Chapter: Severed Ties
For all the world I would have jumped off my horse and kissed the smile back onto his face. But he bowed, and stepped back to lean against the wall and watched the hunt and me ride out and away from him. He did not even call to me when he would see me again. He let me go.
-- The Other Boleyn Girl, Philippa Gregory
Sophia knew she had no right to be jealous. They were not involved in the way of spouses or even dedicated lovers. They both liked to believe that their relationship was strictly physical. She did not own Jack and she had no claim over his actions and decisions.
And yet she was envious. She was envious of the way Jack held onto the woman with easy strength and careless movements as if it was the simplest thing in the world. He was not checked, he did not keep his emotions hidden as he did with her. She knew he regarded the encounter with this woman, this whore, as nothing. As something normal and common. What Jack thought he had with Sophia was not normal to him, this she knew. He had to be careful.
Anger now flowed like magma through her, seductive and easy to trust. Anger was simple. But she would have to save her rage for later; Andrew was dead and the ship would be taken if she did not do something. She could not let her emotions bypass such danger.
Sophia's legs carried her over to him on their own account. "Jack," she said, unable to keep the spite from her voice.
Jack nearly dropped the nameless woman. By the uncharacteristic clumsiness of his movements, Sophia could safely judge that he was nearly past the coherent stage of drunkenness. His eyes wide, he turned around to look at her, his eyes failing to focus on her face. "Sophie? What're you doin' 'ere?" He asked, the alcohol in his system further pronouncing his slur.
"There are men on the ship trying to find the loot from Chamberlin Manor. Andrew is dead," Sophia deadpanned.
"What?"
"You heard me, Jack," she explained stonily.
Sophia was amazed to see a fair bit of sobriety appear on Jack's face. The man had an unusual skill of throwing off the effect of inhuman amounts of liquor in a situation that needed it.
"Right," he stated, more to himself than anyone. Now he did drop the whore in his arms, and she let out a squeal and scrambled to her feet, glaring daggers at Jack as he rallied his groaning men.
Sophia ignored the crew as they rushed to get out and back to the falling ship, but did noticed the way they had all tensed like hounds scenting a fox when Jack broke the news, ready to defend their home, the ship, ready to go into battle with lucid minds, despite their drinking. Instead of following, she fixed the woman, a complete stranger, with a frighteningly calm stare, cold and calculating.
This woman had cost her Jack, cost her happiness. She would not welcome the captain into her bed again.
Despite her repulsive profession, she was a pretty girl, and Sophia guessed that she was much younger than her, seventeen at the most. Sophia knew that her beauty would not last long if she continued to live such a hard life. She would die an early death, stinking with some disgusting disease contracted from the sailors and pirates that she would lie with.
Sophia continued to stare, malice shining in her eyes. The girl began to look uncomfortable, fidgeting and dropping her gaze to the floor. Sophia detected a hint of shame in her posture, the set of her shoulders. "'Jus' doin' me job, Miss. Ah didn't know noffing about 'im," she offered with the voice of a child, a country maid who'd had a spot of bad luck. Sophia's face softened as she realized her fury should be directed at someone far more responsible that this child.
"I know. I shouldn't be angry with you."
The young woman grinned bitterly, her eyes tired and hard with experiences that someone her age should never have had to cope with, displaying blackened teeth. "Give 'im a good whippin' fer me, will ya?"
By the time Sophia arrived back at the Black Pearl, the fray had, for the most part, concluded. She had purposefully procrastinated her return to the ship; she'd seen enough blood for the night, and knew that Jack's crew would be no more merciful than the thieves when it came to the protection of their ship and captain. She only saw the bloodied bodies and captives, tied to the mast as was Jack's tradition, before she averted her eyes and walked to the captain's cabin to collect what possessions she had left there and return them to her own lodgings.
She left everything he owned in order, immaculate, and only took what she knew she owned without question. Every shirt, book, even quills he had lent her rested in their place. She took only the clothes that Anamaria had given her and was searching for the last blouse when Jack came in, rowdy and loud from the excitement of the fight. Casting her a distracted glance, he swaggered, his confidence boosted with victory, over to his chest and began stripping his shirt, wet with another man's blood. "Everythin's fine, Sophie. Not a man injured, savvy? Imagine it gave you quite a fright though, wha' with Andrew. . . What're you doin'?"
Sophia had to fight to keep her face passive as she gathered her garments into a tighter bundle against her chest. "I should think it would be obvious."
Realization dawned on Jack's face, and he narrowed his eyes disapprovingly, swaying on his feet with the aftermath of his drinking. "Bloody hell. 'Cause o' tha' girl? Honestly, Sophia, don't—"
"Don't what, Jack?" The anger that Sophia had kept so deceptively hidden exploded, rendering her blind to all else. He acted so bloody casual.
Jack grew increasingly uncomfortable. This was not a situation he usually had to encounter. "You can't take tha' seriously."
"How should I take it then? Should I just learn to accept your foul whoring habits and know that every time you take me to your bed another woman is there with us? That her stink is on you and any filthy, disgusting sickness she might carry might be passed to me? I will not sacrifice my health, both mental and physical, just for pleasure! You, of all people, should know I am stronger than that, after all that you know me to have survived! I am not the helpless child I was five years ago! I will not stand for this!" Sophia snarled, registering the surprise and utter bewilderedness on Jack's face with immense satisfaction. Still, despite her victory, she pressed on: "And you, sir, can rot in hell for all I care."
Jack stared at her. Very rarely was Sophia so malicious, and such an outburst surprised him, to say the least. Despite this, he could feel a spark of anger rising to counter hers.
How could she expect him to change his life for her when she knew that what he held closest to his heart was his freedom?
Before he could snap an unkind reply, Sophia stalked out of the door, chin held high, leaving Jack to contemplate and seethe over the emptiness of the room behind her.
It did feel empty.
It took Jack several days of enduring a twisting in his gut before he realized that he missed her. He missed her body, with its pale hollows and plains, soft to the touch. He missed the twinkle of mirth in her colorless eyes when she teased him and the patient way that she explained something that he did not understand.
Missing her made him angrier still. He was not supposed to miss anything.
They were simply not talking, and Sophia was perfectly happy to maintain her part of the silence. Her anger had not faded. His indifference to her request still enraged her.
It was only at night, when she lay in the coldness of her cot, that she wished for his company and his touch.
The journey to Tortuga continued as such.
Sophia spoke to him, for the first time in three days, only after gazing at the western cliff of Tortuga Island for a long time. Her voice carried no expression, and she would not allow her words to waver, though she felt like crumbling. She would miss this man, her lover, and this ship.
"I want to be taken home as soon as you've found your silly fortune. I want nothing more to do with pointless voyages or you."
Jack only nodded. "Aye."
They set out the next morning, laboring up the long trail due west. It was hard going and the footing was terrible, but they managed. When Sophia could afford to take her eyes off the trail, she would notice the beauty of the day and their surroundings. The sky was extremely blue, contrasting sharply with the Caribbean greenness of the ocean and the foliage around them. Tropical birds sang in the trees around them, occasionally taking flight in a sea of color.
Jack did not notice much about the environment, instead choosing to remain within his thoughts. Thoughts of the riches that were almost in his grasp, thoughts of saying goodbye once they were. He had known Sophia for an age, it seemed. What was it, six years? Seven? She seemed to make him loose track of time's progression. She'd become a part of his life on the ship, an everyday normality that he was only beginning to recognize as a blessing. But she would leave now, as everyone always did. He would cope and forget her face, as he always did.
Very suddenly he snapped from his reverie and decided to raise his crew's spirits with yet another story, embellished, of course. Something to fix his mind on anything other than her.
"'Ey, mate," Jack said, nudging the man at his side, "'ave you not yet heard the tale o' me an' the Syrian cannibals? No? Well. . ."
Everything was normal until they came to a clearing several hours into the trail, a soft place, peaceful, with a small spring and wild flowers blooming around its edge. It seemed a magical place, the darkness of the forest enclosing it from every angle. Sophia felt a tingle at her spine, and knew that they had come. "We are here."
She said it quietly in a voice sounding not her own, but all of the crew heard her. "What?" Jack asked, unable to mask the excitement in his voice.
"This is the place," Sophia repeated, her eyes scanning for something, anything, that could be a possible entrance into Ektibar's cave. Jack, too, was searching with a far more eager gaze than Sophia. Then he remembered.
"Say it, Sophie," he commanded, his voice deadly serious and with a hidden threat. If she wanted to, Sophia could deny him from everything with only the power of her will. The crew glanced between them, puzzled.
Sophia looked at Jack sharply, before realization dawned on her face. She felt somewhat hesitant and irrationally shy in response to his authoritative tone. It wasn't like him, but she guessed in the face of such riches he would resort to almost anything. After a flustered silence, Sophia managed to whisper, "La Mujer Fatal."
Jack spanned his eyes over the clearing again. There it was: a cave set in the far corner behind the spring. He must have missed it before. Grasping Sophia by the elbow lest she fall behind, he began to make his way towards the entrance, the crew following in bewildered silence.
The tunnel was dark and Sophia felt as if the air would suffocate. The tingle in her spine would not relent, and she had a foreboding sense that something was terribly wrong. Jack, however, was oblivious and actually began to hum a tune in his delight. He was going to be rich.
Finally, the channel opened into a large stone cavern. It was hollow and echoed the sound of their breathing, and the men stared and craned their heads to look at the impossible height in amazement. Sophia, however, was not looking at the cave.
There was a man standing with his back to them at the far end of the cave, legs spread apart and straight-shouldered with triumph. Sophia did not need to see his face to know who he was. "Jack!" She said in a strangled whisper, reaching blindly for the pirate's arm.
The man turned, and Sophia's swimming vision registered only the thin smile, curling at his lips like a maniac's.
"Hello, cousin. I was expecting to see you here at some time or another."
The plans men bring to a battlefield are always the first casualties, and events unfold thereafter as the gods will.
-- Daughter of Troy, Sarah B. Franklin
A/N: Hah! Who says Chapter 22 has nothing to do with the main plot! The authoress always has these little plans up her sleeve, does she not?
Grrr.. QuickEdit is not letting me do the single dash I usually have between 'sections' of the chapter, as I call them and I don't feel like having that big long line between them because it's ugly. So, guess what? You guys get to guess where they should be. This may have made the chapter seem a little unorganized.
Anyway, I'm back from my vacation (obviously), but that's not much of an excuse for the terribleness of this chapter. Blah, makes me want to gag myself. I really, really think my writing's gone downhill in a major way, in which case I may not write a sequel, although I have the end of this fic as well as the sequel all planned out in my handy dandy little brain (and I'm not giving anything away!). So, let me know what you guys think and I'll use you're opinions as well to decide whether or not to continue.
I do, however, like the conflict between Sophia and Jack. You're not really sure who is doing the right thing, and whose philosophy on the issue is correct. Is Jack supposed to change or is Sophia supposed to accept him? Hmmm… I haven't really decided myself yet, either.
Reviews are good, peoples. I'm sorry I haven't been answering your reviews individually (since, uh, Chapter 16, I think), but now I'll answer the main questions you guys had.
Women in Jack's lap: First time she's found him with a girl, second time she's seen him with one. Refer to Chapter 6 (One of my favorite chapters, by the way).
How Jack could do such a bad thing to Sophia: He's a pirate! And he's Jack, which we know all means he's a manwhore.
Yes, Norrington is dead.
How's Jack coping with having one girl at a time: Well, I should think that would be obvious by now.
I have not read the Iliad. Yet. Really, really want to. I have, however, seen Troy and marveled at Brad Pit's biceps in the process.
Okay, I think that's it. Thanks again, my lovely lovely reviewer people. I need more now, though! I need more to write another chapter! I do I do! J
