Probably The First Chapter Proper
A/N: So, crappy cliffy at the end of the last chapter. This, for anyone who's interested, is my next chapter. The bit with the Negro isn't racism by the way it's the way people referred to black people back then. Read To Kill a Mockingbird if you don't believe me.
Disclaimer: Only Zane is mine. And if I did own the characters, half the people I know would have killed me and/or not be speaking to me...
At sea
ANAMARIA WAS taking late night watch again. She felt a hand on her shoulder and was dragged into a dark corner. Her assailant was wearing a hood and was completely anonymous. "Let go of me!" she struggled and stopped when she felt the knife against her throat. "Don't struggle, or I'll kill yez," she didn't recognise the voice either. "You're going to do something for me. I know your secret. I can make your life hell." "What secret?" As though she didn't already know "A moonlit night when the drink was flowing. Does it ring any bells?" "What do you want me to do?" she asked. She knew the answer before he said it.
A few weeks later
Jack's PoV
Anamaria had been acting funny for ages now. She was quiet, went about her duties silently. She stopped eating as well, too. She was like a wraith. But when he tried to speak to her, she would make an excuse and hurry off. Maybe the next shore leave in a few days would help.
Anamaria's PoV
She couldn't take it any more. Every night the man- she didn't know who he was because he always wore a mask- would make her come to him. If she didn't, he would tell the crew she was open to who ever wanted her, for free, and kill Jack. She didn't believe him, but didn't want to test her theory. She couldn't take much more of this though. Then it came to her. She knew exactly what she would have to do, however much it hurt Jack, however much it pained her.
At sea, after shore leave
Jack's PoV
Dearest Jack,
I cannot take it any more. I have to leave. If I don't, I fear I will go mad, or worse. For the past few months I have been under the most awful tyranny, and it will only harm you in the long run. I know now that the pirate life is no place for a woman. It was foolish to think that it was. Please move on, and remember me when you look at the moon.
Yours forever
Anamaria
P.S: Burn this after reading.
Jack dropped the letter on the desk. He reached round his neck and drew out a locket. Inside were a miniature of Anamaria and a lock of dark hair. He stroked the hair. The miniature was his own work. Something he'd never admit to, but he did a mean drawing when he wanted to. The lock of hair, cut whilst she slept. A single shining tear fell on the page, smudging he ink. He wiped his eyes fiercely and sniffed. "Oh god Annie, what have you bloody done? Where have you gone?"
He knew one thing. He had to find her. He had to. He just had to. But first... he reached for the candle and held the letter to the flame, and as the letter shrivelled and Anamaria's bold script was scorched away, it was like part of Jack shrivelled. A part he would miss more than he know how.
About an hour later
"But Jack, what about the Code? Anamaria made her own choice, same as anyone else!" Gibbs couldn't understand. Why would they go after a runaway? Jack closed the door to the captain's room and then spoke very low. "Anamaria was being threatened. I don't allow blackmail on my ship. Anamaria is gone, but the blackmailer isn't. We need to get this worm before it poisons anyone else." Gibbs fiddled with his flask. He would miss Anamaria too. The feisty girl had been a good friend and the only drinking companion he would trust not to rob him as he lay. "All right. But how are we supposed to find her? The world is a big place Jack, and there are many places for a young girl to hide. Especially one as pretty as Anamaria." "No, I know where she'll have gone. Set a new curse Mr. Gibbs, to Cuba,"
A few days later
"Blow the whistle Mr. Gibbs," Jack looked over the ship. A merchant ship, because slave ships tended to be more streamlined. Jack avoided the slave ships as much as possible. Everyone on them tended to be sick or dying. Very depressing. Jack sighed and shouted "Cannons! Fire at will!" There were the usual huge explosion, silence as everyone picked themselves back up, and then the cheers and curses of the pirates as they reloaded. Jack ducked as a cannon ball whistled towards him and then swung himself down to the fight below. He used the body of a dead man to get higher. The men they were fighting were from the Navy. That only happened if the cargo was overly precious. Jack grinned at the thought and swung round to face the man behind him "Ah, Commodore. How nice to see you again," he parried the blow. "Let's say you tell me what your guarding, and then I won't have to do all that nasty killing you." Commodore James Norrington scowled. "I'd rather die than tell you!" "Really?" Jack's face stayed straight, but a twitch of the lips betrayed him. "Would it really hurt that much?" "No..." Norrington thought for a moment "You didn't think that through, did you?" Jack sighed, and side stepped Norrington's sword. Then, just as easily, he knocked the Commodore's hat off and pulled out his gun. "Now, are you going to surrender, or do I have to blow you back to Port Royal?" all humour was gone now. This threw Norrington off guard.
Norrington's PoV
James suddenly found himself looking down the barrel of a gun. He heard the bullet click into place and swallowed. The voice that told him to surrender wasn't Jack Sparrow. Last time he had met him he had got the impression of a very clever mind hidden behind a layer of idiot. Made meeting the clever part all the more disconcerting. This wasn't even the clever part. This was a part that would kill him, and then use his jacket to wipe the blood off. At least the Sparrow he knew would at least make sure he had a decent burial. This one would just throw you over the side and not even feel sorry for you. He shivered and swallowed again. What had happened to Sparrow that would turn him like this?
"Norrington. Answer man." Jack could see the cogwheels working. The Commodore's eyes rolled round. His men were taking heavy losses. "Surrender damn you, surrender." Norrington dropped the sword. Jack smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "We'll take yer valuables and the services of yer sawbones then Commodore,"
A few hours later
Jack watched Gibbs share out the plunder distantly. The Commodore. Never thought he'd see that particular tight arsed bastard again. Good bloke though. Had managed to persuade him to take the letter to Will. Nice to find out how he was doing. Last time he'd heard he was thinking about expanding, taking on extra apprentices. Mind you, meeting the Commodore probably meant that they were near Cuba. Good thing too. He sighed and made for his cabin.
Inside he sat down and opened the locket, and spent a while looking at the miniature. That was the Anamaria he had fallen in love in. She'd never taken any shit off anyone. What had changed? He wished he knew. "I'll find out though Annie. I promise I will." He kissed the miniature and reached for the bottom drawer of his desk. His searching fingers found a glass bottle. The liquid washed round the bottle. He poured a cup of the amber liquid, ignoring the sign that said 'In moderashun'. He gasped as it burnt down his throat and wiped his streaming eyes.
Gibb's PoV
The captain wasn't his usual self. Anyone could see that. It was no secret they were going to find out who the blackmailer was. Didn't mean anyone liked it though. However, noone was overly bothered, as Jack was sorting it out.For them it was more an excuse to go and get drunk. They had a good haul, as the waters round Cuba were rich with cargo ships. However, Jack wasn't dealing with them like he used to. Now there was no mercy, no empathy. It was only the fact that Gibb's would remind him that the other crew needed food that they gave any at all. Not that Gibb's didn't know what was going on. He had known Jack Sparrow for years, and then some. Just because he was a drunk, didn't mean that he couldn't see further than the end of a bottle. Jack did love that girl, would probably die for her. Probably would. Idiot. Gibb's wasn't letting on about Jack and Anamaria though. Jack was having enough problems as it was.
Jack sat at his desk, head on the table. Tears that had nothing to do with the drink pooled on the table. The bottle was almost empty.
A few hours later
Gibb's knocked on the door and came in. Jack was at his desk, an empty bottle beside him. Gibb's simply turned Jack's head so he wouldn't die, and went out again, closing the door quietly.
At Cuba
Jack had five days to find Anamaria now. The last two had been spent n the same way, rushing along the little fishermen's huts. He sunk down at the wall and went over what Anamaria had said, all that time ago.
"My dad was a fisherman. That's where I got my taste for the sea. I suppose if I ever had to give up being a pirate, I would go back. To Haradad in Cuba. Back to my dad's old hut on the seafront, to take over."
He was in Haradad. He was on the sea front. He wracked his brain.
"My dad had a little Christian Fish painted on his door in black. His name was Christan and he was Negro see? He used to laugh about it. Everyone knew Christan's Fish."
He looked up. In front of him was a door. It had a black fish on it. He rapped on the door. An old man opened it "Yes?" "Is Anamaria here?" The old man squinted "Who are you?" "I'm Smith. John Smith." Jack invented wildly. "Well, Mr. Smith, what do you want with my little girl?" "Well, sir, I need to talk to her. Is she still looking for a boat?" "Yes Mr. Smith, I believe she is," "Oh call me John, do," Jack told him "Where is she?" "She's in her own house, up the road. I aint seen her though, for a while. Do you know where she is?" "No sir," Jack was now anxious to get away. He wanted to tell Anamaria so much. "I hope to find her though," "Well, tell her to come along of me when you're done. I need her help," "Thank you for your time," Jack tipped his hat politely and moved on.
At the door to Anamaria's house he took a deep breath and opened the door when no one answered his knock. Then he took a step back and choked back the bile in his throat. "Annie..." he whispered...
A/N: Oh my god! What's in the door? Will it all end happily for this scallywag? Will he ever tell Anamaria he loves her? Will they get together? Well, tune in next time to find out.
A/N: So, crappy cliffy at the end of the last chapter. This, for anyone who's interested, is my next chapter. The bit with the Negro isn't racism by the way it's the way people referred to black people back then. Read To Kill a Mockingbird if you don't believe me.
Disclaimer: Only Zane is mine. And if I did own the characters, half the people I know would have killed me and/or not be speaking to me...
At sea
ANAMARIA WAS taking late night watch again. She felt a hand on her shoulder and was dragged into a dark corner. Her assailant was wearing a hood and was completely anonymous. "Let go of me!" she struggled and stopped when she felt the knife against her throat. "Don't struggle, or I'll kill yez," she didn't recognise the voice either. "You're going to do something for me. I know your secret. I can make your life hell." "What secret?" As though she didn't already know "A moonlit night when the drink was flowing. Does it ring any bells?" "What do you want me to do?" she asked. She knew the answer before he said it.
A few weeks later
Jack's PoV
Anamaria had been acting funny for ages now. She was quiet, went about her duties silently. She stopped eating as well, too. She was like a wraith. But when he tried to speak to her, she would make an excuse and hurry off. Maybe the next shore leave in a few days would help.
Anamaria's PoV
She couldn't take it any more. Every night the man- she didn't know who he was because he always wore a mask- would make her come to him. If she didn't, he would tell the crew she was open to who ever wanted her, for free, and kill Jack. She didn't believe him, but didn't want to test her theory. She couldn't take much more of this though. Then it came to her. She knew exactly what she would have to do, however much it hurt Jack, however much it pained her.
At sea, after shore leave
Jack's PoV
Dearest Jack,
I cannot take it any more. I have to leave. If I don't, I fear I will go mad, or worse. For the past few months I have been under the most awful tyranny, and it will only harm you in the long run. I know now that the pirate life is no place for a woman. It was foolish to think that it was. Please move on, and remember me when you look at the moon.
Yours forever
Anamaria
P.S: Burn this after reading.
Jack dropped the letter on the desk. He reached round his neck and drew out a locket. Inside were a miniature of Anamaria and a lock of dark hair. He stroked the hair. The miniature was his own work. Something he'd never admit to, but he did a mean drawing when he wanted to. The lock of hair, cut whilst she slept. A single shining tear fell on the page, smudging he ink. He wiped his eyes fiercely and sniffed. "Oh god Annie, what have you bloody done? Where have you gone?"
He knew one thing. He had to find her. He had to. He just had to. But first... he reached for the candle and held the letter to the flame, and as the letter shrivelled and Anamaria's bold script was scorched away, it was like part of Jack shrivelled. A part he would miss more than he know how.
About an hour later
"But Jack, what about the Code? Anamaria made her own choice, same as anyone else!" Gibbs couldn't understand. Why would they go after a runaway? Jack closed the door to the captain's room and then spoke very low. "Anamaria was being threatened. I don't allow blackmail on my ship. Anamaria is gone, but the blackmailer isn't. We need to get this worm before it poisons anyone else." Gibbs fiddled with his flask. He would miss Anamaria too. The feisty girl had been a good friend and the only drinking companion he would trust not to rob him as he lay. "All right. But how are we supposed to find her? The world is a big place Jack, and there are many places for a young girl to hide. Especially one as pretty as Anamaria." "No, I know where she'll have gone. Set a new curse Mr. Gibbs, to Cuba,"
A few days later
"Blow the whistle Mr. Gibbs," Jack looked over the ship. A merchant ship, because slave ships tended to be more streamlined. Jack avoided the slave ships as much as possible. Everyone on them tended to be sick or dying. Very depressing. Jack sighed and shouted "Cannons! Fire at will!" There were the usual huge explosion, silence as everyone picked themselves back up, and then the cheers and curses of the pirates as they reloaded. Jack ducked as a cannon ball whistled towards him and then swung himself down to the fight below. He used the body of a dead man to get higher. The men they were fighting were from the Navy. That only happened if the cargo was overly precious. Jack grinned at the thought and swung round to face the man behind him "Ah, Commodore. How nice to see you again," he parried the blow. "Let's say you tell me what your guarding, and then I won't have to do all that nasty killing you." Commodore James Norrington scowled. "I'd rather die than tell you!" "Really?" Jack's face stayed straight, but a twitch of the lips betrayed him. "Would it really hurt that much?" "No..." Norrington thought for a moment "You didn't think that through, did you?" Jack sighed, and side stepped Norrington's sword. Then, just as easily, he knocked the Commodore's hat off and pulled out his gun. "Now, are you going to surrender, or do I have to blow you back to Port Royal?" all humour was gone now. This threw Norrington off guard.
Norrington's PoV
James suddenly found himself looking down the barrel of a gun. He heard the bullet click into place and swallowed. The voice that told him to surrender wasn't Jack Sparrow. Last time he had met him he had got the impression of a very clever mind hidden behind a layer of idiot. Made meeting the clever part all the more disconcerting. This wasn't even the clever part. This was a part that would kill him, and then use his jacket to wipe the blood off. At least the Sparrow he knew would at least make sure he had a decent burial. This one would just throw you over the side and not even feel sorry for you. He shivered and swallowed again. What had happened to Sparrow that would turn him like this?
"Norrington. Answer man." Jack could see the cogwheels working. The Commodore's eyes rolled round. His men were taking heavy losses. "Surrender damn you, surrender." Norrington dropped the sword. Jack smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "We'll take yer valuables and the services of yer sawbones then Commodore,"
A few hours later
Jack watched Gibbs share out the plunder distantly. The Commodore. Never thought he'd see that particular tight arsed bastard again. Good bloke though. Had managed to persuade him to take the letter to Will. Nice to find out how he was doing. Last time he'd heard he was thinking about expanding, taking on extra apprentices. Mind you, meeting the Commodore probably meant that they were near Cuba. Good thing too. He sighed and made for his cabin.
Inside he sat down and opened the locket, and spent a while looking at the miniature. That was the Anamaria he had fallen in love in. She'd never taken any shit off anyone. What had changed? He wished he knew. "I'll find out though Annie. I promise I will." He kissed the miniature and reached for the bottom drawer of his desk. His searching fingers found a glass bottle. The liquid washed round the bottle. He poured a cup of the amber liquid, ignoring the sign that said 'In moderashun'. He gasped as it burnt down his throat and wiped his streaming eyes.
Gibb's PoV
The captain wasn't his usual self. Anyone could see that. It was no secret they were going to find out who the blackmailer was. Didn't mean anyone liked it though. However, noone was overly bothered, as Jack was sorting it out.For them it was more an excuse to go and get drunk. They had a good haul, as the waters round Cuba were rich with cargo ships. However, Jack wasn't dealing with them like he used to. Now there was no mercy, no empathy. It was only the fact that Gibb's would remind him that the other crew needed food that they gave any at all. Not that Gibb's didn't know what was going on. He had known Jack Sparrow for years, and then some. Just because he was a drunk, didn't mean that he couldn't see further than the end of a bottle. Jack did love that girl, would probably die for her. Probably would. Idiot. Gibb's wasn't letting on about Jack and Anamaria though. Jack was having enough problems as it was.
Jack sat at his desk, head on the table. Tears that had nothing to do with the drink pooled on the table. The bottle was almost empty.
A few hours later
Gibb's knocked on the door and came in. Jack was at his desk, an empty bottle beside him. Gibb's simply turned Jack's head so he wouldn't die, and went out again, closing the door quietly.
At Cuba
Jack had five days to find Anamaria now. The last two had been spent n the same way, rushing along the little fishermen's huts. He sunk down at the wall and went over what Anamaria had said, all that time ago.
"My dad was a fisherman. That's where I got my taste for the sea. I suppose if I ever had to give up being a pirate, I would go back. To Haradad in Cuba. Back to my dad's old hut on the seafront, to take over."
He was in Haradad. He was on the sea front. He wracked his brain.
"My dad had a little Christian Fish painted on his door in black. His name was Christan and he was Negro see? He used to laugh about it. Everyone knew Christan's Fish."
He looked up. In front of him was a door. It had a black fish on it. He rapped on the door. An old man opened it "Yes?" "Is Anamaria here?" The old man squinted "Who are you?" "I'm Smith. John Smith." Jack invented wildly. "Well, Mr. Smith, what do you want with my little girl?" "Well, sir, I need to talk to her. Is she still looking for a boat?" "Yes Mr. Smith, I believe she is," "Oh call me John, do," Jack told him "Where is she?" "She's in her own house, up the road. I aint seen her though, for a while. Do you know where she is?" "No sir," Jack was now anxious to get away. He wanted to tell Anamaria so much. "I hope to find her though," "Well, tell her to come along of me when you're done. I need her help," "Thank you for your time," Jack tipped his hat politely and moved on.
At the door to Anamaria's house he took a deep breath and opened the door when no one answered his knock. Then he took a step back and choked back the bile in his throat. "Annie..." he whispered...
A/N: Oh my god! What's in the door? Will it all end happily for this scallywag? Will he ever tell Anamaria he loves her? Will they get together? Well, tune in next time to find out.