Disclaimer: See Chapter one.
My reviewers are amazing! I thank each and every one of you. And yes, here is your chapter that I owe for not posting all week. Um, does anyone know why when I do italics they don't transfer to ff.net? Just wondering...in case anyone knew off the top of his/her head...
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Chapter 5: Ana's tale
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July 11
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"Quaint," Will Turner commented as the trio was shoved into a hut. His eyes took in the mound of skins serving as a bed, the fireplace and the shrine. His gaze reached a small sack and lingered on a glittering edge. Not heeding Elizabeth's warnings, Will strode over to it and pulled it from its home, testing the balance. He knew this sword well; he had himself given it to Anamaria as a parting gift.
Jack had gazed around him an d sank down on the furs, limbs grateful for the rest.
"What do you suppose she'll do to us?" Elizabeth asked rather timidly, nibbling anxious on a long fingernail.
Her unasked question, that which was resting upon each one's lips seemed to be: what now? They had found Anamaria, obviously in good keeping, so now what their next maneuver? Eyes shifted to the pirate captain, who began to smirk. "I daresay I'm in for a good scoldin' an' a slap at the very least," Jack remarked. However, from the weary veil he had seen earlier drawn over her eyes, he was doubtful.
Elizabeth settled herself gracefully on the packed dirt floor as Will began to idly practice his footwork with the blade. Light footsteps sounded outside, and the burlap flap acting as a door was pushed back. Anamaria stepped quietly into the room, not meeting any of the occupants' eyes. "Ye must be thirsty," she muttered, brandishing a jug and pouring it into three crude mugs. Not water, for it was a rarity in the dry season, but cool milk.
A heavy silence fell over the hut, dark and ominous. After several moments, Jimoh poked his head in, his dirt-streaked face beaming cheerfully at Will and Elizabeth, "Would you like a tour?" he exclaimed exuberantly. Immediately, the couple accepted and fled the hut, leaving the pirate captain and the princess in loud silence,
Ana carefully bent her slender frame to sit on the floor, "What do you want?" she asked briskly, as if his presence was that of a pestering wasp.
Jack pursed his lips and sat up straighter, assuming his business-like presence. "What I want," Jack stated as if it was as clear as the brilliant Carribbean waters, "Is me Spanish coin."
Ana's surprised gaze swung around to his, and for just a moment her eyes glimmered with their familiar spark. One eye brow arched incredulously, and despite his grave tone, the corners of her mouth twitched. "Ye chased me across the bloody ocean to some Godforsaken village for yer coin, which ye gave to me as a gift as it were?"
Jack's eyes narrowed as if he had only just now considered the logic of it and one of his hands fluttered to play against his chin, "Aye."
Ana shook her head in astonishment and ran her fingertips over her braided hair, carefully removing the headdress which suddenly felt far too heavy on her temples. The coin burned at her side. "Got a lot of nerve, ye do, Sparrow."
"Aye," he agreed with a gold glinted smile.
"Ye've misplace it," she told him patiently, crossing her bangled arms against her chest. Jack scooted across the floor until he sat directly across from her, separated only by a foot of heavy air. He squeezed his eyes shut and tipped his face heavenward.
Ana leaned back on her heels, studying him. He must have grown more daft in her absence, she concluded. "What in blue blazes are ye doin'?"
The pirate peeked one eye cautiously open, "Go 'head. Get the slappin' over with." He then squeezed his eyes shut again and clenched his jaw in anticipation.
Very patiently, Ana sighed. Jack Sparrow would see none of her fire. That was what he had come for, she knew, that old spitfire pirate Anamaria. She had faded.
"No slappin'?" he asked finally, not opening his eyes.
"I'll find somewhere for the three o'ye to sleep and have a meal brought in. It's too late t'head back now," Ana rose to her feet, heading towards the door, choosing not to answer his question.
"Whoa!" Jack exclaimed, "No 'Jack, damn ye to hell, ye daft fool' an' so on? No slappin'? What's this?" Nimbly, Jack moved faster than her, grabbing her wrist and preventing her departure. He wagged a finger in her face, inspecting her solemn countenance, making it so there was barely inches between them.
"Things have changed. I've changed."
"Bloody 'ell!" Jack yelled, throwing up his hands, "It's the scenery that that's changed, the company that's changed. Not ye—Not I! Ye'll always be my—"he broke off, his face changing to that of a sullen child.
"I've seen things, heard things. . ." she shook her head, "I'm tired, Jack. I can't do this. I have t'do this."
"Ana, I—"Jack stared, seizing her hands.
The burlap flap flew open and the soon to be Turners bounded into the tent, Elizabeth clutching a small, brown-skinned toddler in her arms, Jimoh close behind. "Jack, you have to see—"Will started to say, cutting himself off.
Ana gently plucked his fingertips from her wrist, "Ah, I see ye have met me cousin, Reth," she told Elizabeth warmly. The little boy began to squirm, and, looking alarmed, Elizabeth quickly handed him to Ana, who deftly rested him on her hip, soothing him in his hushed language. The three occupants besides Jimoh gaped at her.
"How did ye—?" Jack stred.
Ana cut him off with a hostile look, "My son, remember Captain?"
"Ah," Jack sighed his countenance betraying nothing. The remaining three fair-skinned spectators were looking from one to the other, faces etched with confusion, bursting with questions.
"I think you have a story for your visitors, Malika," Jimoh said knowingly. Reluctantly, Ana handed the boy to him and gestured for Will, Elizabeth and Jack to come closer. Jimoh left, and the four settled themselves on the floor.
Ana fiddled with her braids, reaching for a leather strap to keep them back from her face. Finally she met the curious stares of her visitors, "What do ye know of zombies?"
Elizabeth frowned, "Why, that's im—"
"Improbable," Jack interrupted, gesturing for Ana to continue.
"That's what I thought," Ana admitted, "Until I saw it fro meself."
"You think there are zombies here?" Will broke in with an incredulous look. Jack narrowed his eyes menacingly at the boy.
Ana sighed, "I knew this was pointless," she muttered then raised her voice, "Go back to yer ships and the Carribbean. Forget that I saw anythin'."
"No," Jack protested, crossing his arms across his chest. He shot a hostile look back at Will and Elizabeth. "A year ago ye didn't believe in curses," he reminded them.
"I'm sorry, Anamaria," Elizabeth broke in, elbowing her fiancée in the ribs. Will looked reproachful and muttered an apology with a strangled grunt.
"When I first came here, they said there was evil," Ana continued. "Then the first night, a woman named Hija, a good friend o'me aunt, disappeared. I was horrified, but none thought much o'it. Two nights later, I woke up to screams."
Ana explained listlessly how she had rushed out of her tent to find the villagers in a panic and a group of armed people advancing towards the village, on of them being Hija. They had tried to stop the group, but each seemed to be in a trance. They had even attempted to attack the attacking party to no avail.
"So it's like Barbosa," Will piped in, "They're immortal."
Ana grinned dryly, "More like they're already dead."
Jack choked on the liquid he had raised to his lips and coughed, "Come again?"
"They're dead, caput, finito, no more, d—"
"No, no, I've changed me mind. I get it," Jack said quickly, interrupting her.
"But how is that possible?" Elizabeth asked practically. "If you're dead, then you're dead."
"Not. . .if ye've been cursed by a voodoo practitioner," Jack interrupted, raising his hand to emphasize his pint, looking gravely serious. He tapped his forefinger against his chin, falling silent.
"Yes," Ana said slowly, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully, "How did ye--?"
"I heard lots o'stories, lass, durin' me time at sea an' ports. Sometimes the fiction be the facts a little twisted, that's all. Ye learned to read between the lines."
"Last night," Ana went on, "Reth's older brother Chike was taken. We didn't find out 'til just a bit ago, prob'ly why ye received such a welcome. Left a message, too," she added unwillingly after a moment's pause.
Jack's smudged black-rimmed eyes shifting to hers, urging her to continue, "An' this would say. . .?"
"It was a threat," Ana elaborated, her eyes narrowing at him, her expression neutral as she shifted uncomfortably.
"I figured,' Jack drawled, matching her stare, "An' it said. . .?" he prodded again.
"With the sacrifice of Malika will the slaughter and arisings cease," Jimoh recited mechanically from where he had stepped unnoticed into the hut, kneeling on the ground.
"An' ye would be. . ." Jack paused, his gaze and gesturing hands swinging back to Anamaria, "Malika."
"Aye," she agreed, idly reaching behind her and plucking a bone dagger from the wall, running her fingers along the blade as if the turn of conversation was of no consequence to her at all.
"Oh," Elizabeth sighed, looking rather horrified, "Well, that isn't a possibility," she said after a long moment, elbowing the pirate captain on her other side in the gut.
"Aye," he grunted, "It is." Elizabth glared at him and he looked confused, "I mean it isn't. I mean. . .whatever she said," Jack rambled, gesturing frantically to Elizabeth.
"We need to get you away, Malika, for your protection," Jimoh spoke up, drawing Anamaria's lethal glare away from Jack Sparrow.
"Aye," Jack chimed in, "Back to the Caribbean, love."
"No!" Ana burst in, not sure whom she was more angry with, "Ye," she motioned to Jimoh, "I expected more faith from ye. I won't abandon these people, not now. Ye should bloody well know that." She turned her trembling finger to Jack Sparrow and spat, "And ye—ye mangy hypocrite of a dog, ye vow ye won't be me back aboard yer fine ship, but here ye are again, followin' me and expectin' me to follow ye! Tell me why that be, Jack Sparrow!"
"Ye can't do anythin' here but die for 'em, Ana," Jack pointed out logically, skirting her accusation, his tone smirking.
"I want ye to stop, Jack. Stop this madness and go back to yer fine ship an d yer fine life and yer fine friends. Let me be!"
Ana stormed out of the tent, the three pirates and missionary left to stare after her. Jack finally sighed and rolled his eyes, fishing into his deep pocketed jacket, "A'right, a hand o'cards to decide who goes after 'er?"
An echoing slap permeated through the hut walls and Elizabeth stormed out, an indignant "Ouch!" following her swish of skirts.
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Anamaria spotted Nyako speaking to her aunt, Shangazi as Ana called her, and joined them both, bowing to the older woman as a sign of respect, greeting them.
"I heard you had some visitors, Malika. White like bone, I am told," Shangazi said wisely in Himba, her wrinkled hands clasped before her.
"Yes, Shangazi," Ana replied in the same language, "They are. . .were friends from the islands."
"The 'Captain Jack Sparrow' was very handsome," Nyako said in the same language, grinning broadly and raising her eyebrows suggestively at Anamaria.
"Aye, an' he knows it," Ana muttered in English. Both women looked questioningly at her, but she shrugged it off, saying it was unimportant.
"Do not forget our agreement, my dear," Shangazi reminded her gently, pressing her hands to Ana's shoulders and leaving the two girls.
"I am sorry," Ana told Nyako mournfully, "For your brother."
"Chike was a good person and could have been a good husband," Nyoko said tranquilly with a gentle sigh, "He will be embraced by the ancestors."
"Ana!" Ana and Nyako turned as a swirl of grey fabric ran up to them. "I mean, Malika," Elizabeth corrected quickly, "Forgive me."
"It's no matter," Anamaria told her with a careless shrug, "Nyako, Miss Swann," Ana made the introductions quickly while each stared curiously at the other's attire. "Why are ye here, Elizabeth?" Ana asked finally, it coming out harsher than she'd intended.
Elizabeth winced, "It's complicated. I needed to get out, get away from all the coddling. It's my only chance," she explained embarrassedly.
Ana allowed herself to smile at the girl, "Aye, it's acceptable." She paused, and then blurted out, "But why is Jack--?"
Ana put her hand on Ana shoulder and grinned, interrupting her, "That, you'll have to ask him yourself, Malika."
Ana's hands balled into fists at the constant title and lack of information. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by an all too familiar drawl in her ear, "Who's yer pretty friend, love?"
Jack had put his arm around her waist which she promptly slapped away and was smirking suggestively at Nyako. His eyes lingered on her bare chest, which nearly all women villagers revealed and thought nothing of it. He sidled up beside Nyako.
"Me cousin," Ana ground out.
Nyako looked somewhat flattered as Jack threw his arm around her shoulders, kissing her cheek and drawing little patterns on her bare skin. Ana's blood boiled and she was ready to slug Jack when he whispered something in Nyako's ear. Ana watched triumphantly as Nyako's hand shot out and slapped his cheek soundly before yelling something back at him and she strode away. Ana laughed.
Jack appeared confused and put out for only a second before sashaying to Ana's side, waggling his eyebrows. "Ana, how come ye don't wear clothes like that, eh?"
Her eyes narrowed and Jack clamped his hands over his cheeks, knowing he was in for a slap. He yelled indignantly as he received not one, but two smacks against the back of his head. His eyes flew open to see Ana's retreating back and Elizabeth glaring daggers and him before storming away.
"Bloody females," he muttered.
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It was late at night when Ana finally settled in to sleep, lashing her burlap closed and making sure her knife was securely tied to her thigh. She had not exchanged words with Jack Sparrow since his. . .introduction to Nyako. She wondered briefly if she should mention Nyako's lover to Jack and quickly squelched the thought. She had, however, had conversations with the young future Turrners about their seemingly eventful voyage.
She lay her head down on the mat, the first thought arising in her mind asking herself how things had been so severely altered so quickly. Her exhausted thoughts, infuriated and hurting, switched back to Jack Sparrow.
Bloody . . .pirate . . .
It seemed that Ana had barely closed her eyes when she awoke with a start to the sound of screaming and scent of smoke.
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My reviewers are amazing! I thank each and every one of you. And yes, here is your chapter that I owe for not posting all week. Um, does anyone know why when I do italics they don't transfer to ff.net? Just wondering...in case anyone knew off the top of his/her head...
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Chapter 5: Ana's tale
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July 11
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"Quaint," Will Turner commented as the trio was shoved into a hut. His eyes took in the mound of skins serving as a bed, the fireplace and the shrine. His gaze reached a small sack and lingered on a glittering edge. Not heeding Elizabeth's warnings, Will strode over to it and pulled it from its home, testing the balance. He knew this sword well; he had himself given it to Anamaria as a parting gift.
Jack had gazed around him an d sank down on the furs, limbs grateful for the rest.
"What do you suppose she'll do to us?" Elizabeth asked rather timidly, nibbling anxious on a long fingernail.
Her unasked question, that which was resting upon each one's lips seemed to be: what now? They had found Anamaria, obviously in good keeping, so now what their next maneuver? Eyes shifted to the pirate captain, who began to smirk. "I daresay I'm in for a good scoldin' an' a slap at the very least," Jack remarked. However, from the weary veil he had seen earlier drawn over her eyes, he was doubtful.
Elizabeth settled herself gracefully on the packed dirt floor as Will began to idly practice his footwork with the blade. Light footsteps sounded outside, and the burlap flap acting as a door was pushed back. Anamaria stepped quietly into the room, not meeting any of the occupants' eyes. "Ye must be thirsty," she muttered, brandishing a jug and pouring it into three crude mugs. Not water, for it was a rarity in the dry season, but cool milk.
A heavy silence fell over the hut, dark and ominous. After several moments, Jimoh poked his head in, his dirt-streaked face beaming cheerfully at Will and Elizabeth, "Would you like a tour?" he exclaimed exuberantly. Immediately, the couple accepted and fled the hut, leaving the pirate captain and the princess in loud silence,
Ana carefully bent her slender frame to sit on the floor, "What do you want?" she asked briskly, as if his presence was that of a pestering wasp.
Jack pursed his lips and sat up straighter, assuming his business-like presence. "What I want," Jack stated as if it was as clear as the brilliant Carribbean waters, "Is me Spanish coin."
Ana's surprised gaze swung around to his, and for just a moment her eyes glimmered with their familiar spark. One eye brow arched incredulously, and despite his grave tone, the corners of her mouth twitched. "Ye chased me across the bloody ocean to some Godforsaken village for yer coin, which ye gave to me as a gift as it were?"
Jack's eyes narrowed as if he had only just now considered the logic of it and one of his hands fluttered to play against his chin, "Aye."
Ana shook her head in astonishment and ran her fingertips over her braided hair, carefully removing the headdress which suddenly felt far too heavy on her temples. The coin burned at her side. "Got a lot of nerve, ye do, Sparrow."
"Aye," he agreed with a gold glinted smile.
"Ye've misplace it," she told him patiently, crossing her bangled arms against her chest. Jack scooted across the floor until he sat directly across from her, separated only by a foot of heavy air. He squeezed his eyes shut and tipped his face heavenward.
Ana leaned back on her heels, studying him. He must have grown more daft in her absence, she concluded. "What in blue blazes are ye doin'?"
The pirate peeked one eye cautiously open, "Go 'head. Get the slappin' over with." He then squeezed his eyes shut again and clenched his jaw in anticipation.
Very patiently, Ana sighed. Jack Sparrow would see none of her fire. That was what he had come for, she knew, that old spitfire pirate Anamaria. She had faded.
"No slappin'?" he asked finally, not opening his eyes.
"I'll find somewhere for the three o'ye to sleep and have a meal brought in. It's too late t'head back now," Ana rose to her feet, heading towards the door, choosing not to answer his question.
"Whoa!" Jack exclaimed, "No 'Jack, damn ye to hell, ye daft fool' an' so on? No slappin'? What's this?" Nimbly, Jack moved faster than her, grabbing her wrist and preventing her departure. He wagged a finger in her face, inspecting her solemn countenance, making it so there was barely inches between them.
"Things have changed. I've changed."
"Bloody 'ell!" Jack yelled, throwing up his hands, "It's the scenery that that's changed, the company that's changed. Not ye—Not I! Ye'll always be my—"he broke off, his face changing to that of a sullen child.
"I've seen things, heard things. . ." she shook her head, "I'm tired, Jack. I can't do this. I have t'do this."
"Ana, I—"Jack stared, seizing her hands.
The burlap flap flew open and the soon to be Turners bounded into the tent, Elizabeth clutching a small, brown-skinned toddler in her arms, Jimoh close behind. "Jack, you have to see—"Will started to say, cutting himself off.
Ana gently plucked his fingertips from her wrist, "Ah, I see ye have met me cousin, Reth," she told Elizabeth warmly. The little boy began to squirm, and, looking alarmed, Elizabeth quickly handed him to Ana, who deftly rested him on her hip, soothing him in his hushed language. The three occupants besides Jimoh gaped at her.
"How did ye—?" Jack stred.
Ana cut him off with a hostile look, "My son, remember Captain?"
"Ah," Jack sighed his countenance betraying nothing. The remaining three fair-skinned spectators were looking from one to the other, faces etched with confusion, bursting with questions.
"I think you have a story for your visitors, Malika," Jimoh said knowingly. Reluctantly, Ana handed the boy to him and gestured for Will, Elizabeth and Jack to come closer. Jimoh left, and the four settled themselves on the floor.
Ana fiddled with her braids, reaching for a leather strap to keep them back from her face. Finally she met the curious stares of her visitors, "What do ye know of zombies?"
Elizabeth frowned, "Why, that's im—"
"Improbable," Jack interrupted, gesturing for Ana to continue.
"That's what I thought," Ana admitted, "Until I saw it fro meself."
"You think there are zombies here?" Will broke in with an incredulous look. Jack narrowed his eyes menacingly at the boy.
Ana sighed, "I knew this was pointless," she muttered then raised her voice, "Go back to yer ships and the Carribbean. Forget that I saw anythin'."
"No," Jack protested, crossing his arms across his chest. He shot a hostile look back at Will and Elizabeth. "A year ago ye didn't believe in curses," he reminded them.
"I'm sorry, Anamaria," Elizabeth broke in, elbowing her fiancée in the ribs. Will looked reproachful and muttered an apology with a strangled grunt.
"When I first came here, they said there was evil," Ana continued. "Then the first night, a woman named Hija, a good friend o'me aunt, disappeared. I was horrified, but none thought much o'it. Two nights later, I woke up to screams."
Ana explained listlessly how she had rushed out of her tent to find the villagers in a panic and a group of armed people advancing towards the village, on of them being Hija. They had tried to stop the group, but each seemed to be in a trance. They had even attempted to attack the attacking party to no avail.
"So it's like Barbosa," Will piped in, "They're immortal."
Ana grinned dryly, "More like they're already dead."
Jack choked on the liquid he had raised to his lips and coughed, "Come again?"
"They're dead, caput, finito, no more, d—"
"No, no, I've changed me mind. I get it," Jack said quickly, interrupting her.
"But how is that possible?" Elizabeth asked practically. "If you're dead, then you're dead."
"Not. . .if ye've been cursed by a voodoo practitioner," Jack interrupted, raising his hand to emphasize his pint, looking gravely serious. He tapped his forefinger against his chin, falling silent.
"Yes," Ana said slowly, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully, "How did ye--?"
"I heard lots o'stories, lass, durin' me time at sea an' ports. Sometimes the fiction be the facts a little twisted, that's all. Ye learned to read between the lines."
"Last night," Ana went on, "Reth's older brother Chike was taken. We didn't find out 'til just a bit ago, prob'ly why ye received such a welcome. Left a message, too," she added unwillingly after a moment's pause.
Jack's smudged black-rimmed eyes shifting to hers, urging her to continue, "An' this would say. . .?"
"It was a threat," Ana elaborated, her eyes narrowing at him, her expression neutral as she shifted uncomfortably.
"I figured,' Jack drawled, matching her stare, "An' it said. . .?" he prodded again.
"With the sacrifice of Malika will the slaughter and arisings cease," Jimoh recited mechanically from where he had stepped unnoticed into the hut, kneeling on the ground.
"An' ye would be. . ." Jack paused, his gaze and gesturing hands swinging back to Anamaria, "Malika."
"Aye," she agreed, idly reaching behind her and plucking a bone dagger from the wall, running her fingers along the blade as if the turn of conversation was of no consequence to her at all.
"Oh," Elizabeth sighed, looking rather horrified, "Well, that isn't a possibility," she said after a long moment, elbowing the pirate captain on her other side in the gut.
"Aye," he grunted, "It is." Elizabth glared at him and he looked confused, "I mean it isn't. I mean. . .whatever she said," Jack rambled, gesturing frantically to Elizabeth.
"We need to get you away, Malika, for your protection," Jimoh spoke up, drawing Anamaria's lethal glare away from Jack Sparrow.
"Aye," Jack chimed in, "Back to the Caribbean, love."
"No!" Ana burst in, not sure whom she was more angry with, "Ye," she motioned to Jimoh, "I expected more faith from ye. I won't abandon these people, not now. Ye should bloody well know that." She turned her trembling finger to Jack Sparrow and spat, "And ye—ye mangy hypocrite of a dog, ye vow ye won't be me back aboard yer fine ship, but here ye are again, followin' me and expectin' me to follow ye! Tell me why that be, Jack Sparrow!"
"Ye can't do anythin' here but die for 'em, Ana," Jack pointed out logically, skirting her accusation, his tone smirking.
"I want ye to stop, Jack. Stop this madness and go back to yer fine ship an d yer fine life and yer fine friends. Let me be!"
Ana stormed out of the tent, the three pirates and missionary left to stare after her. Jack finally sighed and rolled his eyes, fishing into his deep pocketed jacket, "A'right, a hand o'cards to decide who goes after 'er?"
An echoing slap permeated through the hut walls and Elizabeth stormed out, an indignant "Ouch!" following her swish of skirts.
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Anamaria spotted Nyako speaking to her aunt, Shangazi as Ana called her, and joined them both, bowing to the older woman as a sign of respect, greeting them.
"I heard you had some visitors, Malika. White like bone, I am told," Shangazi said wisely in Himba, her wrinkled hands clasped before her.
"Yes, Shangazi," Ana replied in the same language, "They are. . .were friends from the islands."
"The 'Captain Jack Sparrow' was very handsome," Nyako said in the same language, grinning broadly and raising her eyebrows suggestively at Anamaria.
"Aye, an' he knows it," Ana muttered in English. Both women looked questioningly at her, but she shrugged it off, saying it was unimportant.
"Do not forget our agreement, my dear," Shangazi reminded her gently, pressing her hands to Ana's shoulders and leaving the two girls.
"I am sorry," Ana told Nyako mournfully, "For your brother."
"Chike was a good person and could have been a good husband," Nyoko said tranquilly with a gentle sigh, "He will be embraced by the ancestors."
"Ana!" Ana and Nyako turned as a swirl of grey fabric ran up to them. "I mean, Malika," Elizabeth corrected quickly, "Forgive me."
"It's no matter," Anamaria told her with a careless shrug, "Nyako, Miss Swann," Ana made the introductions quickly while each stared curiously at the other's attire. "Why are ye here, Elizabeth?" Ana asked finally, it coming out harsher than she'd intended.
Elizabeth winced, "It's complicated. I needed to get out, get away from all the coddling. It's my only chance," she explained embarrassedly.
Ana allowed herself to smile at the girl, "Aye, it's acceptable." She paused, and then blurted out, "But why is Jack--?"
Ana put her hand on Ana shoulder and grinned, interrupting her, "That, you'll have to ask him yourself, Malika."
Ana's hands balled into fists at the constant title and lack of information. She opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by an all too familiar drawl in her ear, "Who's yer pretty friend, love?"
Jack had put his arm around her waist which she promptly slapped away and was smirking suggestively at Nyako. His eyes lingered on her bare chest, which nearly all women villagers revealed and thought nothing of it. He sidled up beside Nyako.
"Me cousin," Ana ground out.
Nyako looked somewhat flattered as Jack threw his arm around her shoulders, kissing her cheek and drawing little patterns on her bare skin. Ana's blood boiled and she was ready to slug Jack when he whispered something in Nyako's ear. Ana watched triumphantly as Nyako's hand shot out and slapped his cheek soundly before yelling something back at him and she strode away. Ana laughed.
Jack appeared confused and put out for only a second before sashaying to Ana's side, waggling his eyebrows. "Ana, how come ye don't wear clothes like that, eh?"
Her eyes narrowed and Jack clamped his hands over his cheeks, knowing he was in for a slap. He yelled indignantly as he received not one, but two smacks against the back of his head. His eyes flew open to see Ana's retreating back and Elizabeth glaring daggers and him before storming away.
"Bloody females," he muttered.
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It was late at night when Ana finally settled in to sleep, lashing her burlap closed and making sure her knife was securely tied to her thigh. She had not exchanged words with Jack Sparrow since his. . .introduction to Nyako. She wondered briefly if she should mention Nyako's lover to Jack and quickly squelched the thought. She had, however, had conversations with the young future Turrners about their seemingly eventful voyage.
She lay her head down on the mat, the first thought arising in her mind asking herself how things had been so severely altered so quickly. Her exhausted thoughts, infuriated and hurting, switched back to Jack Sparrow.
Bloody . . .pirate . . .
It seemed that Ana had barely closed her eyes when she awoke with a start to the sound of screaming and scent of smoke.
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