Disclaimer: C'mon...I believe that this horse has been mutilated beyond
recognition...You get the point...
Note:
Grrr! My ridiculously archaic piece of crud, also known as my computer, has decided to delete the chapter I had written and saved this past week and vacation in Disney has prevented me from updating in a more expedient manner, so I apologize. I have to re-write all of this, which blows more than a little, so please be kind when verbally bashing me for not having this chapter up quicker...I didn't do it purposely.
To Spaci1, I believe my "Elizabeth-was-an-amazing-character-but-was-so- poorly-used-in-the-movie" bias has come into play here, and I'm sorry. I suppose I also kicked up the sneering at the quintessential "Power Couple", that is Will and Liz, because it is how Natalie and Jack tend to view them...for the most part. Remember, it's only my opinion...lol
On with the madness, then! I'm saving this to sixty floppy disks! Hooray for technology!
Here's To Freedom (Chapter 27)
With an unusual, almost otherworldly, burst of agility, the Cara Mia pulled away from the Jamaican coast, charging ever onward in the wake of the Aibrean Maidin at the persistent urging of her captain. His brow furrowed in deep thought and his narrowed eyes unwavering on the lumbering vessel ahead, Jack Sparrow was a sight to see on that brilliant Caribbean morn.
Will found it absolutely incredible that, after all that the pair of them had been through together, he had never seen this side of his friend before. Looming over the helm with fire in his eyes and purpose in his soul, what he beheld was no longer just a man and his ship...they were one in the same now.
The world seemed to finally make sense, working with the harmonic efficiency of a well-timed watch as Mother Nature did her best to aid in Jack's quest.
The wind sent the Cara Mia bounding forward, filling her brilliant white sails beneath the glow of the early morning sun, which rose high in the pale blue sky, guiding their way. The rushing current worked with the oaken keel, rising to meet the worn, but wise, planks and helping the vessel to catch up to her enemy.
And yet, as sure as William Turner was standing there, all of this supernatural strength seemed to be ebbing from the calloused palms of the Captain, which gripped the spokes of that wheel like the warm hands of a trusted friend.
This is why Jack had so fervently pursued his beloved Pearl all those years ago.
This is why, time and again, he laid his own life on the line in pursuit of that endless horizon.
This is why he had settled for a life alone.
In that moment, William finally understood what he had been missing for so long in regards to the captain. The sea and that ship were Jack's home, Jack's family...Jack's life.
The only uncertainty that remained was whether or not Jack's life had room for the young lady who had so thoroughly pushed her way into his heart.
* * * *
"Are you sure you'll be alright, Miss?" Conlon asked, tossing a glance over his shoulder to the young woman who was following him as he led her into the hold by lamplight. A real pity, it was, to have to put such a lovely lady through this, all for politics.
"Oh, don't be silly," Natalie replied softly, almost feeling sorry for allowing him to garner so much sympathy towards her, "I'll be fine. If I could survive on the floating insane asylum that is Captain Jack Sparrow's vessel, I assure you that this will be no great undertaking." At his gruff chuckle, she smiled silently and added, "I thank you for your concern though, Conlon. You really are too kind to me."
The man blushed eight different shades of pink beneath the pale yellow glow of his lantern, before coming to a stop in front of Clark Eaton's cell and digging out his ring of keys. With a few clinks in the darkness, the door swung open, its squeak echoing in the silent hull, and Conlon stepped aside to allow her entry.
Natalie murmured her thanks as she ducked into the reasonably sized cubicle, when, suddenly, a cry that sounded for all the world like that of a pig in slaughter reverberated through the stillness. Conlon quickly lifted the lamp to illuminate the area once more, and she barely fought the urge to groan aloud at the sight of Clark, eyes wide with fear and hair mussed from sleep, balled up in the corner of the cell with his knees pulled tight to his chest like a small child.
"What in God's name are you shouting for? Are you daft?" Conlon hissed, hoping the captain hadn't heard the whiny, nancy-pants (thanx, Kiz) from her perch on deck. His lower back had been acting a bit temperamental lately and dragging out the damn plank would absolutely be hell on earth for his creaking bones...
The young man had visibly been taken down a peg from before, and both the deck hand and the lady standing before him could hardly vouch for their own sanity when he softly replied, "Terribly sorry, sir, please don't shoot me!"
Furrowing his brow, Conlon eyed the sap curiously. Of course he wasn't going to shoot him, but there was no use in spoiling the lad's fun anyway... With a masculine growl, he locked the door, bid them a gruff good night, and hurried above deck before the laughter overtook him.
Alone in the dark together, with their only source of light being the pale moonlight spilling through some cracks in the weathered oak, Natalie felt none of the romance...only seething disdain for the individual cowering beside her. "Oh, dear Lord! Clark, get a hold of yourself! You are making this even more unbearable than it has to be!" she muttered with an exasperated sigh.
Natalie was answered with nothing but silence, at first, so she slowly turned her head towards the part of the cell he inhabited, finding him quaking under the thin veil of light that blanketed the hull. Softly, he asked, "Why do you feel such anger towards me, Natalie, darling. I've been nothing but kind to you, and yet I still seem to garner nothing but your hatred."
If she had still been completely unaware of all of the lies Clark had spun around her and her family, Natalie probably would have felt guilty for hurting his feelings, but looking at him in that moment, she found him nothing short of pitiful. "You are a lying cad, Master Eaton, and any affection you have directed towards me has been false. I never wanted to marry you, and I still don't plan to." Raising her chin in defiance, she added, "I would rather be dead."
To this, Clark remained silent which only served to drive her fury to the boiling point. "Why did you do this to me?" she asked, her voice soft, but obviously holding back some louder, and more dangerous, emotions.
With an exasperated sigh, the young man shook his head and brought his eyes to focus on the hinged door directly in front of him. "Well, Miss Swann, you just might get your wish. We could be dead by tomorrow, if this crew's behavior is any indication--"
"Will you stop avoiding this, and give me a bloody answer?" Natalie hissed, her voice cracking with the potent combination of feelings his words had aroused.
His hands balled into fists at his side and his eyes flew to hers with growing frustration. "Well, you know what, Miss Swann," Clark began, "Not everything is as simple as you would care to think. We needed the money, and you needed a husband. My father pounced, what on Earth was I supposed to do?"
Picking up a rounded stone from the floor beside him, he tossed it into the darkness before him, muttering, "It all seemed perfect at the time. If I had only known I would end up at the receiving end of this rubbish I would have put myself out of my misery long ago."
Natalie sat there, completely bewildered. He was being honest with her...finally...and she couldn't help respecting him for it, even if it was only a tiny bit. Nodding slowly, she replied, "Well, if we have even the slightest prayer of getting out of here alive, we must join forces."
"I would have to agree with you," he replied, shuddering as his ears detected a few squeaks and some scurrying movements across the hall outside of their cell. MICE! It took every ounce of restraint in his person to keep from fainting dead away.
"Clark, I believe I have a plan..."
* * * *
Sorry it is just some filler, I've been writing this at school because my computer BLOWS...I will try my damnedest to get the next chapter out in an expedient fashion.
Arrividerci!
Love, Mimi
Note:
Grrr! My ridiculously archaic piece of crud, also known as my computer, has decided to delete the chapter I had written and saved this past week and vacation in Disney has prevented me from updating in a more expedient manner, so I apologize. I have to re-write all of this, which blows more than a little, so please be kind when verbally bashing me for not having this chapter up quicker...I didn't do it purposely.
To Spaci1, I believe my "Elizabeth-was-an-amazing-character-but-was-so- poorly-used-in-the-movie" bias has come into play here, and I'm sorry. I suppose I also kicked up the sneering at the quintessential "Power Couple", that is Will and Liz, because it is how Natalie and Jack tend to view them...for the most part. Remember, it's only my opinion...lol
On with the madness, then! I'm saving this to sixty floppy disks! Hooray for technology!
Here's To Freedom (Chapter 27)
With an unusual, almost otherworldly, burst of agility, the Cara Mia pulled away from the Jamaican coast, charging ever onward in the wake of the Aibrean Maidin at the persistent urging of her captain. His brow furrowed in deep thought and his narrowed eyes unwavering on the lumbering vessel ahead, Jack Sparrow was a sight to see on that brilliant Caribbean morn.
Will found it absolutely incredible that, after all that the pair of them had been through together, he had never seen this side of his friend before. Looming over the helm with fire in his eyes and purpose in his soul, what he beheld was no longer just a man and his ship...they were one in the same now.
The world seemed to finally make sense, working with the harmonic efficiency of a well-timed watch as Mother Nature did her best to aid in Jack's quest.
The wind sent the Cara Mia bounding forward, filling her brilliant white sails beneath the glow of the early morning sun, which rose high in the pale blue sky, guiding their way. The rushing current worked with the oaken keel, rising to meet the worn, but wise, planks and helping the vessel to catch up to her enemy.
And yet, as sure as William Turner was standing there, all of this supernatural strength seemed to be ebbing from the calloused palms of the Captain, which gripped the spokes of that wheel like the warm hands of a trusted friend.
This is why Jack had so fervently pursued his beloved Pearl all those years ago.
This is why, time and again, he laid his own life on the line in pursuit of that endless horizon.
This is why he had settled for a life alone.
In that moment, William finally understood what he had been missing for so long in regards to the captain. The sea and that ship were Jack's home, Jack's family...Jack's life.
The only uncertainty that remained was whether or not Jack's life had room for the young lady who had so thoroughly pushed her way into his heart.
* * * *
"Are you sure you'll be alright, Miss?" Conlon asked, tossing a glance over his shoulder to the young woman who was following him as he led her into the hold by lamplight. A real pity, it was, to have to put such a lovely lady through this, all for politics.
"Oh, don't be silly," Natalie replied softly, almost feeling sorry for allowing him to garner so much sympathy towards her, "I'll be fine. If I could survive on the floating insane asylum that is Captain Jack Sparrow's vessel, I assure you that this will be no great undertaking." At his gruff chuckle, she smiled silently and added, "I thank you for your concern though, Conlon. You really are too kind to me."
The man blushed eight different shades of pink beneath the pale yellow glow of his lantern, before coming to a stop in front of Clark Eaton's cell and digging out his ring of keys. With a few clinks in the darkness, the door swung open, its squeak echoing in the silent hull, and Conlon stepped aside to allow her entry.
Natalie murmured her thanks as she ducked into the reasonably sized cubicle, when, suddenly, a cry that sounded for all the world like that of a pig in slaughter reverberated through the stillness. Conlon quickly lifted the lamp to illuminate the area once more, and she barely fought the urge to groan aloud at the sight of Clark, eyes wide with fear and hair mussed from sleep, balled up in the corner of the cell with his knees pulled tight to his chest like a small child.
"What in God's name are you shouting for? Are you daft?" Conlon hissed, hoping the captain hadn't heard the whiny, nancy-pants (thanx, Kiz) from her perch on deck. His lower back had been acting a bit temperamental lately and dragging out the damn plank would absolutely be hell on earth for his creaking bones...
The young man had visibly been taken down a peg from before, and both the deck hand and the lady standing before him could hardly vouch for their own sanity when he softly replied, "Terribly sorry, sir, please don't shoot me!"
Furrowing his brow, Conlon eyed the sap curiously. Of course he wasn't going to shoot him, but there was no use in spoiling the lad's fun anyway... With a masculine growl, he locked the door, bid them a gruff good night, and hurried above deck before the laughter overtook him.
Alone in the dark together, with their only source of light being the pale moonlight spilling through some cracks in the weathered oak, Natalie felt none of the romance...only seething disdain for the individual cowering beside her. "Oh, dear Lord! Clark, get a hold of yourself! You are making this even more unbearable than it has to be!" she muttered with an exasperated sigh.
Natalie was answered with nothing but silence, at first, so she slowly turned her head towards the part of the cell he inhabited, finding him quaking under the thin veil of light that blanketed the hull. Softly, he asked, "Why do you feel such anger towards me, Natalie, darling. I've been nothing but kind to you, and yet I still seem to garner nothing but your hatred."
If she had still been completely unaware of all of the lies Clark had spun around her and her family, Natalie probably would have felt guilty for hurting his feelings, but looking at him in that moment, she found him nothing short of pitiful. "You are a lying cad, Master Eaton, and any affection you have directed towards me has been false. I never wanted to marry you, and I still don't plan to." Raising her chin in defiance, she added, "I would rather be dead."
To this, Clark remained silent which only served to drive her fury to the boiling point. "Why did you do this to me?" she asked, her voice soft, but obviously holding back some louder, and more dangerous, emotions.
With an exasperated sigh, the young man shook his head and brought his eyes to focus on the hinged door directly in front of him. "Well, Miss Swann, you just might get your wish. We could be dead by tomorrow, if this crew's behavior is any indication--"
"Will you stop avoiding this, and give me a bloody answer?" Natalie hissed, her voice cracking with the potent combination of feelings his words had aroused.
His hands balled into fists at his side and his eyes flew to hers with growing frustration. "Well, you know what, Miss Swann," Clark began, "Not everything is as simple as you would care to think. We needed the money, and you needed a husband. My father pounced, what on Earth was I supposed to do?"
Picking up a rounded stone from the floor beside him, he tossed it into the darkness before him, muttering, "It all seemed perfect at the time. If I had only known I would end up at the receiving end of this rubbish I would have put myself out of my misery long ago."
Natalie sat there, completely bewildered. He was being honest with her...finally...and she couldn't help respecting him for it, even if it was only a tiny bit. Nodding slowly, she replied, "Well, if we have even the slightest prayer of getting out of here alive, we must join forces."
"I would have to agree with you," he replied, shuddering as his ears detected a few squeaks and some scurrying movements across the hall outside of their cell. MICE! It took every ounce of restraint in his person to keep from fainting dead away.
"Clark, I believe I have a plan..."
* * * *
Sorry it is just some filler, I've been writing this at school because my computer BLOWS...I will try my damnedest to get the next chapter out in an expedient fashion.
Arrividerci!
Love, Mimi