AN: Okay, does anyone else wonder if Jack would have actually shot Will if Brown hadn't cracked him over the head with the bottle? It's just one of those what if questions that will never be answered. Anyway, here's the next chapter and I hope you all like it! If not, well, I know you'll like the next one! That's when it gets really interesting!
"I see your face with every punch I take, / and every bone I break, it's all for you/ and my worst pains are words I cannot say, / still I will always fight on for you."
Yellowcard; Gifts and Curses
Silver and Gold
Chapter Fifteen: Visitations
Lor knelt down on the dusty ground, her skirts settling down around her legs. It had been three days. Three long days since Mason had arrested Jack. She had only now had a chance to go and visit him.
Now, she knelt in front of his cell, her hands resting primly in her lap. Jack, his eyes closed, leaned against the far wall, his legs spread out in front of him, his shackled hands resting lightly against his abdomen. His eyes were closed so Lor was unsure whether he was sleeping, or merely ignoring her. She figured it was the latter.
"Jack?" she called quietly. "Jack, I don't have much time."
After several moments, Jack opened his eyes slowly. One of his eyes was slightly swollen, having been injured in his fight against the officers that arrested him. She had never seen him like this. He was too calm. It was as if he'd given up, finally flown that white flag that he had never used.
Lor stretched out her arm through the bars, holding her hand out to him. Her eyes called to him, the gold orbs beckoning to him. Jack crawled over to her, hands only able to go short distances away from each other. He stopped right next to the cell bars, his eyes looking deeply into hers.
"Jack . . ." she started, but was cut off as Jack snaked his arms through the bars and around her neck, as best as he could with the shackles around his wrists, pulling her face to his in a rough kiss. Lor returned the kiss eagerly, putting into it all of her pent up frustration.
"I know what yer gonna try an' do, love," he whispered when he pulled away. "Don't."
"What're ya talkin' about?"
"Don't try an' break me out, I c'n do jus' fine on me own."
"Jack, you'll need help . . ."
"Lor . . ."
"You can't do it by yerself. This place is a lot different than Port Royal; it's a lot more guarded."
"I've gotten outta worse, love, ya know. The whole cleric thing," he replied, his trademark smirk crossing his lips.
Lor shook her head. "I fail to see the humor in this. All I see is you in prison and about to be hung."
"Don' know what yer so worried about."
"Maybe that yer about ta be hung, ya idiot."
Jack smirked again, his fingers tracing over her face, resting for a moment over her lips. "Too bad we can't 'ave the night again," his eyes roamed over her, taking in her curves.
Lor raised an eyebrow, watching as he obviously undressed her with his eyes. She rolled her eyes. A door opening above them caused her to look away from him. "We will have the night again, Jack," she whispered, breaking free of his arms and standing up quickly, dusting herself off. "I promise you."
Before he could reply, she turned away from him and climbed up the stairs slowly, her eyes staring sightlessly down at the stone steps.
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Tyler waited patiently in the large room. He gazed out of the large picture window, his eyes staring blankly at the marble statues standing in the garden. He had come here in hopes that she would listen to him. In hopes that she would forgive him.
"Mr. Adams."
Tyler turned around quickly, his heart speeding up. He wasn't sure why he felt that he needed her forgiveness. There was just something about her. Something that made his heart thump and his breath catch in his throat. He gave a slight smile, his eyes revealing his nervousness.
"Good afternoon, Miss Clarke. I was wondering if I could have a few moments of your time."
Sarah's eyes bore only coldness, her mouth set in a thin line. She nodded slightly, almost imperceptibly.
"We may talk in the garden," she said quietly, walking towards him and then opening the glass doors behind him.
Tyler followed her out into the green garden, roses of all different colors bloomed around them. Sarah stopped mid-way into the garden, a group of trees blocking his view of the house. She sat down silently on a stone bench, staring down at the soft grass underneath her feet.
Tyler stood quietly a few feet from her, his eyes gazing down at her soft blonde hair. He waited for her to speak, waited for her to say everything was all right. When she said nothing, did not even look at him, he cleared his throat.
Sarah's head snapped up as if she had forgotten he was standing there. "Yes, Mr. Adams?"
"I-uh-I wanted to apologize for the other night. I know we frightened you and I know that you must hate me now, but you must understand our situation."
Sarah's eyes narrowed. "Our situation, Mr. Adams? What do you mean by that?"
Tyler could feel his palms sweating. He had no idea how Lor could face off against someone. He was becoming too nervous and felt as if he would pass out. His heart pounded in his chest, his pulse spiking.
"I-I mean, Miss Clarke, the situation with my cousin. Lor is a brilliant woman. Most pirates you hear or read about are cutthroats, evil men who rape and pillage without a moments hesitation. But Lor is not like them, and neither is Captain Sparrow, at least for what I have seen," he said, sitting down quickly next to her on the bench, his body turned to hers.
"You merely ask for my silence to save your family's reputation," Sarah replied, standing up quickly, turning her back to him.
Tyler's hand shot out before she could walk away from him, his fingers wrapping around her wrist in a tight-fisted grip.
"No," he said, staring up into her eyes. "No. I am telling you this so that you will forgive me for lying to you, for keeping this from you when we had become such good friends."
"I cannot forgive such a betrayal, Mr. Adams, now let me go or I will scream."
"No, please, Miss Clarke, you must . . ."
"I 'must' nothing, Mr. Adams," Sarah answered, her eyes glaring daggers at him.
"No, Sarah," he began quietly and then pulled on her wrist, dragging her down to face him.
"Sarah," he whispered again, his free hand going around the back of her neck. He pulled her down quickly, his lips finding hers in the mid-day sun.
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The day was bright, the sun beating down on them. He kissed her skin lazily, resting his chin on her shoulder. The slow breeze tickled their flesh, sending goose bumps down their arms. His arms were wrapped around her waist, her hands clutching his. Her head was resting back on his chest, a smile playing over her lips.
She loved it here. The peaceful nature of the ocean, the snapping of the sails in the wind. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. Wait, where were the sails? She could feel the ship rocking under her feet . . . couldn't she?
Lor opened her eyes quickly, her head snapping up. This was wrong. There was no ship beneath her feet, no sails above her head, and Jack . . . Jack wasn't standing behind her. No, Jack was standing before her, a noose around his neck.
The man behind her laughed, a cruel, bone-chilling laugh. "Seems yer happy ever after's almost up, Adams. 'E's gonna be swingin' soon. Don't worry, girl, dyin' don' 'urt too much."
Lor pushed free quickly, turning around to face the man behind her. Skinner stood by her, his black shirt open to mid-chest. Scars littered his skin, a smirk gracing his face.
"Yer dead," Lor whispered, anger building in her body.
"Am I?"
"I killed you. Yer rottin' corpse is lyin' in a cave. Don't try an' play mind games wit' me."
"Who's playin' games?" he replied, reaching out and taking a strand of her hair and twirling it around his fingers. "It's yer dream love."
"I told you not to call me that," she seethed.
Skinner smirked again, his hand trailing down her skin to rest lightly on her abdomen. "Ya may've stopped me, lass," he said, his eyes narrowing angrily. "But they won't."
Lor drew back quickly, her eyes narrowing in confusion.
"Lor!" a voice screamed behind her. "Lor!"
She turned around, her eyes going to the struggling form of Jack. Her eyes widened as the floor dropped out from under him. "Lor! Wake up!"
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Lor's eyes shot open, her eyes adjusting slowly to the dark room. She was sitting in the window seat in her room, the window next to her open, a breeze blowing through it. Her chin rested in the palm of her hand, her elbow resting on her upraised knees.
She didn't remember falling asleep, didn't even remember opening the window. The dream, though, was all too vivid. She could still hear the sickening thud as the door fell open, letting Jack fall. She could still feel Skinner's fingers as he touched her, sending disgusted shivers down her spine.
And 'they'? Who were 'they'? Lor shook her head. It made no sense to her. All his words seemed to do was make her even more confused that she was before. But the one thing the dream did was to make her realize what she had to do.
She knew what she was going to have to do. She knew that she sure as hell wasn't going to let him hang.
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DON'T FORGET!!! The contest for the preview to the first chapter of the third story in the Sui Generis series is still going on! The submitted articles should be a poem or scene that includes Jack and Lor as the main characters. You should submit them via e-mail to PirateGyrl at The contest will continue until the end of Silver and Gold. The winner of this contest will receive the chapter via e-mail when SaG is complete. In the subject space, type "Lor/Jack contest" so I know what the e-mail is about. Remember, it's no fun if no one enters the contest! I hope you all participate!
Next: Chapter 16: Plans Portrayed. What's gonna happen? What will Lor do? How will she rescue him? What did the dream mean? Find out the answers to most of these questions in the next installment of Silver and Gold!
Dawnie-7: Yeah. Pulling his hair was kinda a last minute thing. I thought it was funny! And as for Lor doing something? You'll see next chapter!
DaydreamBeliever14: Thanks! There'll be more soon!
NazgulGirl: Thank you very much!
PineAppleLint: Thank you very much! Yeah, Mason does really need some arse kicking. And he will. Just not right now. In the next few chapters definitely! Especially since it's almost over!
Kate: Oh I so agree! He'd be my prisoner as well! That would be so cool!
The DuTchess of Doom: Wicked plot twists? blinks eyes innocently Me? Never! I'm glad you like it so far! I hope you like this chapter as well!