Dutch Boy: You are crazy but I love you anyway!
AN: Just to let you guys now, there are a few minor changes in chapter 4 that I made because I realized a few things that I had left out.
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A Sparrow's Daughter
By Anlei
Chapter Five
Elizabeth Turner stood on the balcony to her bedroom looking out into the fading lights of Port Royale. She held one hand over her swollen belly, still marveling at the feeling of movement beneath her fingers even after two pregnancies. She smiled to herself, enjoying the warm breeze. She stood dressed in her robe and nightgown with her hair hanging free from its usual style and took in beauty of the night before her. Drawing her arms around her shoulders she turned to her husband who sat hunched over his knees in an arm chair deep in thought.
"Will?" She called, wanting him to join her. He didn't move. In fact he had barely spoken during dinner, a time when he usually took time to relax and enjoy his family. He had stared into his plate and barely touched the food on it. He allowed her to go upstairs while he sent the children to bed. When he joined her in their room he promptly sat in the chair and hadn't moved since. It worried her.
"Will?" She called again. Again, he failed to move even the slightest muscle in acknowledgement.
Her frown deepened and she moved to stand in front of him. One hand went to her aching back while the other rest on his shoulder. He jumped, startled and turned his widened eyes to her.
"Will, what on earth is the matter with you tonight? I've never seen you in this state since Billy first started working with you in the smithy and had that accident with a blade." He looked up to see the concern etched into her face and immediately felt guilty for making her worry, especially in her state. He stood up and took her into his arms.
"I don't mean to make you worry." He said while placing a gentle kiss on her temple. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.
"What plagues you so, my love?" Elizabeth sighed, her body relaxing as he gently messaged her lower back.
"I had a run in with the young maid who came by the smithy earlier this morning." He replied, linking his hands behind her back.
"You fancy her do you?" Elizabeth teased, leaning up to kiss him.
"One woman is quite enough." He teased in return, earning a mock glare from his sleepy wife.
With a long sigh the warm smile melted from his face.
"There is something about her that has caught my interest." He confessed quietly.
Elizabeth gave him a quizzical look. He kissed her forehead and pulled her closer. "And this has made you so distant tonight?" She asked.
"It's just that she reminds me so much of..." he paused in the middle of sentence, shaking his head, "but it would make no sense if what I'm thinking is true."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes, tired and in no mood for guessing at his thoughts. "William, darling, what is it?"
"This girl, Annabelle, looks to be a female version of Jack."
"What?" Elizabeth hardly believed what he said. She'd seen the young woman and if she was at any way related to Jack Sparrow she showed little of it character wise. Though, similarities in appearance were something she never thought of until now.
"She's slightly darker than he was but she has the same shaped eyes, very dark, seemingly innocent eyes, and her features are gentle, like his...but that's not what bothers me." He continued.
"How can you say that she is related to Jack Sparrow simply by looking at her? She could be related to anyone in Port Royale." Elizabeth reasoned.
"She told me her mother's name was Anamaria." He replied. Elizabeth straightened and looked him in the eye.
"You mean, the Jamaican woman from Tortuga I met on the Interceptor? That Anamaria?" Elizabeth asked, almost unable to believe what she had heard.
"I cannot think of anyone else. Yet, she said that she and her mother came from Spain and that she died years ago. That couldn't be true..." Again, his mind wandered to his earlier conversation with Annabelle.
"It's been many years since we've had contact with Jack Sparrow, let alone the Black Pearl, we would hardly know what could have happened in that time. Even if she is Anamaria's daughter, do you really think Jack Sparrow had anything to do with it? They hardly seemed on friendly terms, Will." Elizabeth argued.
"It hardly makes sense to my own mind either, Elizabeth. Yet, so much can change in over two decades. And you know how Jack was with women, particularly when having downed too much rum." Will replied looking down at his wife's face.
"Jack Sparrow with a daughter...it hardly seems possible." She muttered.
"But certainly probable." He returned. There were few women who were not "acquainted" with the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow in the Caribbean.
They both stood in silence for a moment, thinking about this new turn of events. Could this young woman really be his child? And if so, why was she not with Jack?
"She could very well be his child."
"Do you believe that he would abandon her? You said that she and Anamaria spent time in Spain." Elizabeth asked.
"Even if Jack is the most confusing person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting he is loyal despite how he appears. If he knows about her I'm sure he would have at least some contact with her." Will replied.
"This is silly, William! He may not even be her father. We can't say for sure that he is." She said as released her husband to sit in the chair he previously occupied.
"I understand that and I would dismiss this notion if it weren't for the memory of Jack's previous visit here." Will strode to the doorway of the balcony and clasped his hands behind his back.
Elizabeth gave a disgruntled noise before saying, "He's just asking for the noose the way he tempts fate to come speak with you, Will."
A weak smile graced her husband's lips as he remembered the last time he saw Jack. "I hope I never have to find out just how that man manages to slip past the marines unnoticed every time." But the smile quickly died remembering that particular visit.
"If you could have seen him Elizabeth you would not recognize the pirate from our adventures. The spark had gone from his eyes. He wouldn't speak to me on it, in fact he pretended as if nothing bothered him. He seemed so horribly sad."
Elizabeth yawned despite herself. She was interested more so than she wanted to admit yet the weight of a child strained her body and she found it hard to keep awake. She wanted nothing more than to curl up with her husband and sleep. "Captain Jack Sparrow has many secrets, my love. He's not one to openly display them." She murmured.
Will turned to see his wife admiring her beauty through the soft glow of the candles lit about their room. He loved her more than anything and cherished her and their children as any father would. He couldn't understand leaving any of them for longer than he had too. He was content to be a blacksmith and be home every evening for dinner and the warm embrace of his wife. Sure, he was vastly different from Jack Sparrow but the idea that this pirate would allow his daughter to become a maid, to Norrington no less, seemed ludicrous.
He knew Jack, no matter what anyone had said. He was no coward though he'd never given though to how Jack would react to a child. He half expected a child of Jack's child to be a smaller clone of himself. That thought brought a slight smile to his face. Maybe he was wrong and it was a mere coincidence.
Will resolved put this thought away. He and his wife both needed sleep, especially her. Walking over he crouched in front of her and touched her face. "We'll talk no more of this tonight. Let us go to bed." Elizabeth nodded and accepted his hand to stand up.
As they both slid under the cover, Will wrapped his arms around Elizabeth and watched her fall into slumber. He closed his yes and fell into an uneasy sleep.
In another part of Port Royale, Annabelle washed dishes with the other maids in the kitchen, wishing she could go and bathe the salt and sand from her skin. It made her petticoat stiff and itchy which was horribly uncomfortable underneath her dress. Clara said nothing to her when she came back. She simply directed her to the kitchen and continued about her work. Annabelle could easily see the nervous regret etched across the older woman's slim face. She watched Clara wring her hands as she worked, something she never did.
Annabelle wanted to assure her that she wouldn't speak of what she'd heard to any of the Norringtons but it would only serve to make things worse. Clara was in no mood for her. She didn't blame the woman. It was a rarity that any pirates, by blood or by choice, were allowed to walk the streets of Port Royale unchecked. If anyone found out Annabelle could find herself in real danger.
That thought had never really occurred to her before. And it made her slightly afraid. Over all she did enjoy living in the Norrington household. It may not have been preferable but there was so much a woman could do in this society to live comfortably and respectably.
What would she do if she left this house? Where would she go? How could she even begin to look for her father when she had nothing to go by? It seemed pointless to even consider. Yet here she was ready to throw her life away as she knew it for a pirate. She knew what kind of men pirates made and she hardly saw any of them being the respectable father types. They pillaged and plundered, that's what it meant to be a pirate...right?
At least that's what she's always known since being in Norrington's house. The rest of the port seemed to agree with this notion. Who was she to contradict it?
Taking the stack of dishes she'd just cleaned she began carrying them to the cupboard. Her mind was whirl, trying to piece together all of the memories that assaulted her brain. But nothing seemed to make sense. How does one simply loose years of their life? The doctors had told Norrington that she may or may not receive all of her memories and that only time would tell. It seemed far too long a time to remember. She wondered if there were things she would never recover.
Annabelle wanted most of all to remember her mother. After all, she had very little time with her but what she remembered touched her heart deeply. She adored the memories of her mother. It was those that made her feel calm when she felt that she was going out of control. Yet at the same time it made her despairingly gloomy. She'd lost this woman. And to make it worse she could not remember how. It was as if one day she was there then the next gone and all too soon Annabelle had to learn to cope with it alone.
Somehow the thoughts of her mother being a pirate didn't surprise Annabelle. It almost seemed...fitting. Here was a woman who dressed and acted like a man in a society where women like that were scorned. It would make sense that she would find solace among people who acted the same. She was sometimes crude and she usually enjoyed a good drink after dinner. She'd had a child out of wedlock. She carried a pistol with her at all times and as far as she could remember her mother never once wore a dress. The thought of that seemed rather comical. Her mother carried herself with pride and Annabelle felt that a dress would curtail that image.
Annabelle allowed herself to smile. By far her most favorite memories were her earliest. In Frida's nice but modest house she and her mother had shared a room and a bed. She'd awake to the smell of salt sea water that seemed to cling to her mother's skin. Perhaps that is why it felt so comforting to be close to the waters. It reminded her of her mother.
Sometimes, she fell asleep to the sound of her mother's voice, promising her the world and everything in it. She could hardly understand what her mother had meant all those years ago but the thought was strangely comforting. She'd run her long, calloused fingers through Annabelle's dark hair to lull the child to sleep. It took her a while to learn to sleep without it. When she first came to the house it felt too large and alien. Her own room as bigger than the room she shared and the bed was far too soft. Most of all, she lost the warmth of her mother, a feeling that made her secure. Now she slept fine but she still missed the familiarity.
It seemed that her mind simply shut its doors when she tried to look forward. Knowing that she was found on a pirate ship made no difference. She couldn't remember anything from it.
Logically, she knew she must have traveled by ship to get to Port Royale. She didn't simply appear there. But she had always thought it was a merchant vessel of some sort. The word pirate never even entered her mind.
For the first time since she thought of finding her father, she considered dropping the idea entirely. Annabelle felt completely unsure of her own courage to leave everything she's come to know behind. What if she couldn't come back? What if looking for her father meant abandoning security? Annabelle clutched the edges of the counter and leaned hard onto it. Soon she would have to go to Norrington and ask to leave. She had no idea what she would say. It seemed almost pointless to try but she had to! She suddenly felt terribly worried.
Norrington could very well look at her and think she was throwing everything he'd given to her back into her face. Was it worth it?
"Miss?" Annabelle started at the sound of someone's voice. She noticed now that the kitchen had emptied itself. Clara stood in the doorway watching her closely. Annabelle tried to form a weak smile but found that she couldn't.
"Am I finished here, Clara?" Annabelle asked tiredly, suddenly feeling very strained. Clara nodded, looking as if she wanted to say more but she remained silent.
Without thinking about what she was doing, Annabelle strode over to Clara and threw her arms around the woman. She felt her arms slowly wrap around the younger girl.
"Anna?" She asked gently, confused.
"Thank you, Clara. Thank you for everything you've done for me." Annabelle whispered, feeling tears sting the back of her eyes. She pulled away and gave Clara a watery smile. Clara looked troubled and confused.
Without saying another word Annabelle made her way to Norrington's study. She wasn't at all prepared but it was time to do as she must. She just hoped that she wouldn't have to say goodbye to all of these people for good.
In some deep, dark part of her mind, she secretly hoped that she wouldn't have to say goodbye at all. And at the same time, she knew she would.
AN: There you have it, sorry for the bit of delay. Classes, hw, ick! I'll try to get the next chapter out soon! ~Anlei~
AN: Just to let you guys now, there are a few minor changes in chapter 4 that I made because I realized a few things that I had left out.
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A Sparrow's Daughter
By Anlei
Chapter Five
Elizabeth Turner stood on the balcony to her bedroom looking out into the fading lights of Port Royale. She held one hand over her swollen belly, still marveling at the feeling of movement beneath her fingers even after two pregnancies. She smiled to herself, enjoying the warm breeze. She stood dressed in her robe and nightgown with her hair hanging free from its usual style and took in beauty of the night before her. Drawing her arms around her shoulders she turned to her husband who sat hunched over his knees in an arm chair deep in thought.
"Will?" She called, wanting him to join her. He didn't move. In fact he had barely spoken during dinner, a time when he usually took time to relax and enjoy his family. He had stared into his plate and barely touched the food on it. He allowed her to go upstairs while he sent the children to bed. When he joined her in their room he promptly sat in the chair and hadn't moved since. It worried her.
"Will?" She called again. Again, he failed to move even the slightest muscle in acknowledgement.
Her frown deepened and she moved to stand in front of him. One hand went to her aching back while the other rest on his shoulder. He jumped, startled and turned his widened eyes to her.
"Will, what on earth is the matter with you tonight? I've never seen you in this state since Billy first started working with you in the smithy and had that accident with a blade." He looked up to see the concern etched into her face and immediately felt guilty for making her worry, especially in her state. He stood up and took her into his arms.
"I don't mean to make you worry." He said while placing a gentle kiss on her temple. She leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder.
"What plagues you so, my love?" Elizabeth sighed, her body relaxing as he gently messaged her lower back.
"I had a run in with the young maid who came by the smithy earlier this morning." He replied, linking his hands behind her back.
"You fancy her do you?" Elizabeth teased, leaning up to kiss him.
"One woman is quite enough." He teased in return, earning a mock glare from his sleepy wife.
With a long sigh the warm smile melted from his face.
"There is something about her that has caught my interest." He confessed quietly.
Elizabeth gave him a quizzical look. He kissed her forehead and pulled her closer. "And this has made you so distant tonight?" She asked.
"It's just that she reminds me so much of..." he paused in the middle of sentence, shaking his head, "but it would make no sense if what I'm thinking is true."
Elizabeth rolled her eyes, tired and in no mood for guessing at his thoughts. "William, darling, what is it?"
"This girl, Annabelle, looks to be a female version of Jack."
"What?" Elizabeth hardly believed what he said. She'd seen the young woman and if she was at any way related to Jack Sparrow she showed little of it character wise. Though, similarities in appearance were something she never thought of until now.
"She's slightly darker than he was but she has the same shaped eyes, very dark, seemingly innocent eyes, and her features are gentle, like his...but that's not what bothers me." He continued.
"How can you say that she is related to Jack Sparrow simply by looking at her? She could be related to anyone in Port Royale." Elizabeth reasoned.
"She told me her mother's name was Anamaria." He replied. Elizabeth straightened and looked him in the eye.
"You mean, the Jamaican woman from Tortuga I met on the Interceptor? That Anamaria?" Elizabeth asked, almost unable to believe what she had heard.
"I cannot think of anyone else. Yet, she said that she and her mother came from Spain and that she died years ago. That couldn't be true..." Again, his mind wandered to his earlier conversation with Annabelle.
"It's been many years since we've had contact with Jack Sparrow, let alone the Black Pearl, we would hardly know what could have happened in that time. Even if she is Anamaria's daughter, do you really think Jack Sparrow had anything to do with it? They hardly seemed on friendly terms, Will." Elizabeth argued.
"It hardly makes sense to my own mind either, Elizabeth. Yet, so much can change in over two decades. And you know how Jack was with women, particularly when having downed too much rum." Will replied looking down at his wife's face.
"Jack Sparrow with a daughter...it hardly seems possible." She muttered.
"But certainly probable." He returned. There were few women who were not "acquainted" with the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow in the Caribbean.
They both stood in silence for a moment, thinking about this new turn of events. Could this young woman really be his child? And if so, why was she not with Jack?
"She could very well be his child."
"Do you believe that he would abandon her? You said that she and Anamaria spent time in Spain." Elizabeth asked.
"Even if Jack is the most confusing person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting he is loyal despite how he appears. If he knows about her I'm sure he would have at least some contact with her." Will replied.
"This is silly, William! He may not even be her father. We can't say for sure that he is." She said as released her husband to sit in the chair he previously occupied.
"I understand that and I would dismiss this notion if it weren't for the memory of Jack's previous visit here." Will strode to the doorway of the balcony and clasped his hands behind his back.
Elizabeth gave a disgruntled noise before saying, "He's just asking for the noose the way he tempts fate to come speak with you, Will."
A weak smile graced her husband's lips as he remembered the last time he saw Jack. "I hope I never have to find out just how that man manages to slip past the marines unnoticed every time." But the smile quickly died remembering that particular visit.
"If you could have seen him Elizabeth you would not recognize the pirate from our adventures. The spark had gone from his eyes. He wouldn't speak to me on it, in fact he pretended as if nothing bothered him. He seemed so horribly sad."
Elizabeth yawned despite herself. She was interested more so than she wanted to admit yet the weight of a child strained her body and she found it hard to keep awake. She wanted nothing more than to curl up with her husband and sleep. "Captain Jack Sparrow has many secrets, my love. He's not one to openly display them." She murmured.
Will turned to see his wife admiring her beauty through the soft glow of the candles lit about their room. He loved her more than anything and cherished her and their children as any father would. He couldn't understand leaving any of them for longer than he had too. He was content to be a blacksmith and be home every evening for dinner and the warm embrace of his wife. Sure, he was vastly different from Jack Sparrow but the idea that this pirate would allow his daughter to become a maid, to Norrington no less, seemed ludicrous.
He knew Jack, no matter what anyone had said. He was no coward though he'd never given though to how Jack would react to a child. He half expected a child of Jack's child to be a smaller clone of himself. That thought brought a slight smile to his face. Maybe he was wrong and it was a mere coincidence.
Will resolved put this thought away. He and his wife both needed sleep, especially her. Walking over he crouched in front of her and touched her face. "We'll talk no more of this tonight. Let us go to bed." Elizabeth nodded and accepted his hand to stand up.
As they both slid under the cover, Will wrapped his arms around Elizabeth and watched her fall into slumber. He closed his yes and fell into an uneasy sleep.
In another part of Port Royale, Annabelle washed dishes with the other maids in the kitchen, wishing she could go and bathe the salt and sand from her skin. It made her petticoat stiff and itchy which was horribly uncomfortable underneath her dress. Clara said nothing to her when she came back. She simply directed her to the kitchen and continued about her work. Annabelle could easily see the nervous regret etched across the older woman's slim face. She watched Clara wring her hands as she worked, something she never did.
Annabelle wanted to assure her that she wouldn't speak of what she'd heard to any of the Norringtons but it would only serve to make things worse. Clara was in no mood for her. She didn't blame the woman. It was a rarity that any pirates, by blood or by choice, were allowed to walk the streets of Port Royale unchecked. If anyone found out Annabelle could find herself in real danger.
That thought had never really occurred to her before. And it made her slightly afraid. Over all she did enjoy living in the Norrington household. It may not have been preferable but there was so much a woman could do in this society to live comfortably and respectably.
What would she do if she left this house? Where would she go? How could she even begin to look for her father when she had nothing to go by? It seemed pointless to even consider. Yet here she was ready to throw her life away as she knew it for a pirate. She knew what kind of men pirates made and she hardly saw any of them being the respectable father types. They pillaged and plundered, that's what it meant to be a pirate...right?
At least that's what she's always known since being in Norrington's house. The rest of the port seemed to agree with this notion. Who was she to contradict it?
Taking the stack of dishes she'd just cleaned she began carrying them to the cupboard. Her mind was whirl, trying to piece together all of the memories that assaulted her brain. But nothing seemed to make sense. How does one simply loose years of their life? The doctors had told Norrington that she may or may not receive all of her memories and that only time would tell. It seemed far too long a time to remember. She wondered if there were things she would never recover.
Annabelle wanted most of all to remember her mother. After all, she had very little time with her but what she remembered touched her heart deeply. She adored the memories of her mother. It was those that made her feel calm when she felt that she was going out of control. Yet at the same time it made her despairingly gloomy. She'd lost this woman. And to make it worse she could not remember how. It was as if one day she was there then the next gone and all too soon Annabelle had to learn to cope with it alone.
Somehow the thoughts of her mother being a pirate didn't surprise Annabelle. It almost seemed...fitting. Here was a woman who dressed and acted like a man in a society where women like that were scorned. It would make sense that she would find solace among people who acted the same. She was sometimes crude and she usually enjoyed a good drink after dinner. She'd had a child out of wedlock. She carried a pistol with her at all times and as far as she could remember her mother never once wore a dress. The thought of that seemed rather comical. Her mother carried herself with pride and Annabelle felt that a dress would curtail that image.
Annabelle allowed herself to smile. By far her most favorite memories were her earliest. In Frida's nice but modest house she and her mother had shared a room and a bed. She'd awake to the smell of salt sea water that seemed to cling to her mother's skin. Perhaps that is why it felt so comforting to be close to the waters. It reminded her of her mother.
Sometimes, she fell asleep to the sound of her mother's voice, promising her the world and everything in it. She could hardly understand what her mother had meant all those years ago but the thought was strangely comforting. She'd run her long, calloused fingers through Annabelle's dark hair to lull the child to sleep. It took her a while to learn to sleep without it. When she first came to the house it felt too large and alien. Her own room as bigger than the room she shared and the bed was far too soft. Most of all, she lost the warmth of her mother, a feeling that made her secure. Now she slept fine but she still missed the familiarity.
It seemed that her mind simply shut its doors when she tried to look forward. Knowing that she was found on a pirate ship made no difference. She couldn't remember anything from it.
Logically, she knew she must have traveled by ship to get to Port Royale. She didn't simply appear there. But she had always thought it was a merchant vessel of some sort. The word pirate never even entered her mind.
For the first time since she thought of finding her father, she considered dropping the idea entirely. Annabelle felt completely unsure of her own courage to leave everything she's come to know behind. What if she couldn't come back? What if looking for her father meant abandoning security? Annabelle clutched the edges of the counter and leaned hard onto it. Soon she would have to go to Norrington and ask to leave. She had no idea what she would say. It seemed almost pointless to try but she had to! She suddenly felt terribly worried.
Norrington could very well look at her and think she was throwing everything he'd given to her back into her face. Was it worth it?
"Miss?" Annabelle started at the sound of someone's voice. She noticed now that the kitchen had emptied itself. Clara stood in the doorway watching her closely. Annabelle tried to form a weak smile but found that she couldn't.
"Am I finished here, Clara?" Annabelle asked tiredly, suddenly feeling very strained. Clara nodded, looking as if she wanted to say more but she remained silent.
Without thinking about what she was doing, Annabelle strode over to Clara and threw her arms around the woman. She felt her arms slowly wrap around the younger girl.
"Anna?" She asked gently, confused.
"Thank you, Clara. Thank you for everything you've done for me." Annabelle whispered, feeling tears sting the back of her eyes. She pulled away and gave Clara a watery smile. Clara looked troubled and confused.
Without saying another word Annabelle made her way to Norrington's study. She wasn't at all prepared but it was time to do as she must. She just hoped that she wouldn't have to say goodbye to all of these people for good.
In some deep, dark part of her mind, she secretly hoped that she wouldn't have to say goodbye at all. And at the same time, she knew she would.
AN: There you have it, sorry for the bit of delay. Classes, hw, ick! I'll try to get the next chapter out soon! ~Anlei~