A/N: Hello again, my fine readers! Sorry for the delay, I hope you
understand that one can't just drop a bomb like that without taking some
time to collect herself and order her thoughts... Well, that and I wasn't
sure just how the hell I was gonna connect where I was to where I want to
be. I think I've got an idea now, so we'll see how it goes. Review
responses at the end of the chapter!
That's the problem with dreams and long-awaited conclusions; they never meet the dreamer's expectations. Ever. After the astounding revelation of my true name, I seem to be forgotten by Jack and Anamaria as they move on to business talk and things I can't quite hear through the haze of rage building up inside of me. The only indicator that I'm not invisible is the glances Jack's sightless eyes keep shooting in my direction. Then I'm being guided away by Anamaria, away from Jack and the hut, back across the dirty sand and out to the beach.
"What the hell was that?!" I splutter with indignation as Anamaria reloads the boat with Jack's waste, which mainly consisted of empty bottles. "He acted like I didn't exist! Does he treat all his illegitimate daughters this way, or am I just special?"
Anamaria rounds on me, her eyes angry, "Well ye' did just negate the smartest thing he ever did!" She stops and looks at me a moment, turning something over in her head. When she continues, her voice has calmed, "Ye' just don't understand, Guinn. Twas hard enough lettin' ya' go the first time, but then he knew he was doin' da' right thing. Now you've come back, everything he didn't want ya' to be and... I'll talk to him, alright? Don't know what good it'll do, if any, but I'll try."
"Thanks, Anamaria."
She walks over to the boat and sits between the oars, then looks up at me, "You comin'?"
I look at the little boat, then back across the water to the Red Osprey, and then at the stretch of white of the beach and the lush vegetation of the island. More boats are running back and forth between the Osprey and the island, but farther down the beach is fairly deserted. "I think I'll stay here a spell, Anamaria. Got some thinkin' ta' do."
She lets out a small laugh, "I'll bet you do. I'll return once I get ta' the ship, you can come back wid' me after I talk wid' Sparrow."
I help push the boat into the water, and then she is rowing away from me, out into the warm Caribbean water. I wander along the sand, half a mind to find my way back to the cabin and force Jack to acknowledge me, half a mind to swim back to the Osprey and start figuring out the quickest way back to Port Royal. Considering the impossibility of both options for one reason or another I continue to walk the line, the strip of white between the water and the land. I reach a piece of driftwood and sit down, trying not to focus on any one thing to think about. Amazing how one's troubles can seem so far off until they are right in front of your face. Then you can see how large they really are, and how they loom in front of you like a rock wall, impossible to move or overcome. My only hope now lies in a woman I hardly know, and that's no way to scale a wall.
But what am I hoping for, exactly? I don't know. The realization hits me like a shower of cold water. What was I hoping for in the beginning? Did it really have much of anything to do with Jack? Thinking back, I believe I was simply trying to get out of Port Royal, any way I could. Discovering my ties to Captain Jack Sparrow was the perfect excuse to abandon my home and family and throw myself headlong into unknown territory. Well, here I am, deep into not only unknown, but possibly *enemy* territory.
"Boss?" I turn to see Pete walking towards me. He stops and stares at me.
"What?" I say, but find to my surprise that my voice is choked with tears.
Lifting a hand to my face I quickly wipe the sneaky drops from my cheeks, but I know it's too late. Pete's already got that look on his face I prayed I'd never see since becoming Gawain. It's the look given to all crying girls, pity and confusion, and I hate it like I hate my stupid brain for getting me into such problems. Pete sits next to me on the log, and I curse vehemently inside because I know what's coming. He's going to try to comfort the crying girl, because that's how his mother raised him. But I don't want to be comforted. I don't want the warm, strong arm around my shoulder and the soothing nonsense-words whispered gently into my ear that are shrinking my anger as it grows inside, making it a hot, confused, little ball in my stomach. If things go on like this, I can never be the rough captain of this tiny, ship-less crew. That job will fall to a real man, maybe even Pete himself. I can't allow that. I stand up from the log, fists clenched and tears held tight inside, and boil the sea with my gaze.
"Just go, Pete," I grind out, "I don't need consolin', I just need ta' think."
He gets up, but of course he doesn't go. Why would he? Why would he listen to anything an obviously fragile girl would say? No, he actually steps closer to me, "Ye' don't have to do this thing alone is all. Yer not alone- I just wish you'd trust me for once, Guinevere. I been thinkin' since ye' told us who you truly are, an' I know now how much ya' keep to yerself, an' that I hardly even know you *at all*." My hand completely involuntarily grips his when it's placed in mine. It's horribly warm and comfortable, "But I'd like to, if ya' would let me."
I don't want to look up, *honestly*, but my eyes are drawn to his like a moth to a flame and I see their brutal sincerity and I can hardly breathe. I have to stop this now. "Trust me," I say, my voice barely above a harsh whisper, "You don't want to know."
Pete blinks and seems to exhale a breath he was holding. He steps back, I didn't realized how close we were, and drops my hand like I'm a corpse. "Right," he says as he stumbles backwards, away from me, "Well, I'll just be gettin' back ta' the ship, then. Boys don't know I'm gone an' all. You'll be back with the captain?" I nod, "Alright then." He turns and strides across the beach, breaking into a run to catch one of the crewmen's boats before they ship out. Looking out over the water I spot Anamaria on her return trip. I watch her close in on the beach, drag the boat out of the water, and stride into the island's interior. I make a decision and sprint inland as well, hoping I can find my way back to the Jack's hut.
A/N: Sorry to leave you all with a cliffhanger again, but I don't think I've got enough emotional gasoline left after Pete and Guinn's talk to get me through the next big conversation- Oops, hope I didn't give anything away. To the angels on my shoulder:
WrdPntr: Whoa, my spell check just suggested that I spelled Ardent extremely wrong when I typed your name. Anyways, you seriously think I wouldn't respond to such an amazingly nice review as yours? What do you think I am, a monster?? Well, I hoped you liked this chapter. You seem like you dig action to me, and I realize just this side of nothing happened this chapter. Be patient, and realize that that mermaid's ransom ain't gonna find itself!
Calex: I decided that besides mellifluous, my other favorite words are kvetch and craptacular. Glad you liked the chapter! Oh, and I'm not evil, I'm just creative. A fine line, I know, but what are you gonna do?
Autum: Hey, glad you liked the last chapter, bit of a twist there, huh? If you want twists you should check out the new chapter of "Quest of Wingchild". Just sayin'...
MeaghanM: Sorry, hon, gonna have to wait a bit for a Jack/Guinn talk. Keep reading, though, it's coming!
pippin the hobbit elf: Hee, isn't Pippin awesome, though? Particularly in "Return of the King", he got to *sing*!! Anyways, you asked a lot of questions that I just can't answer, I'm afraid, for one reason or another. Guess you'll just have to keep reading! Hope you get your laptop fixed soon, I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't log in on mine.
Fire Pixie: Hello, my friend, hello! Glad you liked the last chapter, hope you're not too bummed about this one. I'm sorry, but that's the way my muses work. Sadistic little bastards, ain't they? What can I say? They just don't like to see happy reunions where they would never take place. But to put you at ease at least some, I don't expect Jack/Guinn relations to stay as rigid as they are now. You see, I'm stalling, because I'm quite petrified of trying to write Jack Sparrow. That's what comes from reading much too much bad PotC fanfiction. Next chapter I'll be taking the plunge- oh, I can feel my stomach acid bubbling already...
Andraaia Taka-ichi: Newbie! That's some kinda name you got there. Few more a's than my spell check can handle. Keep reading, and I'll keep writing. Uh, wasabi!
That's the problem with dreams and long-awaited conclusions; they never meet the dreamer's expectations. Ever. After the astounding revelation of my true name, I seem to be forgotten by Jack and Anamaria as they move on to business talk and things I can't quite hear through the haze of rage building up inside of me. The only indicator that I'm not invisible is the glances Jack's sightless eyes keep shooting in my direction. Then I'm being guided away by Anamaria, away from Jack and the hut, back across the dirty sand and out to the beach.
"What the hell was that?!" I splutter with indignation as Anamaria reloads the boat with Jack's waste, which mainly consisted of empty bottles. "He acted like I didn't exist! Does he treat all his illegitimate daughters this way, or am I just special?"
Anamaria rounds on me, her eyes angry, "Well ye' did just negate the smartest thing he ever did!" She stops and looks at me a moment, turning something over in her head. When she continues, her voice has calmed, "Ye' just don't understand, Guinn. Twas hard enough lettin' ya' go the first time, but then he knew he was doin' da' right thing. Now you've come back, everything he didn't want ya' to be and... I'll talk to him, alright? Don't know what good it'll do, if any, but I'll try."
"Thanks, Anamaria."
She walks over to the boat and sits between the oars, then looks up at me, "You comin'?"
I look at the little boat, then back across the water to the Red Osprey, and then at the stretch of white of the beach and the lush vegetation of the island. More boats are running back and forth between the Osprey and the island, but farther down the beach is fairly deserted. "I think I'll stay here a spell, Anamaria. Got some thinkin' ta' do."
She lets out a small laugh, "I'll bet you do. I'll return once I get ta' the ship, you can come back wid' me after I talk wid' Sparrow."
I help push the boat into the water, and then she is rowing away from me, out into the warm Caribbean water. I wander along the sand, half a mind to find my way back to the cabin and force Jack to acknowledge me, half a mind to swim back to the Osprey and start figuring out the quickest way back to Port Royal. Considering the impossibility of both options for one reason or another I continue to walk the line, the strip of white between the water and the land. I reach a piece of driftwood and sit down, trying not to focus on any one thing to think about. Amazing how one's troubles can seem so far off until they are right in front of your face. Then you can see how large they really are, and how they loom in front of you like a rock wall, impossible to move or overcome. My only hope now lies in a woman I hardly know, and that's no way to scale a wall.
But what am I hoping for, exactly? I don't know. The realization hits me like a shower of cold water. What was I hoping for in the beginning? Did it really have much of anything to do with Jack? Thinking back, I believe I was simply trying to get out of Port Royal, any way I could. Discovering my ties to Captain Jack Sparrow was the perfect excuse to abandon my home and family and throw myself headlong into unknown territory. Well, here I am, deep into not only unknown, but possibly *enemy* territory.
"Boss?" I turn to see Pete walking towards me. He stops and stares at me.
"What?" I say, but find to my surprise that my voice is choked with tears.
Lifting a hand to my face I quickly wipe the sneaky drops from my cheeks, but I know it's too late. Pete's already got that look on his face I prayed I'd never see since becoming Gawain. It's the look given to all crying girls, pity and confusion, and I hate it like I hate my stupid brain for getting me into such problems. Pete sits next to me on the log, and I curse vehemently inside because I know what's coming. He's going to try to comfort the crying girl, because that's how his mother raised him. But I don't want to be comforted. I don't want the warm, strong arm around my shoulder and the soothing nonsense-words whispered gently into my ear that are shrinking my anger as it grows inside, making it a hot, confused, little ball in my stomach. If things go on like this, I can never be the rough captain of this tiny, ship-less crew. That job will fall to a real man, maybe even Pete himself. I can't allow that. I stand up from the log, fists clenched and tears held tight inside, and boil the sea with my gaze.
"Just go, Pete," I grind out, "I don't need consolin', I just need ta' think."
He gets up, but of course he doesn't go. Why would he? Why would he listen to anything an obviously fragile girl would say? No, he actually steps closer to me, "Ye' don't have to do this thing alone is all. Yer not alone- I just wish you'd trust me for once, Guinevere. I been thinkin' since ye' told us who you truly are, an' I know now how much ya' keep to yerself, an' that I hardly even know you *at all*." My hand completely involuntarily grips his when it's placed in mine. It's horribly warm and comfortable, "But I'd like to, if ya' would let me."
I don't want to look up, *honestly*, but my eyes are drawn to his like a moth to a flame and I see their brutal sincerity and I can hardly breathe. I have to stop this now. "Trust me," I say, my voice barely above a harsh whisper, "You don't want to know."
Pete blinks and seems to exhale a breath he was holding. He steps back, I didn't realized how close we were, and drops my hand like I'm a corpse. "Right," he says as he stumbles backwards, away from me, "Well, I'll just be gettin' back ta' the ship, then. Boys don't know I'm gone an' all. You'll be back with the captain?" I nod, "Alright then." He turns and strides across the beach, breaking into a run to catch one of the crewmen's boats before they ship out. Looking out over the water I spot Anamaria on her return trip. I watch her close in on the beach, drag the boat out of the water, and stride into the island's interior. I make a decision and sprint inland as well, hoping I can find my way back to the Jack's hut.
A/N: Sorry to leave you all with a cliffhanger again, but I don't think I've got enough emotional gasoline left after Pete and Guinn's talk to get me through the next big conversation- Oops, hope I didn't give anything away. To the angels on my shoulder:
WrdPntr: Whoa, my spell check just suggested that I spelled Ardent extremely wrong when I typed your name. Anyways, you seriously think I wouldn't respond to such an amazingly nice review as yours? What do you think I am, a monster?? Well, I hoped you liked this chapter. You seem like you dig action to me, and I realize just this side of nothing happened this chapter. Be patient, and realize that that mermaid's ransom ain't gonna find itself!
Calex: I decided that besides mellifluous, my other favorite words are kvetch and craptacular. Glad you liked the chapter! Oh, and I'm not evil, I'm just creative. A fine line, I know, but what are you gonna do?
Autum: Hey, glad you liked the last chapter, bit of a twist there, huh? If you want twists you should check out the new chapter of "Quest of Wingchild". Just sayin'...
MeaghanM: Sorry, hon, gonna have to wait a bit for a Jack/Guinn talk. Keep reading, though, it's coming!
pippin the hobbit elf: Hee, isn't Pippin awesome, though? Particularly in "Return of the King", he got to *sing*!! Anyways, you asked a lot of questions that I just can't answer, I'm afraid, for one reason or another. Guess you'll just have to keep reading! Hope you get your laptop fixed soon, I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't log in on mine.
Fire Pixie: Hello, my friend, hello! Glad you liked the last chapter, hope you're not too bummed about this one. I'm sorry, but that's the way my muses work. Sadistic little bastards, ain't they? What can I say? They just don't like to see happy reunions where they would never take place. But to put you at ease at least some, I don't expect Jack/Guinn relations to stay as rigid as they are now. You see, I'm stalling, because I'm quite petrified of trying to write Jack Sparrow. That's what comes from reading much too much bad PotC fanfiction. Next chapter I'll be taking the plunge- oh, I can feel my stomach acid bubbling already...
Andraaia Taka-ichi: Newbie! That's some kinda name you got there. Few more a's than my spell check can handle. Keep reading, and I'll keep writing. Uh, wasabi!