Disclaimer: Still don't know a way to make Jack Sparrow my own, so I shall be content to write about him.
A/N: Well, I had finals today and yesterday and I think they went very well. Only one more to go! So I decided to celebrate and spend a bit of time with Jack and Ana. Hope you don't mind. Don't forget to review on your way out.
As always, italics and ** are a flashback.
Anamaria waited for Jack to respond to her admission, but he didn't. Perhaps a dead husband was not the best conversation starter, but the silence in the room was deafening.
It had been a long time since Ana had thought about Christopher. After his death, all she could do was think about him. She would dwell on her last words to him. She would cry because "Don't forget your overcoat," could never encompass what she had felt for the man. She remembered pacing the floor and yelling at God for taking Christopher away from her. She closed her eyes against the memories, only opening them again when she felt Sparrow's calloused hand on top of her own.
"How did he die?"
"His ship was caught in the hurricane that passed through last August. He was thrown overboard."
"I'm sorry."
"It wasn't your fault," Ana said, finally meeting the pirate's gaze.
Sparrow's eyes narrowed slightly, "how do you know Cornado?" he said changing the subject, his voice a bit colder than before.
Christopher's memory was pushed from Ana's mind as another one took its place.
*****
"Everything's just about ready," her brother announced as he trudged up the rocky path from the dock to where Ana stood by the prison yard, "we can finally say goodbye to this place."
"Not soon enough, if you ask me," Ana said.
Prescott nodded, but before he could reply, a bone chilling scream pierced the humid tropical air. Ana's eyes widened as she turned towards the direction of the sound. That was the same shriek that she had heard in the middle of the night.
"Go," she heard Prescott's voice.
Without hesitation, she went as fast as her feet would take her to the iron gate of the prison yard. Forcing her eyes to remain open, she took in the scene.
The pirate's left arm was strapped down to a stone block in the yard. Blood was oozing from his forearm. A guard stood a few feet behind the pirate, with an empty bottle in one hand and a burning torch in the other.
Ana fought against the bile rising up from her stomach as the stench of burnt flesh assaulted her senses, "what in the name of heaven . . ."
"Punishment."
Ana turned to face Cornado. She had not noticed his arrival. He stood staring at the pirate with satisfaction in his cold gray eyes.
"For what?" she asked.
Cornado looked at her sternly, "for a lifetime of vile crimes," he said indignantly.
Ana turned back to the pirate. He was lying on the ground, as the guard was roughly untying the straps that bound his bleeding arm. "What did you do to him?"
"He has been burned."
"What?"
"It is the only way to cleanse the body of the sort of sins this man has committed."
"You lit his arm on fire!?"
Ana's heart was hammering in her chest. Such cruelty she had never heard of before, let alone seen with her own eyes. She was trembling with the hate she felt for the animal that stood next to her.
The guard was exiting the yard, and without thinking, Ana pushed past him and strode up to the injured pirate. She could see the skin on his arm blistering.
There was a cask of water with a ladle in the far corner of the yard. Ignoring the protests of Cornado and his guards, she filled the ladle and knelt down next to Sparrow.
"Drink," she said softly as she brought the cool liquid to his parched lips. She could hear Cornado's footsteps behind her. He was speaking in Spanish, but there was no mistaking the anger in his voice. She should not have entered the yard, but the pain that monster was capable of inflicting was revolting. She placed her hand on the pirates shoulder and recalled the words to the prayer her brothers always said before going to sea.
"Courage, Captain, do not stumble though thy path be dark as night," she whispered softly, as the wretched man drank from the ladle.
Before she could finish, she felt a hand on her arm. Cornado hauled her brusquely to her feet, "what do you think your doing," Cornado spat his question.
Ana stared into Cornado's eyes, searching for some semblance of human emotion. All she saw was hate. His hand was still clamped around her arm.
"Let her go."
Cornado fixed his eyes over her shoulder. The command came not from Prescott as Ana had imagined, but from the pirate. Somehow the man had managed to pull his battered body from the ground. Ana tried to face him, but Cornado's tight grip on her arm prevented her from moving. The Spaniard drew his pistol and pushed Anamaria out of his way. She turned just in time to see Cornado bring the butt of his weapon down across Sparrow's face. The pirate crumbled to the ground.
*****
"My husband's family was very wealthy," Ana said, "we knew all of the landowners, some better than others."
If she had been asked, Anamaria could not have explained why she lied to the pirate. He had asked her a simple question that he probably had the right to have answered. Maybe it was the scars that Sparrow carried not only on his skin or the way his deep eyes darkened at the mere mention of the Spaniard's name. Whatever the reason for her lie, Sparrow seemed to buy her explanation.
"Your brother seemed to know him," the pirate said rubbing his forehead.
"Prescott has been to La Cerradura."
Sparrow raised his eyebrows.
"Why were you there?" Ana asked.
"It's a prison, why do you think I was there?" he snapped.
Ana pursed her lips, "you know for a man who robbed me and is now enjoying the benefits of my hospitality, you let your tongue run rather freely, don't you Captain?"
Sparrow dropped his hand from his forehead, "listen, luv . . ."
"I have told you my name. I would appreciate if you would use it."
The pirate's eyes widened.
Anamaria continued, "I have gone through rather a lot of trouble for you -"
"I didn't ask you to."
Ana stood up from her spot next to Sparrow, "no, you didn't. I apologize. I acted decently and expected the same from you. I suppose I should have known better than to expect anything from a pirate," she said and headed for the door.
"Anamaria –"
"Goodnight, Mr. Sparrow."
Ana stalked down the hall to her room. She closed the door behind her. Leaning against it, she sighed heavily. Why did she let that man get to her? He was merely a criminal who happened to be injured and taking rest in her guestroom. True, he had stood up for her in la Cerradura, but that was his choice. She owed him nothing. Even if she did, she had more than repaid that debt by giving him money, dressing his wounds, and lying to the Spanish guard.
She sighed again. Her brown eyes came to rest on the ornately carved wardrobe by the window. Crossing the room she opened the wooden doors. Inside hung three sets of civilian attire and four Royal Navy uniforms. Three bore the epaulettes of a captain's uniform. Her husband's uniform. One was the simple uniform of a midshipman. Findley had been fifteen when he was cut down in battle. Both men were gone, but Ana had never been able to part with what little she had left to remember them by. On the bottom of the wardrobe was a pair of boots and the leather tri-corner hat that Christopher used to wear whenever they would go down to the beach and walk along the sandy shore.
She held the hat in her hands, "what am I doing, Chris?" she said aloud.
Ana woke early the next morning. She had fallen asleep in the chair next to the wardrobe still holding her husbands hat. For the first time in months, she had dreamed of la Cerradura. It had taken her so long to banish those memories only to have them crashing down upon her again with Sparrow's arrival last night.
She yawned and made her way to the guestroom. She did not feel that she owed Sparrow any sort of explanation, but perhaps an apology was in order.
"No," she whispered entering the pirate's room. The bed was empty. Sparrow was gone.
That's it for now. I want to once again thank everyone for the wonderful reviews. Master Lizard, thanks for the medical terminology. Sorry that my story kept you from sleep, but I'm glad you liked it. Roseate thanks for the review, I'm happy to hear that you're hooked. Kungfuchick, I'm glad to see that you seemed to like my little twist. Mecano Grl, I'm glad you enjoy my spunky Ana. I think that was probably a big part of who she was even before she became a pirate. And you're right they probably didn't have espresso back then, but I've watched POTC too many times to count and that's just what I think of when I see Jack's eyes. Cal, what can I say? I am so floored that you take the time to leave me such great reviews. I'm glad you like the interaction between Jack and Ana and between Prescott and Ana. You're feedback never fails to make me smile, and it keeps me writing. So, please everyone leave a me a review and let me know what you think.