Disclaimer: Compliments of Kizume Bass:
*Michael Eisner stood menacingly over GooseLives and sneered. "So, you expect to leave me standing on some beach with naught but a name and your word it's the one I need, and watch you sail away with my story?"
"Absolutely not!" She retorted, "I expect to leave you on standing on some beach, with no name at all, watching me sail away with my story and I'll shout the name back to you. Savvy?"*
Note: Thank you for your awesome reviews, endings, and questions! Italy was bleating amazing and I did have a safe, but very long, flight there and back. While I almost went stir crazy halfway over the Atlantic Ocean, it gave me plenty of time to come up with the following, so enjoy!
Here's To Freedom (Chapter 24...I think...It's been a while...)
Muttering a string of expletives that would have caused even the most foul-mouthed pirate to cringe, Jack scaled the wall and hoisted himself up into the crook of the sill of the open window. Under the cover of the swaying palm foliage, his dark eyes adjusted to the scene before him, alive and bustling with excitement.
Scanning the crowd, he saw hundreds of people milling about, but none had the face his heart so longed to see. If he had been in his right mind, the bird's eye view would have been perfect for watching this comedy play out.
The governor stood, slumped dejectedly at the base of the Grand Staircase, looking for all the world as though he had already polished off a few brandy decanters and was on the hunt for another to numb the pain of fatherhood.
Geoffrey Eaton also looked a bit overtaxed, apparently trying to ignore the fact that he had a son by doing what he was best at: slinking about in the shadows, like the devil he was. And, as was usual, the younger Eaton was looking positively beside himself, but what was it this time?
Following the boy's line of sight, Jack's eyes fell upon her.
The mere sight of Natalie's beautiful face, flushed a rosy pink from the exertion and alight with laughter as she gracefully twirled about on the polished marble floor, set his foolish heart to sputtering and nearly sent him plummeting from his perch.
Her incredibly feminine form was sheathed in a frock of deep wine- colored jacquard, trimmed in cream lace and pale green ribbon, which he knew would only intensify the brilliant hue of her eyes. Natalie's deep auburn hair was pulled back in a loose chignon, but just like her, the glossy tresses refused to be tamed, and escaped down her back, like rivulets of crystalline water, every time she moved.
Even from afar, Natalie was had to be the loveliest creature his eyes had ever beheld, so much so that a part of him was thankful that he couldn't see her up close. His heart would have probably stopped cold dead in its place before dropping like a rock into the pit of his stomach. Still, that sounded like one hell of a way to die.
The prospect of death was suddenly wiped from his mind as a crippling fit of jealousy set in.
Anything, including visits from his great Aunt Beatrice, who used to enjoy pinching his face until it bled, and being drawn and quartered by the Fleet, had to be better than watching the woman of his dreams give the gift of her precious smile to someone other than himself.
Squinting in their general direction, Jack's eyes remained unflinching on the couple as they twirled about the ball room, but, alas, the vast distance between them and the fact that the blighter she held in her arms was facing in the opposite direction, afforded him a very poor view, indeed.
As if to stop the torture, some higher being intervened a few moments later and the dancers rotated, leaving Natalie's back to face him. His eyes soon fell upon the one man who could, and would be very much obliged, to efficiently end his life without batting an eyelash: Commodore James Norrington.
Jack damn near succumbed to the vapors at the sight of the ordinarily uptight, law-abiding, pinnacle of perfection, giggling like a besotted school boy as he gracefully glided over the floor with Natalie. If only the boys who ran the gallows could see this...
Part of him felt like laughing at the picture unfolding before his eyes, while another part wanted to ring the military man's neck, and still a very minute percentage of him, which lied outside the former realms, remained frozen with stupefied shock.
But before his brain could even register the trillions of conflicting thoughts that were running through his head, the soft, high- pitched clink of metal against a champagne flute ascended into the warm, moist air of the Caribbean night that had invaded the lofty room. An eerie silence befell the throng of people who crowded the floor as Geoffrey Eaton climbed up onto the orchestral platform at the base of the stairs and spoke his will.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began, "In this ever changing world, it is comforting to know that some things will stay forever constant; the greatest of all these things is undying love and affection.
"We are here tonight to honor two young souls, who were lucky enough to find such love right here in Port Royale, and are ready to share a lifetime together. Please help me in congratulating the beautiful Miss Natalie Swann and my boy, Master Clark Eaton!"
Natalie turned her wide, pleading eyes up to the Commodore, full of uncertainty as the smiling faces of complete strangers surrounded her, pushing her through to the front to meet her betrothed at the dais. That subversive twit had made the announcement early! He had ruined everything!
It was all James could do to just stand there, fighting the urge to drop dead. He knew what he had to do, and he had no intention of going back on his word, but the sudden nature of it all had him quaking in his impeccably polished boots. He was, after all, going to publicly end his life as a bachelor. Very publicly...
Raising his eyes above the rather large wigs of the men and women in front of him, his gaze settled on her, looking more like a prisoner waiting for death at the gallows than a woman waiting for her fiancé at a party. Furrowing his brow and taking a deep breath, he set her in his sights.
Looking out at the enormous mass of humanity that swayed ominously before her eyes, Natalie couldn't recall ever feeling the need to swoon before. In fact, she prided herself on her strong personal constitution, but this was simply too much for any one person to contend with.
"Pardon me!" came a shout from the bowels of the crowd, "I cannot allow this to continue!" The crowd assembled let out an audible gasp, in unison that she, given any other circumstances, would have marveled at, and turned to see who had called forth from their midst.
Natalie had a good idea of who it was, and a secretive smile crossed her lips as Commodore James Norrington emerged from the sea of people with the deftness of Moses and a spark of fire in his usually calm and disconnected demeanor.
Pushing some bystanders aside, he stepped up onto the carpeted stage to perform his little act for the wealthy of Jamaica. Stretching across a dejected Clark, he held his arm out to Natalie and pulled her close to his side.
"Master Eaton," he shouted, making sure he was loud enough for the kitchen staff to hear, "I'm afraid that it would be impossible for Miss Swann to even entertain the notion of wedded bliss with your son, for she had already agreed to marry me."
Immediately, the curious whisperings of the group exploded into cries of surprise, and nothing short of chaos ensued. Clark Eaton keeled over at the news, while his father erupted in a fit of rage. "Why you...you trollop! You were promised to my son!" Geoffrey cried, eventually working himself into such a tizzy that he could do nothing but stutter in her presence. Deciding that he would get nowhere fast with his insolent ex- daughter-in-law-to-be, he bellowed, "Weatherby!"
With the haze of the alcohol wearing thin, Weatherby Swann was confronted with a massive headache, rivaling any other known to man, and a screaming mob led by an absolutely livid Geoffrey Eaton.
"Will you tell that daughter of yours that she is to marry my son, once and for all!?" the man hollered, his face turning a deep red with frustration and anger, "It simply isn't fair! The Commodore proposed after Clark did, which means she belongs to him!"
The people huddled around the two men, waiting in nervous anticipation to hear the governor's rebuttal.
Raising his eyebrows until they vanished beneath his askew wig and squinting to bring the older man into focus, Weatherby murmured, "What's going on?"
From the throng of individuals that had surrounded him, he watched as his daughter, Natalie, emerged with the Commodore in tow. Her eyes trained downward, she said softly, "Father, James has asked for my hand in marriage, and I have consented. Since you had requested that I find a husband, I assume that the choice of the man I will spend a lifetime with is up to my discretion."
Slowly but surely, his daughter's emotional utterance penetrated the thinning haze of brandy around his brain and he replied, "The Commodore is a fine man, I have no objections." Turning to Geoffrey Eaton, who was doing a smashingly accurate impression of a dead carp at the moment, he added, "My apologies, old friend, but it is my daughter's decision."
Natalie could hardly believe what she was hearing! Finally, after all of these years, he was respecting her wishes! With a huge grin, she hurried over to her father and enveloped him in a hug. "I love you," she whispered.
* * * *
Letting go of the palace's eastern wall of stone, Jack fell for almost three feet before landing in a heap of shrubbery at its base. "Well, well," he said, brushing the palm fronds from his matted hair and the dirt from his already filthy woolen duster before rising to his feet once more, "Now I know why these parties are so hard to miss."
Realizing that anyone capable of turning him in was now crammed into the mausoleum, now shrinking behind him, he didn't even bother scaling the wall again, simply walking through the manor's gate and onto the cobbled streets of the poor man's Port Royal. But, of course, he hadn't yet walked four paces when he heard his name being shouted out and the sound of footsteps growing nearer.
Stopping, he watched as Elizabeth and Will emerged from the shadows and approached. "Hello again, Jack. Have you had your fill of voyeurism for the evening?" she asked with a teasing smile. It didn't take her long to recognize that something was amiss, and slowly her brow furrowed and her smile fizzled out. "Whatever is the matter?"
Jack sighed and raised his eyes to the sky for the umpteenth time that evening. He was so sick and tired of talking about feelings and other such drivel, so much so that he was contemplating having "Talk to me and die!" tattooed across his forehead. Sadly, that wouldn't even quiet the nosy Madame Turner.
"Nothing is the matter, Miss. I simply have a duty to my crew and leaving them floating in an enemy port on my vessel still makes me a bit uneasy," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's too bad that you came so late, though, you missed one hell of a good time. Now, if you'd excuse me."
Ignoring their protests, he muttered a quick "Farewell" and pushed past the happy couple, storming off in the direction of the Cara Mia to drown his sorrow in rum and the lull of the open ocean. It was utterly delightful to pretend that he was pleased about her betrothal to the bane of his existence, but, for Jack, it was easier said than done.
Natalie belonged here on land, surrounded by her family and her money, not on the ship of a pirate, surrounded by death and debauchery. He loved her more than he'd ever loved anything: more than the Cara Mia, more than his men, more than his own life.
That fact alone was enough to disturb him into letting her go without a fight.
* * * *
*Michael Eisner stood menacingly over GooseLives and sneered. "So, you expect to leave me standing on some beach with naught but a name and your word it's the one I need, and watch you sail away with my story?"
"Absolutely not!" She retorted, "I expect to leave you on standing on some beach, with no name at all, watching me sail away with my story and I'll shout the name back to you. Savvy?"*
Note: Thank you for your awesome reviews, endings, and questions! Italy was bleating amazing and I did have a safe, but very long, flight there and back. While I almost went stir crazy halfway over the Atlantic Ocean, it gave me plenty of time to come up with the following, so enjoy!
Here's To Freedom (Chapter 24...I think...It's been a while...)
Muttering a string of expletives that would have caused even the most foul-mouthed pirate to cringe, Jack scaled the wall and hoisted himself up into the crook of the sill of the open window. Under the cover of the swaying palm foliage, his dark eyes adjusted to the scene before him, alive and bustling with excitement.
Scanning the crowd, he saw hundreds of people milling about, but none had the face his heart so longed to see. If he had been in his right mind, the bird's eye view would have been perfect for watching this comedy play out.
The governor stood, slumped dejectedly at the base of the Grand Staircase, looking for all the world as though he had already polished off a few brandy decanters and was on the hunt for another to numb the pain of fatherhood.
Geoffrey Eaton also looked a bit overtaxed, apparently trying to ignore the fact that he had a son by doing what he was best at: slinking about in the shadows, like the devil he was. And, as was usual, the younger Eaton was looking positively beside himself, but what was it this time?
Following the boy's line of sight, Jack's eyes fell upon her.
The mere sight of Natalie's beautiful face, flushed a rosy pink from the exertion and alight with laughter as she gracefully twirled about on the polished marble floor, set his foolish heart to sputtering and nearly sent him plummeting from his perch.
Her incredibly feminine form was sheathed in a frock of deep wine- colored jacquard, trimmed in cream lace and pale green ribbon, which he knew would only intensify the brilliant hue of her eyes. Natalie's deep auburn hair was pulled back in a loose chignon, but just like her, the glossy tresses refused to be tamed, and escaped down her back, like rivulets of crystalline water, every time she moved.
Even from afar, Natalie was had to be the loveliest creature his eyes had ever beheld, so much so that a part of him was thankful that he couldn't see her up close. His heart would have probably stopped cold dead in its place before dropping like a rock into the pit of his stomach. Still, that sounded like one hell of a way to die.
The prospect of death was suddenly wiped from his mind as a crippling fit of jealousy set in.
Anything, including visits from his great Aunt Beatrice, who used to enjoy pinching his face until it bled, and being drawn and quartered by the Fleet, had to be better than watching the woman of his dreams give the gift of her precious smile to someone other than himself.
Squinting in their general direction, Jack's eyes remained unflinching on the couple as they twirled about the ball room, but, alas, the vast distance between them and the fact that the blighter she held in her arms was facing in the opposite direction, afforded him a very poor view, indeed.
As if to stop the torture, some higher being intervened a few moments later and the dancers rotated, leaving Natalie's back to face him. His eyes soon fell upon the one man who could, and would be very much obliged, to efficiently end his life without batting an eyelash: Commodore James Norrington.
Jack damn near succumbed to the vapors at the sight of the ordinarily uptight, law-abiding, pinnacle of perfection, giggling like a besotted school boy as he gracefully glided over the floor with Natalie. If only the boys who ran the gallows could see this...
Part of him felt like laughing at the picture unfolding before his eyes, while another part wanted to ring the military man's neck, and still a very minute percentage of him, which lied outside the former realms, remained frozen with stupefied shock.
But before his brain could even register the trillions of conflicting thoughts that were running through his head, the soft, high- pitched clink of metal against a champagne flute ascended into the warm, moist air of the Caribbean night that had invaded the lofty room. An eerie silence befell the throng of people who crowded the floor as Geoffrey Eaton climbed up onto the orchestral platform at the base of the stairs and spoke his will.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," he began, "In this ever changing world, it is comforting to know that some things will stay forever constant; the greatest of all these things is undying love and affection.
"We are here tonight to honor two young souls, who were lucky enough to find such love right here in Port Royale, and are ready to share a lifetime together. Please help me in congratulating the beautiful Miss Natalie Swann and my boy, Master Clark Eaton!"
Natalie turned her wide, pleading eyes up to the Commodore, full of uncertainty as the smiling faces of complete strangers surrounded her, pushing her through to the front to meet her betrothed at the dais. That subversive twit had made the announcement early! He had ruined everything!
It was all James could do to just stand there, fighting the urge to drop dead. He knew what he had to do, and he had no intention of going back on his word, but the sudden nature of it all had him quaking in his impeccably polished boots. He was, after all, going to publicly end his life as a bachelor. Very publicly...
Raising his eyes above the rather large wigs of the men and women in front of him, his gaze settled on her, looking more like a prisoner waiting for death at the gallows than a woman waiting for her fiancé at a party. Furrowing his brow and taking a deep breath, he set her in his sights.
Looking out at the enormous mass of humanity that swayed ominously before her eyes, Natalie couldn't recall ever feeling the need to swoon before. In fact, she prided herself on her strong personal constitution, but this was simply too much for any one person to contend with.
"Pardon me!" came a shout from the bowels of the crowd, "I cannot allow this to continue!" The crowd assembled let out an audible gasp, in unison that she, given any other circumstances, would have marveled at, and turned to see who had called forth from their midst.
Natalie had a good idea of who it was, and a secretive smile crossed her lips as Commodore James Norrington emerged from the sea of people with the deftness of Moses and a spark of fire in his usually calm and disconnected demeanor.
Pushing some bystanders aside, he stepped up onto the carpeted stage to perform his little act for the wealthy of Jamaica. Stretching across a dejected Clark, he held his arm out to Natalie and pulled her close to his side.
"Master Eaton," he shouted, making sure he was loud enough for the kitchen staff to hear, "I'm afraid that it would be impossible for Miss Swann to even entertain the notion of wedded bliss with your son, for she had already agreed to marry me."
Immediately, the curious whisperings of the group exploded into cries of surprise, and nothing short of chaos ensued. Clark Eaton keeled over at the news, while his father erupted in a fit of rage. "Why you...you trollop! You were promised to my son!" Geoffrey cried, eventually working himself into such a tizzy that he could do nothing but stutter in her presence. Deciding that he would get nowhere fast with his insolent ex- daughter-in-law-to-be, he bellowed, "Weatherby!"
With the haze of the alcohol wearing thin, Weatherby Swann was confronted with a massive headache, rivaling any other known to man, and a screaming mob led by an absolutely livid Geoffrey Eaton.
"Will you tell that daughter of yours that she is to marry my son, once and for all!?" the man hollered, his face turning a deep red with frustration and anger, "It simply isn't fair! The Commodore proposed after Clark did, which means she belongs to him!"
The people huddled around the two men, waiting in nervous anticipation to hear the governor's rebuttal.
Raising his eyebrows until they vanished beneath his askew wig and squinting to bring the older man into focus, Weatherby murmured, "What's going on?"
From the throng of individuals that had surrounded him, he watched as his daughter, Natalie, emerged with the Commodore in tow. Her eyes trained downward, she said softly, "Father, James has asked for my hand in marriage, and I have consented. Since you had requested that I find a husband, I assume that the choice of the man I will spend a lifetime with is up to my discretion."
Slowly but surely, his daughter's emotional utterance penetrated the thinning haze of brandy around his brain and he replied, "The Commodore is a fine man, I have no objections." Turning to Geoffrey Eaton, who was doing a smashingly accurate impression of a dead carp at the moment, he added, "My apologies, old friend, but it is my daughter's decision."
Natalie could hardly believe what she was hearing! Finally, after all of these years, he was respecting her wishes! With a huge grin, she hurried over to her father and enveloped him in a hug. "I love you," she whispered.
* * * *
Letting go of the palace's eastern wall of stone, Jack fell for almost three feet before landing in a heap of shrubbery at its base. "Well, well," he said, brushing the palm fronds from his matted hair and the dirt from his already filthy woolen duster before rising to his feet once more, "Now I know why these parties are so hard to miss."
Realizing that anyone capable of turning him in was now crammed into the mausoleum, now shrinking behind him, he didn't even bother scaling the wall again, simply walking through the manor's gate and onto the cobbled streets of the poor man's Port Royal. But, of course, he hadn't yet walked four paces when he heard his name being shouted out and the sound of footsteps growing nearer.
Stopping, he watched as Elizabeth and Will emerged from the shadows and approached. "Hello again, Jack. Have you had your fill of voyeurism for the evening?" she asked with a teasing smile. It didn't take her long to recognize that something was amiss, and slowly her brow furrowed and her smile fizzled out. "Whatever is the matter?"
Jack sighed and raised his eyes to the sky for the umpteenth time that evening. He was so sick and tired of talking about feelings and other such drivel, so much so that he was contemplating having "Talk to me and die!" tattooed across his forehead. Sadly, that wouldn't even quiet the nosy Madame Turner.
"Nothing is the matter, Miss. I simply have a duty to my crew and leaving them floating in an enemy port on my vessel still makes me a bit uneasy," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's too bad that you came so late, though, you missed one hell of a good time. Now, if you'd excuse me."
Ignoring their protests, he muttered a quick "Farewell" and pushed past the happy couple, storming off in the direction of the Cara Mia to drown his sorrow in rum and the lull of the open ocean. It was utterly delightful to pretend that he was pleased about her betrothal to the bane of his existence, but, for Jack, it was easier said than done.
Natalie belonged here on land, surrounded by her family and her money, not on the ship of a pirate, surrounded by death and debauchery. He loved her more than he'd ever loved anything: more than the Cara Mia, more than his men, more than his own life.
That fact alone was enough to disturb him into letting her go without a fight.
* * * *