Title: Dragonfly
Author: Muse a.k.a. Viorith
Rating: R for sexual content and violence.
Pairing: Will/OFC, Jack/Anna Maria
Feedback: Yes
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.
A/N: "Words in italics inside quotations are spoken in Spanish."
Chapter 23
Sabine knelt on the grass by the banks of the river that passed through the back yard of her home. Sheltered from the sun by an array of trees, it had been her favorite place to go as a child for a dip in the cooling river on a hot summer day. As a young woman she would dream of meeting her lover on the banks while the town slept.
She arrived alone, but could feel his presence echo around her. She didn't need to look up to know he had taken a seat next to her.
"I'm so sorry Will, please forgive me," she pleaded as the first tear slipped from her eyes.
"My love, there is nothing to forgive."
Will's fingers played along her cheek, slowly raising her face to his. She didn't flinch when her eyes fell upon him. His once beautiful face a mask of burned and marred tissue.
"I did this to you."
"No," he insisted.
Will raised her hand, and cupped the palm to his cheek. He turned his cheek into it, as if marking his scent on her flesh. When he released her hand, when she pulled it away, the flesh on his cheek was healed.
"You have the ability to heal me," he whispered.
Sabine turned her body to face him, her fingers trembled as they raised to his face. She barely touched him at first, the tips of her fingers just breathed against his skin, but even that was enough to heal what the fire had destroyed. Eagerly she explored his face, everywhere she touched, his flesh reconstructed itself, until his face was the perfect creation it once had been.
The artist didn't stop there. She delve her fingers into his hair, touching the parts of his scalp melted by the flame. As her hands moved over, dark thick locks reclaimed their space.
She sat back to marvel at him, but the vision was soon obscured by the tears building in her eyes. "Will! I miss you so much!" she cried.
The blacksmith gathered her into his arms and pulled her into the warmth of his body. He didn't hush the sobs that shook her body, simply held her close and hummed softly. His hand stroked her hair and her back, his lips scattered occasional kisses against her head, and her rocked her gently until the crying eased.
With his right index finger under her chin, Will raised her face to his once more. His hand moved. His fingers spread out and slowly crawled upwards until her cheek rest in his palm.
"I will always be here for you, luv. Always." He promised.
His mouth claimed hers, softly moving back and forth until his tongue encouraged her lips to part. His arms circled her body again and crushed her breasts to his chest. He supported her weight as he lowered them to the ground. His tongue seduced her, exploring her mouth. It flicked against the roof and the sides. It teased her tongue, dancing against it, around it and finally tickling the sensitive tissue under it.
He pulled back, his rich brown eyes staring deep into hers. His thumb bringing comfort as it traced a circular pattern against her temple.
"I promise to love you forever," he whispered. "You will always be my Sabine."
He silenced any words that tried to escape her mouth with a tender kiss, then sat up so her head was pillowed on his lap.
"Rest now," he instructed. His fingers stroked her hair, and his voice began to hum.
Sabine woke to someone stroking her hair, and to soft humming. For a moment there was the glimmer of hope. The fantasy that the past two days had been the dream. That this was the dream and before she had been awake. But as her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the cell, all hope began to fade. Will was still dead, and she, along with Gezana and Elizabeth were still Jacinto's prisoners.
She tried to sit up, but the old woman stopped her, "Go back to sleep child. There is nothing you can do until we reach our destination."
Sabine sighed, her eyes focused on Elizabeth curled close to the back wall with Gezana's shawl pillowing her head. She strained in the dark trying to see if the Governor's daughter was awake, but the absence of light didn't cooperate.
"Elizabeth," she finally called her friend's name and received no answer.
"She is asleep, as you should be."
"I can't sleep," Sabine stated. Her second attempt to sit up met no resistance. "He haunts my dreams. I close my eyes and I see him. I can touch him and smell him and…" her words bleed off as she tried to keep the pressing tears at bay.
"You mustn't blame yourself. What happened to him is not your fault," Gezana assured, even though she knew her words would fall on deaf ears.
"It feels like my fault," she whispered, "He came to protect me. If I had stayed in Port Royal Will would still be alive."
"You can't be certain of that," she comforted.
Sabine sighed deeply, her bottom lip trembling as she lost the battle of tears. Gezana guided her back so her head again rest in her lap.
"I miss him so much."
"I know you do, child."
"He told me he loved me," she confessed. She spoke so softly the words sound like little more than a sigh. "He wanted me to go away with him. He wanted to show me London."
"And what do you want?"
"What I want doesn't matter any more. What I want the most I can never have."
Unable to keep them back any longer, tears finally rolled from her eyes and down her face. She kept the sobs silent, the only evidence she was crying was the occasional sniffle. Neither of the women knew Elizabeth was awake.
Sparrow watched as his men hauled the last box to the surface and deposited it on the rocky shore. The lake that hid the treasure turned out not to be as deep as Jack had feared, only going down a half a dozen meters before coming to rest on a sandy bottom. There were a dozen and a half trunks that held the gold, scattered across the sand as if they were dropped from above rather than placed. Each one took two men to bring to the surface.
It was all the scoundrel could do to keep from clapping his hands and jumping up and down. He hadn't been that excited over something since the Pearl fell back into his hands. He was rich… they all were. La Samara was rumored to have been bringing gold from the mines in Peru to the motherland of Spain. Jack had always believed the stories, but he doubted the actual amount as it seemed to grow each time it touched his ears again. Looking at the eighteen crates lined along the shore, he knew the stories hadn't been exaggerated, they were grossly understated.
Jack left his crew to gather the rest of the treasure on the shore, positive all would be accounted for. Even if they had the notion to take off, there was only one way off the island. Or so he thought.
The strong winds that had damaged his ship heading out from Aruba, had returned. Not a severe, but strong enough to delay him enough so that his arrival to the island was pushed back a day. Long enough for Norrington's ship, uninhibited by the winds to catch up.
"Captain! Sail ho!" his look out positioned at a tall peak cried out below.
Jack removed his telescope from the inner pocket of his jacket, and after climbing to the lookout's post, sighted down the glass. It was a ship, but not just any ship.
"It's a naval vessel," he muttered.
Sparrow had taken precautions for just about every circumstance that could imagined. The arrival of unwanted visitors had been one, but he never thought it would be a navy ship.
"So much the better," he thought out loud as a sinister smile spread his lips. The market price of a naval vessel was twice that of a merchant ship. "Make sure the Pearl is out of sight and inform the crew. Time to have a spot of fun," he added under his breath.
"It's got to be around here somewhere," Will stated climbing over the rocks to the cavern with the lake.
It was the same lake that had a large black 'X' over it. At least he hoped it was the right one. They were on the right side of the island, and he doubted there could be two large lakes, hidden in a cavern on one island.
"If this is the spot, where's Sparrow?" Norrington questioned.
"Right behind you mate," came the pirates voice. "I'd turn around slowly, mate, with your hands in the air."
Sparrow's men seemed to materialize from out of the rock, surrounding Edward and his crew. The pirate grinned as he stared down the barrel of his pistol to the man that once tried to stretch his neck.
"Oh how the tables have turned," Jack stated and continued to grin. "You're the last person I thought I would see here."
"Jack," Will called.
"Alright, second to last. You want to tell me what you're doing here?"
"Sabine's been taken," Will informed, "Along with Miss— Mrs. Norrington."
"Mrs. Norrington?"
"My wife, Elizabeth," Edward informed tersely. "Now will you lower your weapon."
Sparrow seemed to actually contemplate lowering his pistol, but in the end answered with a resounding, "No, I don't think I will, mate. Last time you and I were on the same island you tried to hang me if memory serves."
"Jack please—"
"—Mr. Turner, do let me handle this."
"Yes Mr. Turner, let the Commodore handle this," Jack agreed in good humor.
"I would like to… invite you, aboard my ship."
"So you can clap me in irons, I don't think so, mate. How about you and I return to the Pearl for one of your civilized conversations. Your lads will stay here, my lads will stay here, and if I'm not back in one hour. My lads will kill your lads. Savvy?"
"Understood," Norrington agreed.
Throwing his hate in with a pirate went against everything in Norrington, but he saw little choice. He had to get Elizabeth back, and he would be willing to do anything he had to, even if it meant selling his soul to the devil.
"In exchange for your help, and if the women are returned alive and unharmed, I will be willing to offer you a lessened sentence," Norrington concluded as he, Will and Jack reclined in the pirate's Captain room.
Sparrow looked at the Commodore, then turned his attention to the Blacksmith, before regarding Norrington again.
"Are you forgetting, mate, you're here asking for my help," he shifted his position propping his boots up on the desk. "You should be offering me more than a reduced sentence."
"What is it that you want, Mr. Sparrow?"
"What is it that you've got, and it's Captain Sparrow, if you'd please."
"Jack," Will interrupted, "Did you hear what he said. He's got Sabine. He'll kill her unless you help."
"That still doesn't seem to be much of my problem, Will."
Will narrowed his eyes. He'd seen Jack play this particular game before. Last time there had been a knife to his throat. It hadn't been fun then either. He couldn't get Sabine's face out of his mind. She had to be frightened, but knowing her she would die before showing it. He just prayed that she gave Jacinto no reason to harm her.
"Whatever you want, you will have," Norrington stated between clenched teeth.
"Whatever I want," Jack repeated with a grin. "I want your ship."
Norrington scoffed, "You must be joking."
"It's hardly an even trade, your ship for your wife. I will understand though if you need a moment to make your decision."
"Done," he agreed, "You help return Elizabeth—"
"—And Sabine," Will added quickly.
"And Ms. Arroyo safe and unharmed to us, and you may have my ship… when we return to Port Royal."
Jack considered the arrangement. He had no real desire to take the Commodore's ship, a fortunate thing since the odds of him getting it after Elizabeth's return, or once in Port Royal were slimmer than Cotton's parrot. He had known from the moment Will stated Sabine had been taken he would do what he must, but there was no need in letting Norrington know it was that simple.
Commodore Edward Norrington had come to expect things from Captain Jack Sparrow and he was more than obliged to deliver upon those expectations.
"We have an accord," he concluded and offered a hand.
This time, it was Norrington that hesitated, before shaking hands and sealing a deal with the devil himself.