Spun

Part Six

by : epiphanies

-

Aurolyn found shade underneath the mast. She wiped her brow inconspicuously and glanced around the ship, lifting her peach-coloured dress from the sloppy deck boards.

Jack had returned to his place at the rear of the ship, and at the moment he was speaking to a vast man with viciously striped socks.

Aurolyn raised her eyebrows as Jack narrowed his eyes at the other pirate and poked him in the chest. She frowned as he turned away in a sweeping move and smiled broadly at the only other woman on the ship - Aurolyn hadn't noticed her before. She was tall and willowy, with dark skin and darker eyes. She had obviously been raised on board the Black Pearl.

The dark woman nodded briskly to Jack, and jumped off of the top deck. She headed toward Aurolyn.

Aurolyn's eyes widened and she shrunk further back into the shadow of the mast. As the woman swept by, she said, "Captain wants you below deck."

Aurolyn blinked, and stepped out to face her, as she was walking away.

"Why?"

She whirled around and landed her gaze on Aurolyn's dress. She smirked.

"He wants a word."

"What's your name?" she asked as the woman began to turn away. Craning her dark neck, the woman answered,

"Anamaria."

"Aurolyn."

Anamaria headed to the bow of the ship, "Aye."

-

Below deck was smellier than above deck. At least there was a pleasant breeze on the main deck. Just when Aurolyn was afraid she wouldn't be able to stand it much longer, Jack stepped down, a streak of sun illuminating his Caribbean-baked cheeks. He eyed her miserable look and chuckled.

"You think being a pirate would be glamourous, darling?"

Aurolyn quirked an eyebrow. He quirked one right back, then jerkily motioned his head upward.

"Come on, now. I'll show you where the real heart of 'er is."

-

Aurolyn didn't want to tell Jack that she knew every nook and cranny of his bed chamber. After all, she wasn't supposed to be having dreams about his affair with her mother.

As the heavy door swung open and Jack spread his arms frivolously, a thought occurred to her that hadn't.

She couldn't be Jack's daughter.... could she?

He noticed her widened eyes and touched her arm gently.

"M'dear?" his eyebrows creased together, and she looked up at him wildly.

"What year were you mutineered?"

His eyebrows disappeared into his hairline as the Captain took a shaky step backward, letting go of her forearm. He surveyed her, top to bottom.

"Why would you think that?"

She stared at him, nearly as shaken as he was. She drew an unsteady breath and clasped her hand to her flat, buckled tum.

"Aurolyn?" he gazed at her through deep brown eyes, gaining his footing again and reaching for her. She was the one who backed away this time. He pulled back, obviously hurt.

"Jack, I-"

His lips were set as he shook his head slightly to himself and turned, marching out of the bed chamber. She was left there, alone.

Her head was spinning.

How could it have not occurred to her before? How could she not have realized that if her mother and Jack had been in a relationship, of some substance, that she could very well be...well, not who she thought she was?

She slumped onto the crimson sheeted bed and laid down on her back, feet dangling over the sides. A tear slipped down her cheek and into her hair. She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath through her nostrils, trying to calm herself.

-

Meanwhile, Jack decided to have a heart-to-heart with a dear old friend - one who wouldn't be afraid to slap him if he was impertinent. He needed an objective judge.

As they settled down in the kitchen with a pint of rum each, Jack raised his and said, "To crazy young lasses, who show up out of nowhere and tangle your brains until you don't know left from right."

He had been expecting her to glare at him, but instead, a little gleam awakened in her eyes.

"What?" he pouted, putting down his drink and gazing at it disappointedly.

"Jack," Anamaria's eyes narrowed, "Don't you notice how much that girl looks like-"

"Of course I noticed," Jack said serenely, "Why else would I have toasted to her like that?"

"Well, you're obviously 'fected by her, aren't yeh?" she growled, motioning at his hands, "You've not taken a sip yet."

He raised his eyebrows and downed half of the mug, then smiled satisfyingly at her. She rolled her eyes, and he chuckled.

"Weren't you just worried about something?" she said heavily, and he shrugged slightly.

"What rum's good for, darling."

She caught his arm as it raised for a final swig.

"What is it?" he said impatiently, and she glared at him (finally, he thought.)

"Why aren't you telling me?"

Jack frowned at her and placed his drink loudly on the rickety table,

"Telling you what?"

"About her, you bloody lunatic. Did you know about her, before?"

"Before what?"

"Before you met her, for bloody's sake! Oi, Jack, what's cutting you loose?"

Jack slammed down his drink again, and took both of her arms in his hands from across the table.

"Listen to me, Anamaria. Now, I've no bloody clue what you're prattling on about, and I'm a little might drunk. So, let's skip all of this extravagant nonsense and get to the point you're trying to make."

She glared at him.

"Er..." he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at the ceiling, "Now....what was the point you were trying to make?"

"Soddin' hell, Jack," she wrenched herself out of his grip and brushed herself off as she stood, "I just wanted to know about your ruddy daughter, is all."

Jack then fell promptly off of his chair.