Disclaimer: You tell me.
Note: Dude! We broke 50 reviews! I heart you kids! Thank you to the observant reviewer who realized that I changed Eaton's name to Charles halfway through. No, it was not intentional; I'm just completely losing my mind. His name will continue to be Clark and I thank you for pointing it out and apologize for the confusion. This week I only have to go into school for two days to take some midterms, so I'll probably be updating like whoa. Stay tuned and here goes . . .
Here's To Freedom (Chapter 19)
"Oh! Miss Swann! You've returned!"
Natalie stepped into the foyer of the palace and sighed hopelessly as the woman's hysterical sobbing pierced the cool silence of the huge building. She had been sighing an awful lot lately. It had just been one of those weeks.
Nodding politely as Chandler closed the front door behind her and bid her welcome, she removed her bonnet and shawl and braced herself for the oncoming attack.
Noreen, the head housekeeper, came running at her, full speed, before finally collapsing at her feet in a blubbering heap. Wrapping her short, chubby arms in a vice-like grip around her ankles, she cried out, but her thick, Irish brogue and incessant weeping made her practically impossible to understand. "Oh! I was so worried about you, child!"
Her face contorting in discomfort, she tried her hardest to wriggle free of the woman's clutches, but to no avail.
"Noreen," Natalie said, gently patting the woman's heaving shoulders, "I only went to the market. I was gone fifteen minutes, at best." Another forlorn moan burst forth from her lips, and the girl shook her head. "Oh dear, you really must stop this."
In disbelieving silence, she wondered why she had been jealous of Elizabeth . . . for all this.
Finally, Chandler came over and answered her unspoken pleadings. Prying Noreen off of the floor, with nothing more than an understanding nod, he accompanied the distraught maid to the kitchens to calm her down. The straight-laced door man didn't speak much, but he more than made up for what he lacked with his impeccable timing.
Natalie took one more look at the ornate decor of the vestibule before shaking her head and moving up the stairs. It had been almost two days since her return, and those two short days had been filled with encounters similar in nature to the one she had shared with Noreen earlier.
Gentlemen had suddenly become shamelessly flirtatious with her, while the ladies all begged to hear stories about the dashing Captain Jack Sparrow, two ideas which disturbed her more than words could say. Whenever anyone approached her, she would simply feign weariness instead, retreating to the patio to stare out at the harbor for hours on end.
But the newfound interest in all things Natalie, however unwanted the attention was, still didn't belong solely to her. Elizabeth and Will had gone missing at sea, and the entire free world felt it necessary to jump to the most horrific conclusions and such, dragging her father deeper into despair.
Furrowing her brow, she quickly ducked inside her room. The door clicked closed and she leaned up against it with an exasperated sigh. "The two of them are probably off making babes galore on some beach, completely ignorant to the mess they are making here."
The moment that she uttered the words, Natalie stopped and thought about them.
She had done the very same.
It was because she couldn't handle the life she had been given, a life that many would have gladly taken instead of their own, that the Commodore had to take time out to go and look for her, that her father wouldn't even look upon her, let alone speak with her, that Jack's life hung in the balance.
Moving over to the enormous picture window on the far side of the room, Natalie peered out at the bustling town of Port Royale, bathed in the warm glow of the bright afternoon sun and enveloped in the cool Caribbean breeze.
Everyone seemed so merry, she mused. They didn't need the intricate trappings of high society to see the beauty of life and be content with that, and in that moment, Natalie felt as though she would sell her soul for such freedom. Unconditional happiness had a lovely ring to it, after all.
Suddenly, the door flew open and in stormed her father, his hands clasped behind his back and the usual look of smug indifference on his weathered face. "Well, what do you think?"
Briskly, Weatherby withdrew a relatively small bundle, and, holding it in front of him, released the bottom, allowing thick, pink floral fabric to cascade to the floor.
Natalie's eyes widened and her heart warmed as her eyes fell upon the gorgeous frock. This wasn't just any gift, she thought with a smile. It was a symbol of her father's love for her, and the fact that in spite of all that they had suffered, he still cared.
"Oh, Father! It's lovely, really it is!" she sighed, approaching him. Extending her hand, Natalie ran her fingertips along the beautiful brocade fabric and added, "This means so much to me. Thank you."
Stepping forward, she outstretched her arms, prepared to envelop him in a hug, but at the last moment, he pulled away, snatching the dress from her grasp and looking down at her with cold, conflicted eyes.
"It's for Elizabeth . . . for her to wear to the engagement festivities. I'd like your opinion, if it isn't too much trouble." His voice dripped with disdain and she wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest if he set the air to freezing with his icy tone.
Natalie could hardly believe her ears. Looking at him, her jaw hanging down past her knees and her green eyes as wide as saucers, she stuttered, "Are you serious? Father, she isn't even here! We don't know where she is . . . or if she plans on returning . . ."
Immediately he lost his temper, flying to her side until he was mere inches from her face, wagging his pointer finger menacingly before her. "Don't you dare, young lady! It is no one else's fault but your own that she is gone right now! She went off in search of you, even though we said otherwise. Elizabeth thought of no one but you, and you refuse to think of anyone but yourself. You should be ashamed."
Shooting her a final scathing glance, Weatherby said, "You had better start getting ready. I won't tolerate any of your shenanigans this evening. Good day." And with that, he made his exit, slamming the door, and leaving an inconsolable daughter in his wake.
* * * *
Evening fell slowly on Jamaica, painting the sky with a rainbow of colors as the Cara Mia dropped her anchor in a nearby cove to let off its precious cargo. "Well, 'ere it is. Port Royale, the happiest place on earth," Jack said, shaking his head sadly as he took another swig from the glass bottle in his trembling hand.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw Elizabeth and Will standing there, getting ready to leave. "Jack, are you to go ashore?" he heard her say softly.
It was a good question. It was one he was debating the answer to, as well.
He wanted to go and get her more than he could express with mere words, hell, he probably needed to! Jack had become a complete madman without her. Natalie had only been with him for about a week, but her presence had changed him for a lifetime. He drank even more than he used to, which was followed by extraordinary amounts of swearing and yelling, and then sleepless nights and short-tempered days.
The men had even given up talking to him. They just passed word to Will, the poster-child for the sacrificial lamb. Jack would chew him out, but their friendship allowed for it and no offense was ever taken. Lord knows what was to happen after they had put Port Royal to their rudder.
"Jack?"
"No," he said sharply. This wasn't about what he wanted, or what he even needed. It was about her. Natalie belonged here, and it was plain fact that Captain Jack Sparrow didn't.
He heard her feet softly patter against the slats of the wooden deck as she moved to his side, and tried to avoid meeting her eyes. Elizabeth Swann had quite the knack for persuasion. A few words, some eyelash- batting, and he would be in a damn row boat, paddling ashore to do exactly what he knew he shouldn't be doing. He had to stay strong.
"Jack."
"Damned it all!" he shouted, "What do you want from me?!"
* * * *
Jack pulled back on the oars, in synch with William, and sneered in the darkness of the now fallen night. As the beach became closer and closer with each stroke, he began to mumble, incoherently at first, then a little louder.
"Women!"
* * * *
Note: Dude! We broke 50 reviews! I heart you kids! Thank you to the observant reviewer who realized that I changed Eaton's name to Charles halfway through. No, it was not intentional; I'm just completely losing my mind. His name will continue to be Clark and I thank you for pointing it out and apologize for the confusion. This week I only have to go into school for two days to take some midterms, so I'll probably be updating like whoa. Stay tuned and here goes . . .
Here's To Freedom (Chapter 19)
"Oh! Miss Swann! You've returned!"
Natalie stepped into the foyer of the palace and sighed hopelessly as the woman's hysterical sobbing pierced the cool silence of the huge building. She had been sighing an awful lot lately. It had just been one of those weeks.
Nodding politely as Chandler closed the front door behind her and bid her welcome, she removed her bonnet and shawl and braced herself for the oncoming attack.
Noreen, the head housekeeper, came running at her, full speed, before finally collapsing at her feet in a blubbering heap. Wrapping her short, chubby arms in a vice-like grip around her ankles, she cried out, but her thick, Irish brogue and incessant weeping made her practically impossible to understand. "Oh! I was so worried about you, child!"
Her face contorting in discomfort, she tried her hardest to wriggle free of the woman's clutches, but to no avail.
"Noreen," Natalie said, gently patting the woman's heaving shoulders, "I only went to the market. I was gone fifteen minutes, at best." Another forlorn moan burst forth from her lips, and the girl shook her head. "Oh dear, you really must stop this."
In disbelieving silence, she wondered why she had been jealous of Elizabeth . . . for all this.
Finally, Chandler came over and answered her unspoken pleadings. Prying Noreen off of the floor, with nothing more than an understanding nod, he accompanied the distraught maid to the kitchens to calm her down. The straight-laced door man didn't speak much, but he more than made up for what he lacked with his impeccable timing.
Natalie took one more look at the ornate decor of the vestibule before shaking her head and moving up the stairs. It had been almost two days since her return, and those two short days had been filled with encounters similar in nature to the one she had shared with Noreen earlier.
Gentlemen had suddenly become shamelessly flirtatious with her, while the ladies all begged to hear stories about the dashing Captain Jack Sparrow, two ideas which disturbed her more than words could say. Whenever anyone approached her, she would simply feign weariness instead, retreating to the patio to stare out at the harbor for hours on end.
But the newfound interest in all things Natalie, however unwanted the attention was, still didn't belong solely to her. Elizabeth and Will had gone missing at sea, and the entire free world felt it necessary to jump to the most horrific conclusions and such, dragging her father deeper into despair.
Furrowing her brow, she quickly ducked inside her room. The door clicked closed and she leaned up against it with an exasperated sigh. "The two of them are probably off making babes galore on some beach, completely ignorant to the mess they are making here."
The moment that she uttered the words, Natalie stopped and thought about them.
She had done the very same.
It was because she couldn't handle the life she had been given, a life that many would have gladly taken instead of their own, that the Commodore had to take time out to go and look for her, that her father wouldn't even look upon her, let alone speak with her, that Jack's life hung in the balance.
Moving over to the enormous picture window on the far side of the room, Natalie peered out at the bustling town of Port Royale, bathed in the warm glow of the bright afternoon sun and enveloped in the cool Caribbean breeze.
Everyone seemed so merry, she mused. They didn't need the intricate trappings of high society to see the beauty of life and be content with that, and in that moment, Natalie felt as though she would sell her soul for such freedom. Unconditional happiness had a lovely ring to it, after all.
Suddenly, the door flew open and in stormed her father, his hands clasped behind his back and the usual look of smug indifference on his weathered face. "Well, what do you think?"
Briskly, Weatherby withdrew a relatively small bundle, and, holding it in front of him, released the bottom, allowing thick, pink floral fabric to cascade to the floor.
Natalie's eyes widened and her heart warmed as her eyes fell upon the gorgeous frock. This wasn't just any gift, she thought with a smile. It was a symbol of her father's love for her, and the fact that in spite of all that they had suffered, he still cared.
"Oh, Father! It's lovely, really it is!" she sighed, approaching him. Extending her hand, Natalie ran her fingertips along the beautiful brocade fabric and added, "This means so much to me. Thank you."
Stepping forward, she outstretched her arms, prepared to envelop him in a hug, but at the last moment, he pulled away, snatching the dress from her grasp and looking down at her with cold, conflicted eyes.
"It's for Elizabeth . . . for her to wear to the engagement festivities. I'd like your opinion, if it isn't too much trouble." His voice dripped with disdain and she wouldn't have been surprised in the slightest if he set the air to freezing with his icy tone.
Natalie could hardly believe her ears. Looking at him, her jaw hanging down past her knees and her green eyes as wide as saucers, she stuttered, "Are you serious? Father, she isn't even here! We don't know where she is . . . or if she plans on returning . . ."
Immediately he lost his temper, flying to her side until he was mere inches from her face, wagging his pointer finger menacingly before her. "Don't you dare, young lady! It is no one else's fault but your own that she is gone right now! She went off in search of you, even though we said otherwise. Elizabeth thought of no one but you, and you refuse to think of anyone but yourself. You should be ashamed."
Shooting her a final scathing glance, Weatherby said, "You had better start getting ready. I won't tolerate any of your shenanigans this evening. Good day." And with that, he made his exit, slamming the door, and leaving an inconsolable daughter in his wake.
* * * *
Evening fell slowly on Jamaica, painting the sky with a rainbow of colors as the Cara Mia dropped her anchor in a nearby cove to let off its precious cargo. "Well, 'ere it is. Port Royale, the happiest place on earth," Jack said, shaking his head sadly as he took another swig from the glass bottle in his trembling hand.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw Elizabeth and Will standing there, getting ready to leave. "Jack, are you to go ashore?" he heard her say softly.
It was a good question. It was one he was debating the answer to, as well.
He wanted to go and get her more than he could express with mere words, hell, he probably needed to! Jack had become a complete madman without her. Natalie had only been with him for about a week, but her presence had changed him for a lifetime. He drank even more than he used to, which was followed by extraordinary amounts of swearing and yelling, and then sleepless nights and short-tempered days.
The men had even given up talking to him. They just passed word to Will, the poster-child for the sacrificial lamb. Jack would chew him out, but their friendship allowed for it and no offense was ever taken. Lord knows what was to happen after they had put Port Royal to their rudder.
"Jack?"
"No," he said sharply. This wasn't about what he wanted, or what he even needed. It was about her. Natalie belonged here, and it was plain fact that Captain Jack Sparrow didn't.
He heard her feet softly patter against the slats of the wooden deck as she moved to his side, and tried to avoid meeting her eyes. Elizabeth Swann had quite the knack for persuasion. A few words, some eyelash- batting, and he would be in a damn row boat, paddling ashore to do exactly what he knew he shouldn't be doing. He had to stay strong.
"Jack."
"Damned it all!" he shouted, "What do you want from me?!"
* * * *
Jack pulled back on the oars, in synch with William, and sneered in the darkness of the now fallen night. As the beach became closer and closer with each stroke, he began to mumble, incoherently at first, then a little louder.
"Women!"
* * * *