[a/n:  Sorry I didn't clarify this before, but this story takes place in the 10-year span before the movie, after Jack lost the Pearl.  Sorry for the confusion!]

An Endless Tale

Part 2

                Jack woke slowly, eyelids heavy and actions groggy from the drug's lingering effects.  He weakly lifted his head from its resting place on his chest and examined his surroundings through hooded eyes.  The dim lighting, when combined with his hazy vision, made identifying an exact place impossible, but based on the gentle rocking beneath him, his fogged mind concluded he was on a ship.  He shifted, noting with dismay that most of his body was completely asleep and that moving proved rather difficult.  Jack slowly attempted to rise, using the beam he was leaning back against as a support, but ran into a slight problem:  his hands were tied through a loop on the post behind him.  The pirate growled a bit to himself, his mind only now beginning to clear ever so slightly.

                "'Bout time ye're up, mate."  A mocking voice echoed from the vast expanse of shadows in the room.

                Jack's body tensed as much as its barely reactive state would allow and he squinted, searching the shadows ahead of him.  The voice seemed very familiar, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out where he had heard it.

                "So Jack, where did we leave off?"  The voice asked casually, an evil tint in its tone.  It then chuckled, as if just remembering an old joke.  "Oh yes, we were discussing your fate, as it were."

                Jack's eyebrows came together slowly, indicating his confusion regarding the voice's words.

                "Still don't get it, Jack?  Well, let's shed some light on the topic, no?"  The voice sneered, a sudden flare of lantern light accompanying the words.

                Jack's eyes slammed shut, trying desperately to block out the intruding light.  When he ventured to crack his eyes open, he was first met by a simple silhouette of a man against the lantern light, but the details soon began to fill themselves in.  He eventually found himself looking up at a tall, dark-haired man with sharply defined features curled into a sneer of the purest hatred.  Strewn around the room where several rusting tools and weapons of various ages, some with their uses obvious and some being among the strangest contraptions Jack had ever seen.

                "Ah good, you're still awake…I was afraid the poison had taken a larger toll than intended and that you'd miss out on all the fun," the man droned casually, picking up a set of large, sharp-tipped tongs with multiple prongs.

                Jack inched as close he could to the pole at his back, unconsciously putting as much distance as possible between him and his supposed captor.  His eyes narrowed dangerously, not trusting this man's intentions in the least.  "Fun, ya say?"

                The other man grinned harshly, the lantern light casting strange, eerie shadow patterns over his face.  "Oh yes, fun…well, for me at least.  It's about time you learned your lesson, Sparrow.  And I'll teach you, even if it means tearing you limb from agonizing limb."

                Jack shuddered unintentionally, a knot of dark fear growing and constricting in his gut.  He felt tendrils of dark energy reaching up from within him, clouding his mind and further hazing all his movements.

                "I wonder Jack, what part of your body do you value the most?  One would think, given your liking of bedding wenches, that…well, I think you get it."

                Jack's eyes widened as much as they possibly could as what the other was speaking of hit home.  His gaze locked worriedly on the sharp-pronged tongs in the man's hand and the knife hanging from his belt.  "You wouldn'…"

                "I would.  S'less than you deserve, anyways."  The other man hissed, a evil smile playing across his face as he unsheathed the knife with his other hand.

                The darkness was now flooding his mind in waves, growing heavier by the second.  His chest constricted with anxiety, making breathing incredibly difficult.  His eyes began falling shut of their own volition and as his head drooped to rest on his chest once more, he heard his enemy's last words, echoing through the darkness of oblivion:

                "No!  The poison's…"

                Muent glared down at the effects of his handiwork, irritated that the poison had relapsed.  'I'll have to remember to use smaller doses in the future to avoid this situation…takes all the fun out of things.'  Muent thought the last with a shrug, stepping closer to the pirate, knife and tongs brandished dangerously in his hands.  He kneeled down in front Jack, pushing the man's knee out of his way.

                The door to the hold swung open unexpectedly, sending brilliant light cascading down the stairs.  Muent fell back in surprise, landing hard on his rear.  He cursed his bad luck as Ana stormed down the stairs, her jaw set.  She stopped a few feet off, assessing the situation with hard eyes.

                "Ye're sick," she growled finally, her voice laced with disgust.

                "None o' your concern," he shot back shortly, glaring at her from his place on the floor.

                "Right, now where's my ship?"

                Muent pulled himself from the floor, grumbling to no one in particular.  "I'll go git things in order."

                Ana nodded briefly and made to follow him topside, but remained below.  She closed and locked the door, then descended the stairs once more, making her way over to the prisoner.  She kneeled in front of him, then placed her fingers beneath his chin and tilted his head up for her viewing.  The lantern light danced across his slack features, clearing outlining the angles of his handsome face.  His eyelids were coated in slightly smeared kohl and his cocked jaw revealed a few golden teeth.

                She withdrew her hand as the excessive heat from his body transferred into her skin.  Her eyebrows came together in concern as she realized what Muent had missed:  it wasn't a simple poison relapse that had caused the pirate to pass out; it was the fever he had contracted overnight.

                Despite her previous views of the man, she felt herself pitying him for the slow death that Muent would surely subject him to.  She wasn't even sure why she had hated him so in the first place; the man had never done anything to her personally.

                Then, it clicked.

                Her accomplice's opinion had been rubbing off on her over the past few months.  It had been molding itself to her mind and making itself hers.  She took a sharp breath as this realization sank in and her opinion of the unconscious man before her did a complete turnaround, changing from a deep loathing to compassion.

                Jack Sparrow would not die at Muent's hands…not if she could help it.

                Ana retrieved the knife Muent had dropped on his way to the main deck and sat behind the pole to which Jack was tied.  She placed the blade against the bonds and began sawing, making swift progress through the thick rope.

                She froze at the doorknob's rattling, indicating Muent's return.  She tossed the knife into a shadowy corner, then sprang to her feet as the lock gave.  Moments later, Muent descended the hold stairs, followed by three burly men.  Ana casually rose to her feet, not daring a second look at the unconscious pirate.

                "Well?"  Ana asked evenly, a dare glinting in her eyes.

                Muent's face twisted into a feral grin.  "Seems there's been a change of plans, m'dear,"

                "Like what?"

                At the supposedly prearranged signal, two of the three men lunged forward and seized Ana by the arms.

                "Tie 'er up," Muent ordered casually, "and then meet me on deck."

                The brutes nodded, then set about their appointed task, requiring two of them simply to hold the female in place long enough to ensnare her wrists in rope.  She spat at each of them, biting and swearing viciously, attempting to gain a freedom she knew was well out of her reach.  Once Ana was tied securely to another support beam across the room, the three turned and left, ignoring the scratches they had received from their fray with the female.

                Once the door had been shut securely, Ana looked over to Jack.  The lantern was beginning to burn low, casting uneven light throughout the room.  Jack's face was consequently cast in shadows, and the lack of light masked the slow movements of his chest.

                "Jack," Ana hissed, "untie me!"

                Jack's head jerked slightly and he managed to look up to meet her gaze, but with great difficulty.  From what she could tell, the fever was taking its toll, weakening the man quickly.

                "C'mon Jack, it's the perfect time…let's git outta here!"  Ana said quickly, rephrasing her request.

                "What do you care?"  Jack said slowly, his voice heavy.

                Ana's eyebrows came together in dismay…wasn't he even going to try to escape?  She lowered her gaze, a blush coloring her cheeks.  She felt so stupid.  Of course he wouldn't want to help her, she had tried to kill him after all!  "Jack, I'm sorry…"

                No response came from the pirate and she cautiously looked up.  By all accounts, he seemed to have slipped back into unconsciousness as his chin once again rested on his chest.

                "Jack…you okay?" she ventured.

                "Resting," came the sluggish reply.

               Silence fell in the hold, the only sounds that could be heard were the ship's timbers settling and the waves sloshing against the hull.  Minutes later, four sets of footsteps echoed from the deck above, nearing the hold door.

                Ana held her breath, fearing what might happen, but making sure not to let her emotions show on her face.  In accordance with this decision, she forced herself to release the breath and take three deep breaths to calm her nerves.

                Surely Muent wouldn't kill her.  She had been his partner for too long.  True, Jack was pretty much a dead man for whatever offence he had done to Muent, but that wasn't her concern at the moment.  Anger flared inside her at the returning realization that she had been completely cheated in the whole deal.  She had held up her end of the bargain; she got the compass.  Now Muent was going back on his word—the purse he had given her earlier had only contained five pounds and a few stones to make it weigh the same as the agreed amount.

                The door swung open quickly, momentarily blinding Ana with a flood of light.  Large figures soon blocked the light as they descended the stairs and then the light vanished as the door was shut.  Muent and his three thugs lined up in front of Ana and Jack, sneering down at the prisoners.

                "Sorry Ana, but I can't have you messing things up anymore."  Muent said with mock sympathy as he drew his sword from the sheath on his belt, the hiss from the action echoing through the hold.

                "I don't care if you kill me…just mind that if you do, your own flesh and blood'll be on you."

                Muent grinned savagely and backhanded her across the face, splitting her bottom lip.  "Watch yer tongue, wench…I may just have to cut it out.  But first," he sneered, turning his sights to Jack.  "I'll take care of yer friend."

                "He's not my friend."  Ana growled, her voice dangerously low and her eyes burning with hatred.

                Muent stopped his pacing towards Jack and walked back to Ana.  "Not your friend?  Is that why you let him live when your orders were to kill?  Hmm?"

                "I thought he was dead…by all accounts, he should have been-"

                "Enough excuses."  Muent snapped suddenly.  "I'll just have the pleasure of killing Captain Jack Sparrow with my own two hands.  It's less than what he deserves, but it shall have to suffice…wait.  What would be the fun of killing him in one fell swoop?"  Muent asked himself as he sheathed his sword and instead claimed a long, thin wooden pole from the ground as his new weapon of choice.  "Yes, this should be fun."

                The three large men chuckled, but Ana didn't find any humor in the words.  Muent roughly slapped the side of the pole on Jack's ribs, forcing a groan from the man.

                "C'mon Jack, git up and face me like the man you aren't."

                "S'Captain Jack Sparrow…savvy?"  Jack returned weakly, gasping from the blow to his ribs.

                "Shut up."  Muent growled, hitting Jack's ribs again, harder this time.

                Ana's eyes widened and pleaded with Jack to stop his foolish talk; it would only make things worse for both of them.

                Apparently, Jack didn't get the message.

                "That all ye got, mate?  That lass o'er there could hit-"

                Jack was cut off as the pole slammed across his chest, knocking the air from his lungs.

                "Muent, knock it off!"  Ana yelled, temporarily putting a stop to the little game of poke-the-pirate.

                "I'll do as I like," Muent snarled, his eyes not leaving Jack even as his fist connected solidly with the other man's jaw.

                Jack slowly drew his head back to lock his gaze with Muent's, his eyes blazing with a challenge and his jaw set, despite the blood flowing from the corner of his mouth.  "Very brave, mate.  Hittin' a man when he's bound and drugged.  Congrats, to you fer yer audacity."

                "Keep a civil tongue, ye filthy bilge rat!"  Muent yelled, infuriated, and thrust his fist forward, intent on breaking Jack's nose.

                Jack moved his head to the side at the last minute, thereby avoiding Muent's fist, which unintentionally connected with the sturdy wooden beam to which the pirate was tied.  The impact to the corner of the beam split Muent's knuckles, causing blood to spill from the newly created gash.  Muent cradled his injured hand, alternately muttering and yelling curses to the pirate captain.  He brought back one foot and repeatedly started kicking Jack, unleashing all his penned-up anger.  Jack took the hits quietly, his eyes closed as if he were simply sleeping, but the set of his jaw proved him to still be conscious.

                'What's he doin'?!  If he lets Muent use him as a punching bag, there won't be any 'him' left!'  Ana thought to herself, squeezing her eyes shut.

                Muent finally backed off, breathing heavily, and leaving Jack badly bruised with blood staining his shirt.  Jack was also breathing heavily, but not as much as Muent.

                "That…all ye…got, mate?"  Jack muttered between deep breaths, a mocking undertone in his voice.

                Muent's rage peaked again and this time he kicked Jack squarely across the cheek, splitting the skin over his left cheekbone and eking a crack from the pirate's neck.  This time, Jack did not straighten, instead his body slumped to the side, the last strand of the ropes holding him breaking from the awkward strain.

                Muent grinned harshly, his eyes glinting lethally in the minimal light.  "Well, it looks like Jack Sparrow won't interfere again."

[a/n:  Please review, I love seeing your feedback to the story.]