Title: Dragonfly
Author: Muse a.k.a. Viorith
Rating: R for sexual content and violence.
Pairing: Will/OFC, Jack/Anna-Maria
Feedback: Hell to the yeah!
Archive: Ask first please_
Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with PoTC, I'm just playing with them. I do own Sabine. So please ask if you want to play with her.
Summary: Sabine has loved Will since she was 16, but since his eyes were for Elizabeth only, she settled for his friendship. A year after the curse is lifted, Sabine now needs him to teach her the way of the blade so she can avenge her father's death on a man that once called himself his friend.
Author's note: Hey y'all! Just wanted to apologize for the loooong wait that has been between this and the last chapter. Things are really starting to pick up in my outside life, so I have to try to balance my writing tasks a bit better. I promise not to make it three weeks again… or at lease I endeavor to try not to make it that long. At any rate, thanks for putting up with me and I hope you continue to enjoy the story as much as I continue to enjoy your suggestions and encouragements!!
Chapter 13
Will had only drifted off to sleep for a few minutes before the scream yanked him back to consciousness. It tore through the cabin, slamming against the walls and ringing in his ears, followed by a desperate cry from Sabine for her father. The candles and flames had long been extinguished, leaving the room bathed only in the dim light that eked through the window from the moon and stars. In the near darkness, he found her in bed, sitting up and shaking from the nightmare that woke them both. Tears poured from Sabine's eyes, as sobs shook her body to the core. The image of her father's lifeless and bloodied body, burned into her retinas.
"Shh," he hushed. Her face pressed against his naked chest, his hands stroking her hair and body as he slowly rocked her. "It's okay, you're okay," he assured urgently.
Despite his comforting words, she continued to cry, sobbing so hard it felt like pieces of herself were being wept onto him. Her desire to be strong and her anger towards the blacksmith were forgotten as she clung to him. She had failed her father. She had been given instructions on what to do for his safe return and she hadn't obeyed them. And her father paid for her mistake with his life.
Sabine continued to cry until the water in her eyes ran dry leaving her with dry sobs that slowly quieted. Only then did Will shift his position, resting his back against the headboard of the bed while keeping his friend securely in his arms. He began to hum softly, his right hand stroking her hair back so his lips could lay a gentle kiss upon her forehead.
"What was that?" he questioned upon hearing her speak something soft.
"I said it was my fault," Sabine repeated and pulled away to sit up. "I killed my father. As surely as if I had pulled the trigger myself I killed my father."
"No," he replied firmly, seizing her arms and giving her a shake, "Dante Jacinto murdered your father."
"He was merely the instrument, I was the cause. I broke his rule. He told me what would happen if I didn't bring the map. He told me what would happen if I didn't come alone. He--"
"--No," Will interrupted with a forceful authority to his voice, "His mind was already set to kill him, had you gone alone he would have killed you, or worse. What if he had chosen to take you with him? Can you imagine what would happen if you were with him now? If you are with him when he finds out the map you gave was a fake?" His hands traded the vice grip on her arm and tenderly cupped her cheeks. "You think you've suffered at Jack's hands, but Jacinto¼"
He pulled her to him again; his arms squeezed her tight as he tried to avoid the images in his mind. She would have been a slave, but not one of labor as Jack attempted to make her, but one for the pleasures of Jacinto's crew. She would become their whore, and although her body may survive the abuse, her mind would surely snap from the strain. And the anger he held for himself at the taking of her virginity would have been miniscule compared to the rage he would have felt at the murder of her beautiful mind.
As he held her, as she quieted down once more in his arms, his mind drifted to the last conversation he had with her father. It had seemed unlikely than that the request Diego made would ever amount to anything more than a promise of convinces between a father and a young man, but each day that passed pushed Will to think about the vow he made more than the morning before.
FIVE MONTHS AGO¼
"She really is amazing," Will marveled flipping through the paintings Sabine had completed and stored in her father's study.
He continued to look through them, only pausing when one in particular caught his eye. He had been there when she painted it, just over a year ago as they enjoyed a picnic overlooking Cedar's Bluff. He remembered he had never seen a more beautiful sunset, and somehow she had managed to catch the brilliance of it perfectly.
"Are you sure she won't mind me taking one?" he questioned pulling it out from the others.
"I don't think it is in my daughter to mind anything you do," Diego replied with a knowing smile as he watched the young man that grew more like a son with each passing season.
Will raised an eyebrow and turned to face the man, "She wasn't exactly pleased with me a few years ago."
"Ah, you still have much to learn about woman, lad. For example, you must learn what to tell, and what to keep from them, or you will spend the rest of your life atoning."
With a soft smirk, the young blacksmith nodded and took the chair across from the desk as Diego gestured to it.
"William¼," Diego took in a deep breath. He had thought of the best way to phrase his words, but with the young man sitting across from him, it felt different than it had when he rehearsed it alone. "As you know, my ship leaves for Spain in two days time."
Will gave a knowing grin as he settled back into the chair. "And you would like me to keep an eye on Sabine while you are gone? Diego you know you don't have to ask this anymore."
"Ordinarily I would agree, but there is something else I need from you now. I need you to promise, should anything happen to me, that you will take charge of my little girl."
"Sabine hardly needs anything to take care of her," Will protested.
"She is free spirited, that is true, but she is still a woman. A black woman in a community that condones slavery; I will not have my daughter condemned to the same hell I pulled her mother from."
"Sabine has her own mind, she will not listen to me."
"As her friend, no. As her husband¼" he left the sentence unfinished, letting the meaning of his words seep into the young man's mind. "She thinks she can take care of herself, but we know better. This world is designed to rape a woman of everything she has if there is no one there to look out for her."
"Have you discussed this with her?"
He chuckled softly at that, "Of course not. You know what she would say to that. She would tell me I was being old fashion, and how arranged marriages are from the old country. Then she would tell me how it is she that takes care of me," Will joined in the older man's smile knowing his words rang true. "But she is still my little girl, even if she is a grown woman. It is my duty, my right, and my privileges to protect her."
"And if she refuses my proposal?"
Another knowing smile flashed across the merchant's face as he studied the man before him. "Sabine is right, you are daft about woman. Trust when I say, she would not refuse you. Do we have an accord?"
Will hesitated his eyes studying the man on the other side of the desk and the offered hand. He had never considered himself the type to suffer from an arranged marriage. Sabine had a temper, but in all she was a good woman, and his best friend. He had only seen himself wedded to Elizabeth; with her marriage to Norrington looming in the future, that was a dream that could never come to fruition. If he couldn't marry the woman he was in love with, perhaps marriage to a woman he loved was the next best thing.
He reached across the desk and slipped his hand into the offered one. "We have an accord."
PRESENT...
"I miss him so much," Sabine confessed in a hushed voice.
The steady beat of Will's heart, combined with the easy rise and fall of his chest, and the skillful strokes of his hands began to lull her back into the arms of sleep. Her own fingers reached up to caress the pendant around her neck, fondling the dragonfly against her chest.
"At least they are together again," she added in the silence. "Him and Mama."
Caught by the movement of her fingers, Will's eyes locked onto the charm. "Did you get that in Tortuga?" he questioned, knowing he hadn't seen it before they reached the island.
"It was a gift from Papa to Mama, then from Papa to me when I was a child."
"I've never seen it before."
"I never wore it. It's the only thing of my mother's that I have left. I was afraid I would lose it."
Her hand moved from the necklace to rest on his chest, her fingers lightly tapping against him. As if his chest were her harpsichord, she played her father's favorite song, humming softly along.
"Sabine?" Will questioned softly after her humming died away. "Before he left, your father..." he paused debating if it was his place, or wise to repeat what had been agreed upon between her father and him in private. "If I asked you to marry me, what would you say?"
"I beg your pardon?" Sabine sat up, doing her best to meet his eyes in the darkness.
Will gave a quick shake of his head that was accompanied by a nervous laughter. "Before he left this last time, your father made a request of me."
"And that was?"
"He wanted me to marry you," he answered apologetically. "He wanted to make sure there would always be someone there to take care of you."
"I don't need anyone to take care of me."
The smile that crossed the blacksmith's face was genuine as he agreed, "That's what I told him, but you know your father."
"Yes," she answered and moved to the other side of the bed, "Papa ca– could be very persuasive."
"He made me promise but..."
"But what?"
He shrugged lightly, "You weren't in the mind for a proposal after he died."
"And after that?" she questioned turning away from him and curling into a ball.
Will gave a quick raise of his eyebrows and settled down onto the bed. He too lay on his side, but facing her. One hand raised, hovering to touch her. He wanted to stroke her skin, her hair, anything so long as it was attached to her body. His eyes tracked the curves of her waist and hips; his own body reacting to what his eyes coveted.
For the first time he wondered what it had been like between them that night. She had told him he hadn't forced himself on her, but he wondered if he brought her pleasure. He wondered what her body felt like under his, what her breasts felt like in his hands. He wondered what it felt like to be inside her.
"After that it just didn't seem like the right thing to do," he paused and waited for a response, but was met by silence. "Sabine?" he sat up, studying the outline of her body in the night, listening to the steadiness of her breathing. "Sabine?"
At least two minutes had passed before Will settled back down onto the bed, his head pillowed on his arm as he watched her sleep, or so he thought. He had raised up a bit more; had he moved to her side of the bed, he would have seen the silent tears leaking from her eyes.
~~~
The second time Sabine woke was to the sound of canons blasting, the voice of men shouting, and the sound of their shoes as the hurried above her. Alone in the room, she threw on her pants and shirt as quickly as possible, steadying herself as the ship suddenly lunged to the side as a volley of canon balls left the port guns. She snatched up her sword before flying from the room and running down the corridor to the ladder. Halfway up an enemy canon ball ripped through the upper hull. The Pearl heaved to, and Sabine's foot slipped from the rung. Her hands barely catching on to keep her from plummeting back down.
By the time she made it to the upper deck it looked to be in complete chaos. Men were loading and firing the canons above as well as below, and again the ship heaved violently as all guns were fired. Smoke was thick enough to choke her throat and sting her eyes, the sound of the guns and the shouting was deafening, and in the middle of it all stood Captain Jack Sparrow looking completely in his element.
The grin on his face was unwavering, as if held there by fasteners, even as he barked orders to his crew. It was obvious what Sabine simply thought was chaos was anything but to the infamous Captain.
"Load the chain shots and take out the mast!" Jack barked and a fellow crewmate scurried down the hole Sabine had just climbed from.
Sabine clung to a rigging line and stared about the deck not sure what to do. Her head told her to take action and make herself useful, but fear had a tight grip around her heart. To her left a ship, larger than The Pearl sat in the water a stone's throw away. It's deck just as dark and smoky as theirs. She saw the smoke puff from their canon ports and heard the screeching whine of the canons that approached, but it didn't occur to her to duck until she was brought down from behind.
"Mind your head before you lose it!" Anna-Marie ordered, before standing, then offering a helping hand to Sabine.
"What can I do?"
"Not get yourself killed for starters," she replied, then motioned for her to follow.
Sabine followed her to the stern of the ship where Jack commanded from the quarterdeck. Will stood near one of the rear guns. His face and shirt smeared with the black ash of the canon. He yelled fire, then came the familiar tremble of the ship as the canon spoke.
There was a whizzing noise and the young artist watched as several canon balls held together by a think chain spiraled out to the enemy ship. Most missed, flying harmlessly past the ship and into the water on the other side. One was dead on accurate. It torn through the main mast of the ship, and like the final stroke of a lumberjack's axe, the wood beam creaked, swayed, then toppled. Several sailors dove out of the way as the structure collapsed onto the deck of The Pearl.
"Boarding time," Jack announced with a devilish gleam in his eyes. If no one else was having fun, Jack Sparrow was having enough fun for the entire crew. These were the moments he lived for, the thrill that he could gain everything or lose his world within a matter of minutes. "Come young Sabine, this is what you've been training for," Jack
"She stays here," Will's voice rang out amidst the confusion and panic.
"What?" both Jack and Sabine echoed.
"She stays here. She's not ready."
"I'm ready," Sabine countered clenching her hand around her sword. "I've been practicing everyday, for three hours, for a month. How can you say I'm not ready?"
"Because you're not," Will repeated firmly.
"But…" one look at the young blacksmith silenced the protest bubbling in the Captain's throat. "Stay here with Mr. Cotton and the others to guard the ship, lass," he instructed with a quick pinch to her right cheek, "I promise they'll be others," he paused thinking for a moment, "Provided I don't get killed."
Sabine didn't need to say a word, the rage behind her eyes spoke volumes as Will turned to follow Jack into the fray. She was furious with him, but at that moment he didn't care. He failed in his mission to keep her out of harms way, but he wasn't about to give the okay for her to go charging to her death.
The smoke was thicker aboard the Lucille, but so was the panic and chaos. Sailors hurried to the ready to fight the invaders, but where it was evident The Lucille was a larger ship than The Pearl, it was equally evident that neither the crew, nor the Captain had the experience and leadership of the former ship.
Anthony Lake, Captain of Lucille, had come upon his query in the twilight hours of the morning when the sea was still asleep and shrouded in a foggy mist. Under the cover of this mist his attack had begun, catching the crew of The Pearl while they were napping, or so he thought. Lake had no way of knowing his ship had been spotted shadowing the Galley. Lucille had opened fired and was greeted by not the screams of a disorientated crew, but of their answering canons.
When it became apparent surprise wouldn't win the fight, Lake presumed brute strength would. But there was no bigger brute on the seas that Sparrow. He had commanded his ship to fire relentlessly into the side of his opponent, and now he commanded them to take the ship.
Will tried as best he could to close his senses to the macabre and carnage he tumbled into. This too had been what Will wanted to shield Sabine from. Already the deck was slick with blood and organs; bodies strewn that had become canon fodder.
Sword drawn, senses heighten he fought. The stream of men seemed never ending. As soon as one was maimed, wounded, or slain, another one or two cropped up to take their place.
The smoke created from the canon volley began to subside, only to be replaced by the smoke from pistols and rifles. The acidic smell of the powder, combined with the metallic stench of blood burned Will's nose. He thrusted forward and his sword slid into the man's belly like warm butter. He drew it out, tacky, warm blood covering the blade that was whirled up to deflect the blow aimed for his head.
He moved with the grace and ease of a master, turning simple slaughter to a grizzly ballet. He ducked another blow. His left hand closing around the hilt of a dropped sword, as he rose to employ a two-handed fighting style. He told himself it wasn't murder, it was his life or theirs. In the heat of the battle, it was an easy lie to believe.
Jack felled another man before he leapt to the quarterdeck, and came face to face with his attacker.
"Surrender?" Lake suggested.
"You mean you wish to surrender to me? Very well, I accept," Jack taunted.
"Don't be a fool," Lake spat as the two began to circle each other. "Or do you not be having enough sense to know when you're beat?"
Jack gave a grin in response. His hand moved like lightening as the tip of his sword tagged Lake's hand. "I always was a slow learner, mate."
"Then there's nothing left for us to be doing but dance… mate."
Lake lunged, slicing the air where Jack's head had been. His next attack was met by the blade side of Sparrow's sword before he found himself on the defensive.
The quarterdeck was theirs, and they used the span of it as the pirate Captains traded blows and perries, dodges and lunges. Lake's blade found Jack's hand, an answer for the earlier injury, but the victory was short lived as Sparrow's blade opened a deep gash in Lake's leg.
"Ha-ha," Jack yelled triumphantly, then tumbled down the steps to the deck, avoiding the throat slash Lake levied against him.
Individual fights and duels slowed and ceased as the Captains brought their dance to the main deck of the ship. Each crew member cheered and rooted for their own, and despite his best efforts to show no emotion, Turner sighed with relief when Jack's sword sunk deep into Lake's chest.
It wasn't long before one by one, the rest of the crew lowered their arms. The war had been won, but as Will cast his eyes to The Pearl, he knew the battle had just begun. He would rather face a hundred crew of Lucille alone than have to face the temper that would no doubt be unleashed upon his return.