Just a quick note that I forgot to put on the last posting - I'm nineteen! Yay me! Anywho, onwards!
*~*~*
It wasn't the sound of the storm that shook Jack from his deep slumber, nor the loud thumps and clangs that were emanating from the newly fired up smithy. No, it was the familiar sound of his wife singing softly, and the unfamiliar sense of being alone in his bed. He opened his eyes, turning his head to find her sat close by the bed, Beth cradled in her arms, against the encroaching swell of her mother's waistline, as she sang one lilting melody after another. One look at the child told him that there was no need for such soothing sounds, but Marin seemed somehow lost this evening, as though she was the one who needed the comfort of a familiar voice to send her off to sleep.
He watched her silently, feeling within himself once again that slight disbelief that his life had worked out the way it had. A little over three years before, he had been his own person, with his ship and his crew beside him, no thought of settling on land had ever occurred to him. And now, he was married to a fiery woman who stood no taller than his shoulder, father to a beautiful daughter and an unknown quantity that would be born within the next couple of months, settled into life on an island . . . and not missing the ocean as much as he had thought he would.
Glancing past his wife and daughter, to look out at the storm through the glass windows Esteban had insisted on having in all the little houses, Jack could see across the little square to where the smithy door stood open, despite the weather. Will stood inside, his forge lighting up the room, making him seem somehow bigger than he was as he brought his hammer down hard on the anvil. Jack smiled faintly. A smithy was definitely Will's element, though he had been a good pirate. Perhaps that wandering restlessness that had plagued him since the business with Barbossa would finally let him be now.
Matthew was growing fast, his looks thankfully a sweet mix of Will and Elizabeth. Jack did not know how they would have coped had Elizabeth's son grown up to look just like her. As it stood, he was a dark-haired stocky lad, with eyes the colour of the sky after a storm, and a robust sense of humour that only Gibbs could have instilled into him. He spent much of his days with his father, learning quickly where in the smithy he could and couldn't go, and how he could help Will with the sheer volume of orders the young blacksmith had received.
Even after all this time, Will Turner was still the best blacksmith within five islands, and now, people knew where they could find him. Ships visited the island everyday, sometimes bringing supplies and items to trade. At other times their cargo would be people, whole families who wished to settle among the pirates, and were often welcomed with open arms. And weaving in and out of all this were the Royal Navy's men, who made sure nothing untoward happened on the island.
No one was particularly happy about their presence, least of all James, who felt that his past should have stayed in Port Royale where he left it. Despite having resigned his commission to live alongside his cousin and friends here on the island, he had found himself in command of the small troop of marines who had been sent out to the island, and was not in the least bit amused. In fact, he seemed to spend every day on the lookout for a reason to send them all back home again.
His partners in this were the other children of the island, led by none other than Dugan and Devante. Both boys had suddenly shot up in height, and soon no one would be able to deny that they were becoming young men. Dugan's familiar impish smile had matured into a mischievous grin that seemed to have the most peculiar effect on the island's young girls, as indeed, Devante's wild Hispanic looks did also.
The only one who seemed completely unaffected by their posturing and attempts at impressing her was Esperanza, who had changed beyond all recognition in the ten or so months that she and her family had been on the island. The once weak, sickly little girl had grown tall and slender, her health improving by the day in the warmth of the Caribbean climate. She was as lovely as her brother was handsome, and no one would guess now that they were anything other than twins. Dugan's fascination with her had not abated, and Jack had heard from various sources that she was not averse to his advances. It looked like the island was well on its way to its first wedding.
And Marin . . . Jack smiled to himself as his gaze returned to his preoccupied wife. Well, Marin had been made the unofficial governor of her little island, the one people turned to when they needed a situation dealt with. It was, after all, Marin who had wrested control of her island back from the slavers, and in doing so, freed the former slaves who now made their home with her. It was Marin who had sent for building materials, trading supplies and food, and it was her call that had been answered by the various ships and ports. And it was Marin who welcomed everyone who wanted to live among them with open arms, trusting her gut instinct to tell her if something was amiss.
Jack was inordinately proud of his wife, and everything she had accomplished. He knew that there was not one person on the island who would even consider turning against her, and it wasn't because they were fearful of her temper. It was because not one of them wanted to face the bitter disappointment that they would cause in her. Marin held them in the palm of her hand because of who she was, nothing more. And Jack was pleased to be able to admit that he had been clutched in that fist longer than most.
She sighed suddenly, shaking herself out of her reverie with an inward smile as she noticed her husband's watchful eyes on her.
'Can't sleep, love?' he asked softly, not seeing the need to climb out of the bed to talk with her.
Marin shook her head, standing to gently lay her daughter within her own blankets once again. She winced, reaching behind her to rub tired fingers across the small of her back as she straightened. Jack sat up, alarmed. Marin had never said anything about back pain during her pregnancy, and yet she was obviously feeling it. Who knew what else she was hiding from him?
She saw his alarmed look and couldn't prevent herself from grinning as she returned to lie by his side, groaning in pleasure as the muscles in her back relaxed slowly. Jack slipped an arm about her, chuckling as an energetic foot within her womb objected to the familiar pressure.
'Active little bugger tonight, isn't he?' he murmured, holding himself up on one elbow so that he could watch her as she slowly let herself sleep.
'I don't know why you're so certain it will be a boy,' Marin argued sleepily, stretching against the sheets like a cat. 'It could just as easily be another girl.'
Jack shrugged.
'It could, aye,' he conceded. 'But two pounds says it'll be a boy.'
Marin laughed suddenly. She loved the way Jack had refused to let go of his piratical ways, even with her.
'Done,' she agreed. 'You do realise you've not yet won a bet with me?'
Jack grinned.
'Everyone's got to start somewhere, love,' he chuckled. 'One day I'll win, and then every day after that will be my winning streak.'
His wife snorted incredulously.
'Yeah, just like every time you visited Port Royale you used to be caught and put in jail,' she pointed out, trying not to laugh at his pained expression.
'Whenever we get onto anything like this, you always bring that up,' he winced.
'Well, it just illustrates my point,' she shrugged, flinching as a rather hard kick thumped against the inside of her womb. 'Jack, I think you should move your arm.'
His hand was already moving, this time to lie gently against the arm closest to his body and let their child settle without distractions.
'I think this one's going to be trouble,' he murmured, making her giggle quietly at the foreboding tone of his voice. 'Besides, what is your point, love, that my being locked up illustrates it so well?'
'I don't know,' Marin yawned. 'I'm too tired for constructive thought.'
Jack gave her a mock glare.
'You don't have a point, do you?' he asked shrewdly, vindicated by her slight blush as she answered him.
'I do,' she defended herself indignantly. 'I just haven't had the chance to work out all the little bits of it yet.'
Jack's laugh was low and triumphant.
'Like the point itself,' he grinned. 'Love, you still blush when you lie.'
Marin rolled her eyes in consternation, raising her hands to press her fingers against her rosy cheeks. Jack pulled her hands down gently, kissing her cheeks with a wicked grin.
'I reckon old Fitz must have enjoyed watching you blush,' he laughed softly. 'After all, the only time you do is when you lie.'
'Oh, I can remember a couple of times when I couldn't lie and I still blushed,' Marin chuckled, finding herself caught up in her husband's good humour.
Jack's eyebrows rose in interest.
'May I ask when?' he inquired.
Marin's smile was secretively victorious.
'You can ask all you like,' she said cheekily. 'But I'm going to sleep.'
She turned over, pulling the blanket across herself as Jack settled down behind her, his arm slipping around her waist to lie comfortably atop her bump. There was no movement from the child within, thank heavens.
'Beth's not going to like not being the only child, is she?' Jack murmured suddenly in the darkness, his breath blowing warm air into her hair.
Marin sighed.
'No, I don't think so,' she said, her voice almost inaudible. 'But there's nothing we can do about it.'
A gentle kiss was planted beneath her ear, accompanied by the familiar scratch of Jack's beard as he worked his way down her neck to stop at her shoulder.
'We'll weather that storm when we come to it,' he told her, breathing in her intriguing scent of sea salt, musk and some feminine smell he could not describe as anything other than Marin. 'Whatever happens.'
Marin nodded slowly, her face rubbing against the pillow.
'But what if -'
A tender hand covered her mouth, cutting off what she had been about to say.
'What ifs make for sleepless nights,' Jack muttered drowsily. 'Go to sleep, love, we'll worry about it in the morning.'
As if to reinforce his gentle order, the child in her womb moved carefully and slowly, and Marin could feel it rearranging itself to sleep comfortably. A soft smile touched her lips as she let her eyes drift closed. If this one did turn out to be a boy, then it seemed she'd have two Jack Sparrows on her hands.
*~*~*
Ildera: And the A/N returns! Ahoy mates!
Jack: *shaking his head* Isn't it a wonder what hormones can do to a rational soul?
James: I wouldn't dream of commenting on it.
Jack: *shrugs* Nah, you're too much of a gentleman. Whereas I, on the other hand, am a pirate.
James: *dryly* I would never have guessed.
Ildera: Boys, please. You promised.
*Both hang their heads for a moment*
James + Jack: Sorry, 'dera.
Ildera: *snigger* I love being the author . . . what was it I was going to say? *thinks*
*dustball blows across monitor*
Ildera: Oh yes! Well, my dears, would you believe I have actually finished Fair Wind Or Foul? Don't panic, there's a quite a bit of it left to be posted, but I am stuck as to how you might like it. All in one lump, or spread out a bit? And what shall I do now I have no Marin and Jack to occupy my time? *hint, hint* I need suggestions, people!
Jack: I, for one, don't wish to become a wasted muse, trapped inside her head for all eternity.
Ildera: And what's wrong with my head?
Jack: Nothing, love, nothing. It's just, well, it's just a tad crowded in here, what with your entire cast of performers making their homes in various recesses.
Ildera: Ah. Sorry.
James: We understand, 'dera. Not your fault.
Jack: But -
James: *treads heavily on Jack's foot* Shall we proceed with the reviews? *smiles and bows*
Ildera: Ooooh . . .
*THUD*
Jack: *stops hopping around and bursts out laughing*
James: My goodness! What happened?
Jack: It would appear, mate, that although our dear 'dera is immune to both the Sparrow grin and the Turner smile, she's never been visited full force by the Norrington charm before. Don't worry, she'll wake up in a minute.
James: *peering at 'dera's inert form* Are you quite sure?
Jack Fairly. *chuckles* Ah, it would appear we have new arrivals to the shores of Doubloon and Wind.la chica mysteriosa, my I extend our warmest regards? And those of the author, of course. *reads review* You see, ranting like that won't have any effect on the fair 'dera, here. She knows herself for what she is, and freely admits her evil tendencies . . . right, Jim?
James: *sigh* James. And yes.
Jack: And I've been told rather forcefully not to reveal any of the secrets coming up in the story, and that includes, I'm afraid, my own children. I suppose you'll just have to keep reading, won't you? *grin*
James: *bows to next reviewer* Trinity144, welcome. Do not be ashamed of your tears, 'dera has a habit of dropping emotional scenes on people with all the subtly of a brick. And no, this is not the end. Yet.
Ildera: *groaning* Must resist charm . . .
Jack: Read this, it'll make you feel better.
Ildera: *blinks at review shoved in front of her face* Oooh! heather321, what a lovely compliment! But I hope it doesn't take you another two and a half days to catch up again. Chapters to come? Hmmm . . . six, and an epilogue. *waggles finger warningly* But that's all you're getting out of me until I post them. Oooh, and Ariandir's The Sundered Map ID is 1494114, okay?
Jack: Ms. Baldwin, rum? *offers bottle*
James: Put that away. Good manners dictate that a lady should be offered a 'refreshment' of her choice, not just a half empty bottle you've already downed several times in the past few minutes.
Jack: *taking a swig* Pirate.
James: Unfortunately.
Ildera: Gentlemen, we have business to attend to. *pause* good grief, I'm spending far too much time in their company. I'm even beginning to talk like them. Anywho, Ms. Baldwin, I'm glad you've enjoyed my meanderings so far and I AM keeping up the work, honest I am! I've just run out of ideas, that's all!
James: Lady Quinn, how wonderful to see you once more. I trust you recieved Ildera's email?
Ildera: It wasn't meant to sound churlish or anything . . . I'm just a little agitated at the mo, can't think why. *wink*
Jack: I'm sure 'dera's thrilled you're enjoying the chapters, Elentari II. A little encouragement is all she needs.
James: *mutters* And a lot of cruelty.
Jack: *snorts* Too right, mate.
Ildera: Dryandra, look, an A/N! Don't panic, there will be no more BIG ANNOUNCEMENT for the remainder of the fic. I can't promise for any subsequent fics, but hey . . . humour me. I'm glad you liked the song - it's called the Parting Glass, and I couldn't resist putting it in again.
Jack: Ooof! *splutters as he wipes snow from his face* What was that for?
James: *grin* My apologies, Jack, I was merely following orders.
Jack: Whose orders? Let me see that . . .*snatches review* Oh. *nervous grin* Hello again, Sparrow's Pearl.
Ildera: *sniggering* Oh, that was priceless. Hmm, Will's Wanton Woman? Nah . . . Turner's Tart? Oh, please . . . I think you'd be better sticking to Sparrow's Pearl. Even if he is an annoying rascal at times.
Jack: Hmph. Savy! Love, where have you been? Michael's been missing you . . . and I'll have you know I'm wrapped around no one's little finger, thank you.
James: Just clutched in one rather small fist.
Jack: Exactly. And proud of it.
Ildera: Lucy, you have to keep reading, sweetheart. I have a big surprise for you!
Jack: Is it -
Ildera: *brandishing a cutlass* Not a word, Sparrow, not one word.
Jack: Where did you learn to do that?
Ildera: This? Oh, SP taught me. You know it's amazing how much you pick up when you're teetering at the end of a plank.
James: MarsMoonStar . . . er . . . coolioz, I believe the word is, to you too. And Miss emma436, your suggestion has been taken on board. Keep reading, please.
Ildera: Lady Skywalker, how am I doing? Hit your computer a couple of times for me, would you? I don't like not getting your reviews. And Willette aka Belle, thank you SO much for the graphic description of your orange juice. Breakfast will never be the same again.
Jack: Ariandir! The emails long in the coming, she knows, but she will get back to you at some poitn, I swear.
James: Would you trust the word of a pirate?
Jack: No more'n I'd trust the word of a commodore.
James: Former commodore, thank you.
Jack: *shrugs* Whatever.
Ildera: MiseryLovesCokmpany, don't go! It's not over yet, I swear! And Haul on The Bowline is an actual shanty, would you believe.
James: Shades of a naval family, you see.
Ildera: Much as I may try to hide, my inherant grasp of historical accuracy remains. *sigh*
James: Dell-Doo, I don't believe Dugan has any fans as such, but I shall be sure to pass on your regards.
Jack: You do that, Jamezy-Poo.
James: I do wish you wouldn't read over my shoulder.
Jack: oh, don't you like your new nickname? Shame.
Ildera: Yep, lilitaliandragon, more kiddies, and don't think I'm going to stop there! I was going to email you with my reason for the bizarre posting, but my server wouldn't let me connect with your email address. I'll try again later, maybe it'll work when it's had a bit of time to think about it. And of course Will can sing . . . pirate is in his blood, isn't it?
Jack: And yes, Storm13, my wife does appear to be constantly pregnant.
James: I should think you have a hand in that, Jack.
Ildera: More than a hand.
James: Miss 'dera! Please!
Ildera: * rolling eyes* Sorry. Men with manners, eh?
James: I would ask you not to make a mockery of me, 'dera.
Ildera: You're doing a fine job of that on your own, Jimbo.
James: JIMBO!?!
Jack: Moving swiftly onwards, we shall see you all soon, until then goodbye, now we should go before they kill each other! Drink up, etc!
*~*~*
It wasn't the sound of the storm that shook Jack from his deep slumber, nor the loud thumps and clangs that were emanating from the newly fired up smithy. No, it was the familiar sound of his wife singing softly, and the unfamiliar sense of being alone in his bed. He opened his eyes, turning his head to find her sat close by the bed, Beth cradled in her arms, against the encroaching swell of her mother's waistline, as she sang one lilting melody after another. One look at the child told him that there was no need for such soothing sounds, but Marin seemed somehow lost this evening, as though she was the one who needed the comfort of a familiar voice to send her off to sleep.
He watched her silently, feeling within himself once again that slight disbelief that his life had worked out the way it had. A little over three years before, he had been his own person, with his ship and his crew beside him, no thought of settling on land had ever occurred to him. And now, he was married to a fiery woman who stood no taller than his shoulder, father to a beautiful daughter and an unknown quantity that would be born within the next couple of months, settled into life on an island . . . and not missing the ocean as much as he had thought he would.
Glancing past his wife and daughter, to look out at the storm through the glass windows Esteban had insisted on having in all the little houses, Jack could see across the little square to where the smithy door stood open, despite the weather. Will stood inside, his forge lighting up the room, making him seem somehow bigger than he was as he brought his hammer down hard on the anvil. Jack smiled faintly. A smithy was definitely Will's element, though he had been a good pirate. Perhaps that wandering restlessness that had plagued him since the business with Barbossa would finally let him be now.
Matthew was growing fast, his looks thankfully a sweet mix of Will and Elizabeth. Jack did not know how they would have coped had Elizabeth's son grown up to look just like her. As it stood, he was a dark-haired stocky lad, with eyes the colour of the sky after a storm, and a robust sense of humour that only Gibbs could have instilled into him. He spent much of his days with his father, learning quickly where in the smithy he could and couldn't go, and how he could help Will with the sheer volume of orders the young blacksmith had received.
Even after all this time, Will Turner was still the best blacksmith within five islands, and now, people knew where they could find him. Ships visited the island everyday, sometimes bringing supplies and items to trade. At other times their cargo would be people, whole families who wished to settle among the pirates, and were often welcomed with open arms. And weaving in and out of all this were the Royal Navy's men, who made sure nothing untoward happened on the island.
No one was particularly happy about their presence, least of all James, who felt that his past should have stayed in Port Royale where he left it. Despite having resigned his commission to live alongside his cousin and friends here on the island, he had found himself in command of the small troop of marines who had been sent out to the island, and was not in the least bit amused. In fact, he seemed to spend every day on the lookout for a reason to send them all back home again.
His partners in this were the other children of the island, led by none other than Dugan and Devante. Both boys had suddenly shot up in height, and soon no one would be able to deny that they were becoming young men. Dugan's familiar impish smile had matured into a mischievous grin that seemed to have the most peculiar effect on the island's young girls, as indeed, Devante's wild Hispanic looks did also.
The only one who seemed completely unaffected by their posturing and attempts at impressing her was Esperanza, who had changed beyond all recognition in the ten or so months that she and her family had been on the island. The once weak, sickly little girl had grown tall and slender, her health improving by the day in the warmth of the Caribbean climate. She was as lovely as her brother was handsome, and no one would guess now that they were anything other than twins. Dugan's fascination with her had not abated, and Jack had heard from various sources that she was not averse to his advances. It looked like the island was well on its way to its first wedding.
And Marin . . . Jack smiled to himself as his gaze returned to his preoccupied wife. Well, Marin had been made the unofficial governor of her little island, the one people turned to when they needed a situation dealt with. It was, after all, Marin who had wrested control of her island back from the slavers, and in doing so, freed the former slaves who now made their home with her. It was Marin who had sent for building materials, trading supplies and food, and it was her call that had been answered by the various ships and ports. And it was Marin who welcomed everyone who wanted to live among them with open arms, trusting her gut instinct to tell her if something was amiss.
Jack was inordinately proud of his wife, and everything she had accomplished. He knew that there was not one person on the island who would even consider turning against her, and it wasn't because they were fearful of her temper. It was because not one of them wanted to face the bitter disappointment that they would cause in her. Marin held them in the palm of her hand because of who she was, nothing more. And Jack was pleased to be able to admit that he had been clutched in that fist longer than most.
She sighed suddenly, shaking herself out of her reverie with an inward smile as she noticed her husband's watchful eyes on her.
'Can't sleep, love?' he asked softly, not seeing the need to climb out of the bed to talk with her.
Marin shook her head, standing to gently lay her daughter within her own blankets once again. She winced, reaching behind her to rub tired fingers across the small of her back as she straightened. Jack sat up, alarmed. Marin had never said anything about back pain during her pregnancy, and yet she was obviously feeling it. Who knew what else she was hiding from him?
She saw his alarmed look and couldn't prevent herself from grinning as she returned to lie by his side, groaning in pleasure as the muscles in her back relaxed slowly. Jack slipped an arm about her, chuckling as an energetic foot within her womb objected to the familiar pressure.
'Active little bugger tonight, isn't he?' he murmured, holding himself up on one elbow so that he could watch her as she slowly let herself sleep.
'I don't know why you're so certain it will be a boy,' Marin argued sleepily, stretching against the sheets like a cat. 'It could just as easily be another girl.'
Jack shrugged.
'It could, aye,' he conceded. 'But two pounds says it'll be a boy.'
Marin laughed suddenly. She loved the way Jack had refused to let go of his piratical ways, even with her.
'Done,' she agreed. 'You do realise you've not yet won a bet with me?'
Jack grinned.
'Everyone's got to start somewhere, love,' he chuckled. 'One day I'll win, and then every day after that will be my winning streak.'
His wife snorted incredulously.
'Yeah, just like every time you visited Port Royale you used to be caught and put in jail,' she pointed out, trying not to laugh at his pained expression.
'Whenever we get onto anything like this, you always bring that up,' he winced.
'Well, it just illustrates my point,' she shrugged, flinching as a rather hard kick thumped against the inside of her womb. 'Jack, I think you should move your arm.'
His hand was already moving, this time to lie gently against the arm closest to his body and let their child settle without distractions.
'I think this one's going to be trouble,' he murmured, making her giggle quietly at the foreboding tone of his voice. 'Besides, what is your point, love, that my being locked up illustrates it so well?'
'I don't know,' Marin yawned. 'I'm too tired for constructive thought.'
Jack gave her a mock glare.
'You don't have a point, do you?' he asked shrewdly, vindicated by her slight blush as she answered him.
'I do,' she defended herself indignantly. 'I just haven't had the chance to work out all the little bits of it yet.'
Jack's laugh was low and triumphant.
'Like the point itself,' he grinned. 'Love, you still blush when you lie.'
Marin rolled her eyes in consternation, raising her hands to press her fingers against her rosy cheeks. Jack pulled her hands down gently, kissing her cheeks with a wicked grin.
'I reckon old Fitz must have enjoyed watching you blush,' he laughed softly. 'After all, the only time you do is when you lie.'
'Oh, I can remember a couple of times when I couldn't lie and I still blushed,' Marin chuckled, finding herself caught up in her husband's good humour.
Jack's eyebrows rose in interest.
'May I ask when?' he inquired.
Marin's smile was secretively victorious.
'You can ask all you like,' she said cheekily. 'But I'm going to sleep.'
She turned over, pulling the blanket across herself as Jack settled down behind her, his arm slipping around her waist to lie comfortably atop her bump. There was no movement from the child within, thank heavens.
'Beth's not going to like not being the only child, is she?' Jack murmured suddenly in the darkness, his breath blowing warm air into her hair.
Marin sighed.
'No, I don't think so,' she said, her voice almost inaudible. 'But there's nothing we can do about it.'
A gentle kiss was planted beneath her ear, accompanied by the familiar scratch of Jack's beard as he worked his way down her neck to stop at her shoulder.
'We'll weather that storm when we come to it,' he told her, breathing in her intriguing scent of sea salt, musk and some feminine smell he could not describe as anything other than Marin. 'Whatever happens.'
Marin nodded slowly, her face rubbing against the pillow.
'But what if -'
A tender hand covered her mouth, cutting off what she had been about to say.
'What ifs make for sleepless nights,' Jack muttered drowsily. 'Go to sleep, love, we'll worry about it in the morning.'
As if to reinforce his gentle order, the child in her womb moved carefully and slowly, and Marin could feel it rearranging itself to sleep comfortably. A soft smile touched her lips as she let her eyes drift closed. If this one did turn out to be a boy, then it seemed she'd have two Jack Sparrows on her hands.
*~*~*
Ildera: And the A/N returns! Ahoy mates!
Jack: *shaking his head* Isn't it a wonder what hormones can do to a rational soul?
James: I wouldn't dream of commenting on it.
Jack: *shrugs* Nah, you're too much of a gentleman. Whereas I, on the other hand, am a pirate.
James: *dryly* I would never have guessed.
Ildera: Boys, please. You promised.
*Both hang their heads for a moment*
James + Jack: Sorry, 'dera.
Ildera: *snigger* I love being the author . . . what was it I was going to say? *thinks*
*dustball blows across monitor*
Ildera: Oh yes! Well, my dears, would you believe I have actually finished Fair Wind Or Foul? Don't panic, there's a quite a bit of it left to be posted, but I am stuck as to how you might like it. All in one lump, or spread out a bit? And what shall I do now I have no Marin and Jack to occupy my time? *hint, hint* I need suggestions, people!
Jack: I, for one, don't wish to become a wasted muse, trapped inside her head for all eternity.
Ildera: And what's wrong with my head?
Jack: Nothing, love, nothing. It's just, well, it's just a tad crowded in here, what with your entire cast of performers making their homes in various recesses.
Ildera: Ah. Sorry.
James: We understand, 'dera. Not your fault.
Jack: But -
James: *treads heavily on Jack's foot* Shall we proceed with the reviews? *smiles and bows*
Ildera: Ooooh . . .
*THUD*
Jack: *stops hopping around and bursts out laughing*
James: My goodness! What happened?
Jack: It would appear, mate, that although our dear 'dera is immune to both the Sparrow grin and the Turner smile, she's never been visited full force by the Norrington charm before. Don't worry, she'll wake up in a minute.
James: *peering at 'dera's inert form* Are you quite sure?
Jack Fairly. *chuckles* Ah, it would appear we have new arrivals to the shores of Doubloon and Wind.la chica mysteriosa, my I extend our warmest regards? And those of the author, of course. *reads review* You see, ranting like that won't have any effect on the fair 'dera, here. She knows herself for what she is, and freely admits her evil tendencies . . . right, Jim?
James: *sigh* James. And yes.
Jack: And I've been told rather forcefully not to reveal any of the secrets coming up in the story, and that includes, I'm afraid, my own children. I suppose you'll just have to keep reading, won't you? *grin*
James: *bows to next reviewer* Trinity144, welcome. Do not be ashamed of your tears, 'dera has a habit of dropping emotional scenes on people with all the subtly of a brick. And no, this is not the end. Yet.
Ildera: *groaning* Must resist charm . . .
Jack: Read this, it'll make you feel better.
Ildera: *blinks at review shoved in front of her face* Oooh! heather321, what a lovely compliment! But I hope it doesn't take you another two and a half days to catch up again. Chapters to come? Hmmm . . . six, and an epilogue. *waggles finger warningly* But that's all you're getting out of me until I post them. Oooh, and Ariandir's The Sundered Map ID is 1494114, okay?
Jack: Ms. Baldwin, rum? *offers bottle*
James: Put that away. Good manners dictate that a lady should be offered a 'refreshment' of her choice, not just a half empty bottle you've already downed several times in the past few minutes.
Jack: *taking a swig* Pirate.
James: Unfortunately.
Ildera: Gentlemen, we have business to attend to. *pause* good grief, I'm spending far too much time in their company. I'm even beginning to talk like them. Anywho, Ms. Baldwin, I'm glad you've enjoyed my meanderings so far and I AM keeping up the work, honest I am! I've just run out of ideas, that's all!
James: Lady Quinn, how wonderful to see you once more. I trust you recieved Ildera's email?
Ildera: It wasn't meant to sound churlish or anything . . . I'm just a little agitated at the mo, can't think why. *wink*
Jack: I'm sure 'dera's thrilled you're enjoying the chapters, Elentari II. A little encouragement is all she needs.
James: *mutters* And a lot of cruelty.
Jack: *snorts* Too right, mate.
Ildera: Dryandra, look, an A/N! Don't panic, there will be no more BIG ANNOUNCEMENT for the remainder of the fic. I can't promise for any subsequent fics, but hey . . . humour me. I'm glad you liked the song - it's called the Parting Glass, and I couldn't resist putting it in again.
Jack: Ooof! *splutters as he wipes snow from his face* What was that for?
James: *grin* My apologies, Jack, I was merely following orders.
Jack: Whose orders? Let me see that . . .*snatches review* Oh. *nervous grin* Hello again, Sparrow's Pearl.
Ildera: *sniggering* Oh, that was priceless. Hmm, Will's Wanton Woman? Nah . . . Turner's Tart? Oh, please . . . I think you'd be better sticking to Sparrow's Pearl. Even if he is an annoying rascal at times.
Jack: Hmph. Savy! Love, where have you been? Michael's been missing you . . . and I'll have you know I'm wrapped around no one's little finger, thank you.
James: Just clutched in one rather small fist.
Jack: Exactly. And proud of it.
Ildera: Lucy, you have to keep reading, sweetheart. I have a big surprise for you!
Jack: Is it -
Ildera: *brandishing a cutlass* Not a word, Sparrow, not one word.
Jack: Where did you learn to do that?
Ildera: This? Oh, SP taught me. You know it's amazing how much you pick up when you're teetering at the end of a plank.
James: MarsMoonStar . . . er . . . coolioz, I believe the word is, to you too. And Miss emma436, your suggestion has been taken on board. Keep reading, please.
Ildera: Lady Skywalker, how am I doing? Hit your computer a couple of times for me, would you? I don't like not getting your reviews. And Willette aka Belle, thank you SO much for the graphic description of your orange juice. Breakfast will never be the same again.
Jack: Ariandir! The emails long in the coming, she knows, but she will get back to you at some poitn, I swear.
James: Would you trust the word of a pirate?
Jack: No more'n I'd trust the word of a commodore.
James: Former commodore, thank you.
Jack: *shrugs* Whatever.
Ildera: MiseryLovesCokmpany, don't go! It's not over yet, I swear! And Haul on The Bowline is an actual shanty, would you believe.
James: Shades of a naval family, you see.
Ildera: Much as I may try to hide, my inherant grasp of historical accuracy remains. *sigh*
James: Dell-Doo, I don't believe Dugan has any fans as such, but I shall be sure to pass on your regards.
Jack: You do that, Jamezy-Poo.
James: I do wish you wouldn't read over my shoulder.
Jack: oh, don't you like your new nickname? Shame.
Ildera: Yep, lilitaliandragon, more kiddies, and don't think I'm going to stop there! I was going to email you with my reason for the bizarre posting, but my server wouldn't let me connect with your email address. I'll try again later, maybe it'll work when it's had a bit of time to think about it. And of course Will can sing . . . pirate is in his blood, isn't it?
Jack: And yes, Storm13, my wife does appear to be constantly pregnant.
James: I should think you have a hand in that, Jack.
Ildera: More than a hand.
James: Miss 'dera! Please!
Ildera: * rolling eyes* Sorry. Men with manners, eh?
James: I would ask you not to make a mockery of me, 'dera.
Ildera: You're doing a fine job of that on your own, Jimbo.
James: JIMBO!?!
Jack: Moving swiftly onwards, we shall see you all soon, until then goodbye, now we should go before they kill each other! Drink up, etc!