Chapter 9: In The Middle of The Night
Disclaimer: See Chapter One
AN: Yes, yes, I'm baaaaaaaack! I am extremely sorry for the delay. Props to Zo and all the others who (finally) got me off my lazy (yet extremely preoccupied) butt and asked for the continuation of this story, which yes, I do plan on finishing (eventually). So, here's another tidbit in my Jack/Ana voodoo saga to tide you over while I go figure out what perils to throw in the path of our valiant pirates. Bon Appetit!
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From Chapter 8:
The missionary's gaze was focused on Anamaria, ignoring the pirate's jovial words. "Anamaria. Shangazi… has disappeared."
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Anamaria gaped at him. "Disappeared?"
Jimoh nodded, panting as he clutched his portly stomach as if he'd been running. "After you two…vanished...the wise men went looking for her and couldn't find her." He paused, holding out an objected in his hand for her to take, "But they did find this."
Ana looked down at her palm where the holy man had pressed a wilting, blood-colored flower. She bit her lip, looking into the man's kind light eyes. "This only grows in one place…" she mused, rubbing tiredly at her brow.
"If I could just say—" Jack began suddenly, breaking his uncharacteristic silence.
"No!" Anamaria snapped anxiously, closing her eyes and appearing to be in deep though. Her gaze snapped wide as she gazed fretfully on the flower that had disturbed her so. "A trick?" she finally asked in dread, desperately wishing it not be so.
Jimoh shook his head, telling her silently that he wasn't sure. He opened his mouth to speak, only to be cut off by the impatient pirate captain.
"Aye, it is a trick!" the captain roared in aggravation, jumping up in the air to land on his scuffed boots to express his frustration. The missionary and African princess stared at him, open mouthed.
Ana tried unsuccessfully to snap her jaw into place, finally narrowing her eyes dangerously and resisting the urge to stamp her foot like an impetuous child. The strain had began provoke her temper and she could feel knife-sharp points of pain in her temples.
"I don't think I asked ye, Captain Sparrow," she spat venomously, "Ye may know the way when it comes to ships an' daring escape tactics, but ye know nothing of life and caring."
The pirate's mouth fell open and a veil dropped over his dark-lined eyes, making them unreadable. Anamaria ignored the pang to her heart, immediately realizing that she had gone too far.
"I know more than ye think, love," Jack drawled quietly, his black eyes locked on hers. "More than ye think." He spun on his booted heel and disappeared through the cloth door, the passive jingling following his departure.
Anamaria bit her lip, staring after him in silence. She closed her eyes briefly and sucked in a deep breath, nearly choking on the heavy fumes concentrated in the hut. A wave of homesickness crashed into her so hard that she almost swayed against its sheer for. But where is home? She asked herself warily.
The missionary's gentle cough snapped her back into the present situation. "We can send the warriors…" he told her patiently, as if speaking to a child.
"No," Anamaria replied, distracted. "They will anticipate that. Shangazi will likely be used as a bargaining chip. Can't risk it…" She was beginning to pace, not realizing that given the situation, the man currently situated outside the hut would be doing the exact same. "I'll go alone," she decided finally, almost speaking to herself. "We'll send scouts to surround the place, but I'll sneak in meself."
"Anamaria," Jimoh said concernedly, "That's exactly what they want."
"I know," Anamaria sighed heavily plopped down onto a thick fur mat. Her eyes went glassy as she stared out in the direction that the pirate captain had just disappeared. "I know, and I'll give them just what they want."
As she could sense Jimoh begin to gear himself up for an argument, Anamaria scrambled to her feet as quickly as she had made the decision to sit and bolted for the entrance to the hut. She stepped outside, letting the cool night air flow over her, cooling her emotions.
The sudden scratch of flint to her right did not startle her. She swallowed hard, however, and opened her mouth.
"Those things can kill ye, ye know."
"Aye," came the harsh voice from the shadows, "An' so can doing foolish things."
"I'm no fool," Anamaria retorted calmly, not flattering him by raising her voice or turning to face him.
"But tis a fool's errand," Jack Sparrow pointed out wearily inhaling the tobacco, a habit he only indulged in once in a great while.
Anamaria did now turn to him, smiling a humorless smile. Reaching out, she plucked the expensive cigar, plunder from a Spanish trading ship, if she remembered correctly, and inhaled it as well.
Jack slanted a look at her, his casual indifference disturbing the female pirate. She knew she had hurt Jack, and he had made up his mind about something, that man was stubborn as the Devil himself.
"Jack…" she began suddenly, the passion usually so well-concealed momentarily consuming her.
Jack held up his hand, stopping her plea. His dark eyes sadly surveyed her dress-clad figure and jewelry and her environment. "Doesn't suit ye, love. Ye can't force something that isn't there. Remember that."
And with that, the pirate captain plucked his cigar from her slender fingers, saluted her with it, and swaggered into the darkness, only his footsteps allowing her to believe that he wasn't a spirit after all.
The Himba princess by birth right alone felt something unfamiliar prick at her eyes and a lump form in her throat. Startled, she began to walk away from the village. Her pace increased, and without realizing it, suddenly the slender woman was running. The night air flowed over her as she raced on and on into the unknown.
Stumbling, she halted and couldn't suppress a sob. Barely able to keep herself standing, she stood swaying atop one of many rolling hills, trembling with something she hadn't let herself give into since she turned pirate. In the distance she could see the silver moon shedding its light onto a far-off glittering sea.
She missed the sea, Anamaria realized with sudden desperation that penetrated her to the bone. She shivered unexpectedly and wrapped her arms around herself, both to keep herself steady and to ward off the suddenly cold wind.
Another sob ripped through her and she fell to her knees in the coarse grass and soft dirt. She squeezed her eyes closed against the salty tears that had invaded them and as one dripped into her mouth, she tasted the sea. She could almost smell its salt and feel the smooth planks of thePearl pressing against her skin.
Tears streamed down her cheeks, feeling like icy rivers as the wind whipped through her hair and her body trembled with strange emotions.
Emotions.
They had taken her so far from home, so far from what she had known. And now they might as well be the death of her. But it was time to end that, she resolved firmly, raising her eyes heavenward. Her own petty emotions would not be the death of this tribe. They would not be the death of the flesh that she had come from. They would not shame her father's memory.
Ana lolled her head backwards and heaved a deep breath. She cleansed herself with the fresh air, blowing out all the fear and the sadness and the anger and the conflict. Anamaria would do what had to be done. She would do it no matter of the risk to herself. A pirate and a princess must be able to do both.
She straightened her shoulders. Yes, Anamaria Santagio would rescue her grandmother, kill the voodoo witch, and save the day. And go home and live happily ever after. Ana sighed. Where was home?
She'd never really had one aboard a ship, not until the Black PearlNo, she mused, not until the Black Pearl and Jack Sparrow. Love welled in her chest until the frustrated pirate stuffed it back down. No. She would not love Jack Sparrow.
Even if he had crossed a bloody ocean for her.
But this wasn't the time to think of the mess she'd made with Jack. Jack Sparrow was a hard man to grant forgiveness. And who knew, it was quite possible that he had fled the bloody continent by now with his loyal British lovebird accomplices.
The thought gave Ana an unexpected pang, which she also stuffed far down in her chest. Emotions would be the downfall of everyone, and Anamaria was not going to be one of them.
Roughly wiping the remains of her tears with the rough cloth of her sleeve, Ana rose to her feet and steadied herself. She smiled grimly. That bloody voodoo witch better watch out, because Ana could bet her last shilling that the witch had never come up against a more fearsome foe than a pirate woman.
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Stay tuned for the next edition of…Pirates on LAND!
And because I've made those few faithful wait so long…may I present to you…A DOUBLE WHAMMIE.
Ta dah!