Disclaimer: Disney won't let me have PotC, so I shall content myself writing about them.
A/N: Okay, I'm back from vacation and won't be taking another for a while, at least. Thank you so much for all the reviews! Now, my trip has delayed this update long enough, onto the chapter . . .
Chapter Eleven:
"All due respect to your brother, Maria, but what is he going to do? He cannot leave his position guarding the settlements of England to chase after you. He won't abandon his duty like that."
Anamaria's eyes narrowed. "A lot has happened in two years, Chris," she said, recalling her brother's willingness to break the rules last year when Don Cornado had come to Kingston. Remembering her own willingness to break the rules for a pirate. "People change."
"Not our Captain Tarret," Chris replied, almost laughing, "he's a by-the-book Navy man, if I ever knew one."
"Not anymore," Ana replied, more to assure herself then to argue with Christopher.
Tilting his head to one side, Ana felt Chris' eyes one her. He always looked at her like that, when he suspected that she was not saying everything that was on her mind. He rose slowly to his feet and came around the desk to where Ana was standing. "I'm sorry," he said quietly.
Ana's eyebrows rose in surprise. "You are?"
"Prescott and I never really saw eye to eye, but he's a good man. I'm sure he's doing everything in his power to find you." Chris sighed and sat on the edge of his desk. "It doesn't really matter, anyway."
"What doesn't?" Ana searched her husband's face.
"I won't force you to stay if you don't want to be here . . . with me."
Chris' voice was soft and sad, almost as though he truly believed that Ana would have been happy to sail away with him and never go back to her old life. "You mean, you will take me back?" she asked, hoping she did not sound overly eager to get away from him.
He nodded. "We are headed to an island cache, where my crew keeps their plunder. As soon as our business there is finished, I will take you back to Kingston. If that is what you wish." Chris' eyes fell to the floor.
Ana almost could not believe what Chris had just said. "That's it?" she said tentatively.
Her husband met her gaze.
"You're going to sail all the way back to Kingston?"
"If that is what you want."
Ana was confused. "You're just taking me back? Then, why did you bring me aboard in the first place?"
"Captain?" Doyle Matthews appeared in the doorway before Chris could reply.
"Yes, Matthews?"
"Sail, sir."
Chris grabbed his hat from the desk and moved past Ana to follow the younger pirate.
"Answer my question," Ana's voice stopped her husband.
He lowered his head. Not turning around, he said, "I just wanted to see you once more."
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Prescott fell against the damp floor boards of the ship's brig. After being manhandled while descending through the upper decks of the ship by a rather putrid smelling agent of the East India Trading Company, he had been shoved unceremoniously into a cell on the lowest deck. Even in the daylight, the ship's hold was almost completely dark. Catching most of his weight on his hands, he stifled the gasp that tried to escape from his lungs. He heard Sparrow's voice getting closer, warning their captors not to touch Daniels again. Prescott raised his eyebrows upon hearing some of the things that the pirate threatened to do. Sparrow was not a malicious or cruel man by anyone's standards, but he was still a pirate, and he knew more ways to make his enemies suffer than the Royal Navy would ever imagine.
Seconds later, Sparrow and Daniels were pushed into the cell with Prescott. Daniels had been unconscious ever since he had been shot. His captain had practically carried him all the way to the brig. Sparrow cursed loudly as he fell to the floor much in the same way as Prescott had. The East India agents laughed at the pirate's discomfort as they exited the hold.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Prescott caught sight of Sparrow kneeling over his injured first mate. He was taking the bandana from Daniels' head and fashioning a makeshift bandage for the younger man's shoulder. Prescott removed his coat, balled it up and handed the garment to the pirate. "For his head."
The pirate nodded and placed Prescott's jacket beneath the younger man's head once he had finished bandaging his wound.
"How's it look?"
Sparrow moved to sit next to Prescott, with his back against the wall. "Went clean through," he said. "Any luck and 'e'll live long enough to catch worse from this lot."
Prescott nodded in solemn agreement, only vaguely aware of the fact that Sparrow probably could not see him. Remembering the scar around Daniels' neck, he asked, "where'd you find him?"
"At the end of a rope," Sparrow answered cryptically.
"What happened?" Prescott said, marveling at the man's ability to sidestep a question.
The pirate exhaled. "Found 'im in a some small town 'bout to be hung for stealing. Rope snapped. The town must o' been superstitious. They said the Lord didn't want to see his servant 'ang, so they let 'im go."
Prescott rolled his eyes. "I doubt the Lord that ever wants to see people hang."
Sparrow laughed. "How'd ye ever end up in the Navy if ye don't want to see the bad men die for they've done?"
If it had not been so dark, Prescott would have glared at the pirate. As it was, he did not waste the energy. "I joined the Navy to sail," he said. "Not everyone sees piracy as an option, you know."
"Aye," Sparrow answered, some degree of knowing in his voice, almost as though he understood what Prescott meant. But, how could he?
His curiosity ignited by the pirate's tone, Prescott recalled their earlier conversation. He had noticed Sparrow standing by the window in the Loyalty's wardroom. If not for the pirate's clothes, he would have looked every inch the proper Navy man, himself. Prescott furrowed his brow. For the first time since he had encountered the legendary pirate captain, Prescott began wonder who Jack Sparrow had been before he became the scourge of the seven seas. "How did you come to be a pirate?" he asked.
Sparrow did not answer, but his silence was almost more telling than his words could have been.
Prescott's blue eyes narrowed. "What did you mean when you asked me if I knew Chris Laffley as a captain or as a man?"
"Always ask so many questions, mate?" the pirate asked after a bit of a pause.
"When I suspect that a man is keeping something from me, I do, yes."
"I asked because I wanted to know how ye knew the man."
"And I told you how I knew him," Prescott said. "So, I'll ask again. Just how well do you know Lucky Laffley?"
The pirate pulled his legs up and leaned his arms on his knees. It was more than obvious that Sparrow had a story to tell, but he did not trust Prescott enough to tell it.
"I know that you don't trust me, Captain Sparrow. However, if we are going to get out of this and save Ana, you are going to have to."
Sparrow pulled the bandana from his head and ran his hand through his bejeweled hair.
When he finally spoke, the pirate's voice was low and even. "I served with Lieutenant Laffley on HMS Intrepid."
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Despite the lack of an invitation, Ana followed Doyle and her husband to the Lady Maria's starboard rail. Doyle pointed at something, and Chris raised the telescope to his eyes. Ana could barely see what the two men were looking at, but she knew most of the crew had seen it. The deck was tense, and nearly everyone was leaning over the side, straining for a better view of whatever approached.
Handing the glass back to Doyle, Chris leaned on the rail. "Call all hands, Mr. Matthews. Ready the guns."
"All hands to ready the guns," Doyle repeated. "Aye, sir."
"Chris, what's going on?"
"Navy," he replied shortly, confirming her suspicion.
"What ship?" Ana asked, hoping against hope that the Loyalty and Jack had somehow found her.
"Interceptor."
"What!?" Ana could not contain her surprise.
Chris raised his eyebrow. "Know her?"
Ana nodded, still unable to comprehend what was happening. "Remember Lieutenant Norrington? Well, he's a Captain now."
TBC
Well, I hope it was worth the wait. Don't forget to review on your way out.