Gaah! My muse is slowly drifting away. I need ideas, people. The updates on this story are gonna be fewer and farther between untilI can get some ideas. But not to worry, I'm not abandoning the story!
Anyhoo, the whole disclaimer spiel...Yeah, I think you all know that allI own is Maribelle, so restating it too many times is just redundant, huh?
And sorry, I'm feeling a lil bit off, so I can't really respond to all my reviewers individually this time...sorry!
On with the show!
Out free on the ocean once again, Maribelle felt a rush of familiar feelings that were all but forgotten. She'd been so fond of how if you breathed deeply enough, you could taste the air, and how you could look out over the ocean and see nothing but water and the horizon.
She was sitting out at night at the bow of the ship, looking out over the dark velvety sky. She was imagining that her father was sitting in front of her, talking, just as they always had when she was younger. A scene played out in her head, and Maribelle had no doubt that, had her father been alive, it would go just so...
"I don't belong here anymore, do I?" Maribelle said miserably. "I tried to think I remembered everything you taught me...but I don't,"
"But you can," her father said. "You can."
"Oh, papa," she said quietly, "I used to be ready to be a real pirate, and look at me now. I'm cold and wet on a ship in a wedding dress. That's not quite the most intimidating image,"
"It isn't about looking intimidating, remember?" he asked. "I've told you every day, if people look at you, and they're fooled, then you've brought yourself that much closer to winning."
"Winning what?" she said. "Papa, I don't have anything to fight for anymore. I'm just another girl. I'm stuck like this now, and there's no changing anything."
"Only if that's what you want," he replied stoically. "If you want to sit around and be whatever the world tells you, I can't stop that. But that's not what you want. You want the world to know your name."
"Is that what I want?" she asked quietly. "I can barely even remember now."
"Tell me what you think you want for your life," her father said. "Tell me what you're looking for."
"I'm looking for..." she began. There was a long pause. She hadn't thought about what she wanted her life to be, not for a long time. If anyone else had asked he, she'd have answered that she wanted fame, fortune, and a good husband, because that's what anyone wanted to hear. But this was her father, and he would see through that lie in a moment. "I want to be a pirate." She said resolutely. "I want to be the kind of pirate who's the subject of a million stories. I want to live on, even after the day I die."
"Then you haven't forgotten anything," her father chuckled. "You're the same girl, somewhere beneath that mask. You just have to start living again, savvy?"
"Savvy," she laughed.
They both stood up and looked at one another. She stood almost eye-to-eye to her father.
"You've done well," he said kissing her on the forehead. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise," Then, he disappeared.
Maribelle shook herself out of this fantasy. It was far too impossible for her father to be there, and yet there he had been. Perhaps she hadn't lost anything after all.
"What do ye think you're doing out here?" Jack said, striding up to the spot where she was sitting. "A bit chilly, isn't it, milady? Thought ye'd be in your cabin, sleepin',"
"I'm just thinking," she said pointedly, not even looking at him. "I suppose you find something wrong with that?" she added.
"Ye just think too much," Jack laughed. Maribelle turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow, finding his amusement rather untimely.
"Maybe not too much," she said, sounding a bit ruffled. "Maybe I've just been thinking of all the wrong things."
"No difference," Jack shrugged. They just hung around silently for a few moments. "So, you really aren't, then?"
"Aren't what?" Maribelle asked, once again looking confused.
"Grateful," he shrugged. "I did just save ye from that bloody French swine, after all. I expected a little bit of thanks for it,"
"Ho!" Maribelle laughed, "You saved my life, did you? Pernot was quite rich, as I'm sure you're aware. If I had married him, I'd be living quite a life. I might well have found that bloody French swine attractive, you know."
"Ye didn't," Jack laughed. "He was a fat prick old enough to be your father, and...well, being married to him, you'd have been obligated to consummate said marriage. Doing so would obviously require ye to- -"
"ENOUGH!" Maribelle interrupted, trying not to laugh. "All right, point taken. I'm grateful, and definitely relieved I didn't have to marry Pernot. Are you happy now?"
"Not quite," Jack said. "Why aren't ye scared of me?"
"First off, it's hard to be scared of someone you can remember as being a short little boy who was scared of heights," Maribelle said in amusement. "Second...well, there is no second. Anyhow, who would I be scared of you?"
"I'm the bloody best pirate in the entire world," Jack said cockily. "I think that's a good enough reason.
"Well, you're not the best pirate to ever have existed," Maribelle said, standing up and leaning against the mast.
"Oh, right," Jack said, rolling his eyes. "That's your father, isn't it?"
"No," Maribelle said with a smirk. "Me, when I was seven years old. I suppose my father could tie for first, though."
"And I can't?" Jack said, crossing his arms. "What's so good about you, eh, milady?"
"What's so good?" she scoffed. "What's so good? Oh, I don't know. I just can't help it that greatness runs in my blood, now, can I?"
"Cocky much?" Jack asked sarcastically. Maribelle just laughed at him.
"So what happens next?" she said quietly, once her giggles had subsided, suddenly taking a serious tone. "Are we just going to be running away from something for the rest of our lives?"
"Pirates don't away from things. Ye should know that," Jack said, "They run towards things."
"Like what?" Maribelle scoffed.
"The horizon," Jack shrugged. "Who know what a bugger could find once he catches it?"
"You never will," she said critically. Jack cocked his towards her and gave her a lopsided grin.
"Ye seem a bit too sure of that," he said. "Almost like ye want to challenge to legendary Jack Sparrow. Do you mean to tell me that there's something I can't do?"
"Yes, in fact, I do," she said, now smiling herself. "If you can manage to someday hand me a piece of the horizon, I'll give you anything you want, no joke."
"I'll hold ye to that one day," he said. "Ye need to learn to start keepin' your promises, milady."
"Why on earth do you keep calling me milady?" Maribelle snapped in annoyance.
"That's what ye are," Jack shrugged. "You're a lady, Miss Winthrop. Ye aren't any more a pirate than I am a gentleman...and I'm sure you understand what I mean," he smirked with a wink.
"You're wrong," she said, bobbing her head in his direction. "I'm still good enough a pirate. You'll see."
"I'll see, will I? If you say so, I'm sure I will." Jack affirmed, laughing in a rather patronizing manner that only aggravated Maribelle even more. "Yes, luv, once the wind stops blowin', I'll see if ye know a thing about livin' on a ship. Ye won't make it a day without my help,"
"I won't make it a day?" Maribelle snapped, affronted. "You're absolutely infuriating! Has ANYONE ever gotten that point across?"
"Once or twice," Jack said proudly. "I'm makin' ye angry."
"Damn right you are, you bloody scallywag!" Maribelle said, flinging her arms out. Jack just broke out laughing, nearly hysterically.
"Watch that mouth, milady," he cackled. "Might have to punish you for that language,"
"Oh, right," she said sardonically. "Wouldn't want to force my filth onto your innocent ears, now would I?"
"Well," Jack said with an appraising grin. "Now that's more like the Maribelle I know."
"Bloody hell," she muttered, "What'll ye have me do next? I don't suppose you have any rum with you? I might as well get absolutely inebriated if I'm going to be stuck with you."
"All for me, none for you," he laughed, gesturing exaggeratedly at a flask he had tucked into his belt. "Ye'll enjoy the right far more if ye stay sober, milady."
"If you call me that again, I swear on pain of death, I'll wring your neck!" she said in annoyance.
"Oh really?" Jack said, smirking wanly and raising an eyebrow. "Then I'd do well to obey your orders, wouldn't I, milady?"
Mirabelle jumped at him, knocking him down and placing her hands playfully on his neck.
"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Jack said, looking at Maribelle in genuine surprise. She had definitely caught him off guard.
"Well, you're the one who said I ought to start keeping my promises," she said, not removing her hands, just looking confidently into his eyes, rather defiantly.
Suddenly, Jack grabbed her wrists, and their positions were reversed, and Jack was now on top of Maribelle, pinning down her hands at her sides.
"Yer reflexes need work," he laughed.
What happened next really had now reason. All either of them knew was that, at some point, Jacks hands released Maribelle's wrists, and were now on either side of her shoulders. He brought his head down slowly, his lips meeting hers in a solemn, chaste kiss, quite uncharacteristic of the pirate's rugged way with most women.
"What was that?" Maribelle asked, turning her head to the side and breaking away. "Jack- -"
"Kiss me again," he said staunchly. "Captain's orders."
"You're horrible," she snapped, somehow slipping away from beneath him. She stood up and dusted herself off. "Honestly, is this all you ever think about?"
"What exactly are you referring to?" Jack said shrewdly. "Of course, I think of other women, but there aren't any available on this ship at the moment, so, since I'm captain, I get to alleviate certain tensions by wooing you, savvy?"
"No, not savvy," Maribelle snapped. "You don't ever, ever do that again, or I'll...do something!"
"Something?" he said tauntingly. "Perhaps ye'll just kiss me back, then."
Maribelle rolled her eyes and stormed back into her cabin, slamming and locking the door behind her.
Meanwhile, Will and Elizabeth were inside their cabin muttering to one another, having eavesdropped on the entire conversation.
"Well, I know one thing for sure," Will said rather smugly. "They're not married."
"All right," Elizabeth admitted, "But they bicker as though they are."