Ahh, so your captain was not pleased to see you?"
"One might say that. Then again, one might say I asked for it."
"Why stay with a man who beats you?"
"Why do wives stay wi' men who're unfaithful t'their vows, who fritter away th' fam'ly fortune on drink, games, and loose women? It's a matter of security and choosin' th' known evil, signor. A woman, no matter her status or upbringin', must always be mindful of these things. E'en women who would seem t'be outside such concerns. Sparrow may occasionally raise his hand again me, but that's th' worst he does. Th' same can't be said of other men."
Gandolfi raised an eyebrow. "You're quite philosophical about the entire matter."
Is that suspicion? "Philosophical?"
"You've given the matter a great deal of thought." The hint of the roused predator was gone, hopefully placated by her apparent ignorance.
"Oh, aye." Winn shrugged a shoulder as she took a bite of toast. Without waiting to swallow, she continued, "There's not much else t'do when th' ship's becalmed and your man's busy elsewhere." She swallowed and drank from her goblet of water, praying that the scent of the eggs was not going to cause her to loose the little that had gone into her stomach that morning.
Gandolfi continued to watch her as she slowly finished a piece of dry toast, making Winn nervous. Her spine was ready to bow and she wished desperately for longer hair that she could hide behind, wanted to squirm in her seat like a child caught misbehaving, but didn't. The more indifferent she appeared, the more he would try to bait her into giving something away. She had to ensure that the only things she ended up giving away where the things she was willing to loose.
"So, cara, I am curious." Winn looked up from her plate and met the man's eyes, wondering what his angle was now. When she didn't ask what he was curious about, Gandolfi continued. "Wherever did you get your name? Was it given to you, or did you choose it yourself?"
"Would it matter, signor? A name is a name."
"I see your point. 'That which we call a rose, by any other name would smell as sweet?'" Winn stared at him blankly, pretending she had never heard the overused line from Shakespeare. "The reason I ask, is I was wondering if you had chosen the name from history, or literature."
"Forgive my ignorance, but I'm not much of a reader nor a scholar. Is there a particular Morgan you're talkin' about?"
"Several. Have you ever heard of Morgan le Fay?" Winn shrugged, a reply that could be taken either way. "If you haven't let me tell you about her. She was another woman who tried to live outside of societies rigid dictates. Her brother was named Arthur. He was a great man, destined to be king of all Britton, but she envied his power, his destiny. Many times she tried to destroy him, to kill him. She even turned to magic in her quest against him, becoming a sorceress who tricked even Arthur's own magician into teaching her more of the dark craft. And in the end, she changed her appearance to make the king sleep with her so she could get a son from him – a son who would later kill him."
Winn was uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was taking. "The tale seems familiar. Didn't she also take him away t'an island t'heal him until th' day he's supposed t'return an' once again rule over all good Englishmen? If she was a healer, she couldn't have been all bad. Especially t'heal a man she claimed t'hate." Oh, her stomach was protesting against what she had eaten. Please let the morning sickness pass, she prayed. I can't afford this now. "But t'answer your question, no, I didn't choose my name because of her."
"Then how about this Morgan? You may have better knowledge of this man, Henry Morgan, a famous pirate and buccaneer whose grounds these waters were. Common belief says he raided hundreds of ships in his career, both here and in the Old World. I even knew the family who owned one of the ships he raided. He took their daughter and forced her to marry him in some kind of pagan ceremony. Perhaps this is the man you took your name from?"
Again Winn shrugged. "Perhaps, although I think you may be mistaken about th' pagan marriage. An' the force involved. I have it on good authority that Isabella Mussolini was a willin' party, an' that she insisted on a Christian ceremony a year later, although Morgan never wanted that part t'get out. It would sound too much as if he were easily swayed by th' dictates of his wife. He thought th' other pirates would laugh at him."
Gandolfi stared at her as if the gates of hell had opened behind her back. "In the name of all that is holy . . . ."
"Aye, their marriage was holy. An' you ask how I know this? Who d'you think th' grandmother who taught me Italian was? Why d'you think I go by the name 'Morgan?' Th' answer is simple. I'm th' last of th' line."
The woman had to be blessed by the devil himself. He was no longer dealing with a woman who had no family, no ancestors. He was dealing with someone who claimed to be the granddaughter of a woman who had very nearly been his sister-in-law before her family had decided to marry her off to a richer and more prosperous English merchant family. The granddaughter of someone he had long ago given up for dead, a murdered innocent, another victim of pirates and their filthy ways. Looking closer now he could see the faint resemblance, the shape of her eyes, the point of her chin, the shade of her hair. It was as if he were looking at a badly painted portrait of the woman he had known.
And if this woman spoke the truth? If Isabella had indeed willingly married the pirate Henry Morgan and had willingly bore him offspring, how did that change what he was planning to do? Did it change it at all, or did it make Isabella Mussolini a traitor to her class and the morals it stood for? Did that make this woman so entirely deprived of any morals that any plans of vengeance he contemplated not only vengeance but heavenly judgment as well?
Before his thoughts could become any more confused, before any more doubts could enter his mind and weaken his resolve, the woman bolted up from the table and raced to the door. Opening it, she just made it over the threshold before doubling in half as her stomach rebelled against her control. He watched in dismay and delight as she stood, holding back dry heaves, met her eyes as she turned to meet his. There was nervousness hidden there, anxiety fighting her carefully masked control. What reason had she to be nervous?
Letting his eyes take in the entirety of her form, he saw something he had missed before. Her clothes were loose and flowing, as if they were designed to hide something. Studying her more closely, he saw the one thing that could be missed without careful and painstaking examination – the slight swell of a belly, one not caused by an abundance of food and drink. Indeed, the rest of her was so slim, that it now stood out clearly. The strumpet was pregnant.
God smiled upon him. This wasn't revenge – it was the will of God. Who was he to shirk his duty? She had been right when she had said that the line ended with her.
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A/N 2: just a clarification of the baby names from the last chapter. They were intentionally picked out for their incredible amount of Sue-ness. (Although I did like Diamantina and Marieileen.) I'm sorry to disappoint the majority who liked the name 'Riley' (I swear I can work it into a third story should you all want to read one), but it is a little modern. Let me assure you that I have the perfect name picked out – one I hope you all like. I do need some help with the last name, however. Should the child simply be "Sparrow" or should I go along with Winn who is insisting upon "Morgan Sparrow"? I like the two last names – it reminds me of 'Morganstern', but I'd like your input.
Author's Thanks: You guys amaze me. If I were still doing comprehensive thanks to each and every one of you, I'd be at this for hours on end! You guys truly motivate me. It's great to have such loyal readers (and friends).
jackfan2 – have read through the first chapter of Rat's story. Will eventually get to yours. Not reading so much at the moment – too much of a distractions. I'm such a procrastinator. ; )
pirate-miss
completeopposites
TaraRose
mollymo – new reviewer! You can rock the glasses of milk I drink every day, because for some odd reason, your name makes me think of cows. Don't ask me why, I'm not quite sure how my brain arrives at conclusions. : ) Great to hear from you.
VagrantCandy
KamiKazeCreamPuff – yeah! You're back. Been awhile since I've heard from you. You were right about the MS element to those names. You have no idea how much fun I had picking them out of a checked out baby book and imagining the outcries that would arise upon reading them. *looks around for outcries* Hmm . . . either my plan backfired, or my reviewers are way to polite to tell me I'm nuts. : )
mooranda
Mooney – thanks for the suggestions.
Ariandir – hope you're feeling better.
jigglykat
bobo3
BeBe – Gee, I'm glad someone caught on to my little pattern of giving something of a light hearted chapter before diving back down to the depths. : ) I do do that, I think mainly to give some sort of release from tension, not only for readers, but for me too. I can only remain serious for so long before it starts to seem tedious.
EricaDawn – well, there were pirates around until about the American civil war, after which things just got too dangerous, but the height of pirate activity was between the late 1500's and late 1700's. Disney never gave us a time period, so I'm going with the early 1700's or thereabouts. Besides, the Jolly Roger (the pirate flag) wasn't used until the early 1700's anyway. (Are proud of my research?) If only I found out what year corsets became popular, I'd really have a time period hammered out. Good to hear from you who are a new reviewer. You can rock my nonexistent, yet hopefully forthcoming, pirates books off my bookshelves.
Ginny-Star – thanks for the name suggestions, but as I said, I have a good name chosen that I think you'll all like.
Daze19 – I agree, it is about time you start reviewing. : ) No, just glad to actually hear from you. New reviewers really do make my day. I'm running out of things that can be rocked, but you can rock my keyboard, as long as I'm not working on the next chapter or trying to sleep. ; )
lilitaliandragon
bboarding323 – glad to hear from you again. : )
Eledhwen - you also caught onto the purposeful MS quality of those names. I kept having visions of airheaded Barbiedoll girls when I was choosing them. *shudder* I'd never label Winn and Jack's child with one of those. Winn is way to sensible to even suggest such things. Let me just say that the name will be a blend of Welsh, Winn, and Jack.
SuzzieQue – you're the second person to mention my pattern of making a calm before the storm. (Wasn't that the name of the chapter?) It's like I need to reward myself for making it through the last few chapters and a bolster for the next few to come. These next in particular are going to be difficult to write.
Clover the Sea-Beast – look! This week I brought you a whole chest of pretty sea baubles. Shells, and shells, and those little glass pebbles you can find, and pretty rocks, and more shells that I found, and a Spanish doubloon, and some kind of ancient Greek coin, and more shells . . . . Feeling better yet? Or have you simply 'goo-ed' someone recently. : )
SprklingSatine – love your name, love that you're a new reviewer. You can rock my bottle of Martinelli's sparkling cider, what say you to that? : ) Glad that you appreciate the hard work that's gone into making Winn a real person and making sure that she screws up every once in awhile. It's hard when you really like your characters. Hope to hear from you again.
Alej – nope, no clues. You know I like to keep you all guessing. : ) Yes, I know, I'm evil. What can I say?
Kerry
Talabar – I couldn't resist, mate. Throwing the name Kiera in was too tempting. I know, I'm awful, but luckily I wasn't serious. : )
Rustic Zebra – for some reason I think you've reviewed before, but I may be mistaken. Things like that happen a lot for me. You have no idea how many times a day I unintentionally lie because I forget something. Let me know if this was your first review, and I'll think of something for you to rock. : )
And that's the end of my two pages of thanks. And that's in Times New Roman, 12pt., single spaced. My fingers hurt.
