AN (7/21)- Okay, so, Erica has problems. Bet you weren't expecting that the pirates to be hung were, in fact, unknown to Jack. This is because I severely messed the whole timeline up, but I've fixed that now. And the second half of this chapter...well, I wrote that about a week ago. Kinda really confusing, isn't it?
Chapter 5: Hempen Jig
The past month had gone by with no snags or snares to distract Jack from his new-found love and muse. Meagan seemed to make Jack wax eloquent on occasion; something he was very loathe to admit to himself after her intoxicating personage left his presence. He'd finally gotten her in a position to do slightly more than merely kiss her-unheard of for the time-but Jack was afraid he'd have to make a deeper commitment to her in order to progress things any further. Jack was afraid of commitment, and he really wasn't sure if he did want to make a step towards marriage, but the desire he felt in his heart had to be satiated sometime, and he wouldn't be able to do that out of wedlock. Her ideals were cement when it came to that question, though Meagan happened to have very liberal views of the day.
Captain Jack Sparrow was currently sitting on a fallen log near the beach. It seemed that he and Meagan always either ended up at the beach or in the park. He personally preferred walking along in the sand, discussing possibilities for the future as he gazed into Meagan's intoxicating blue eyes. She seemed almost like alcohol, and Jack could not drink enough of her presence in. If Jack could see the way he was acting, he'd probably think himself a great fool, but fools always seem to rush into love, and when one is in love, one is oblivious to the world. If it weren't that way, no one would ever have the courage to give their heart to someone else, for that someone else might rip it out and stomp on it at a later date. When that sort of tragedy occurs, it is very hard for the heart to recover, in addition to all the torment the mind gives you on how utterly ridiculous you acted while in the state of 'love'. But life moves on, much like the pounding waves of the sea.
Meagan was currently dancing in front of his vision on the beach. She wasn't literally dancing, of course, but Jack seemed to never see things as they truly were around her. The two of them had several intense discussions on piracy and what the proper punishment should be for such a thing after the hanging of a woman, but they hadn't reached any sort of consensus, for Jack's ideas of leaving pirates alone didn't sit well with the daughter of the local Reverend. No real surprise there, but it had caused the slightest bit of strain for quite a while. After they'd mutually agreed to not discuss the whole pirate issue, things had gone as smooth as the sea on a calm summer day with a healthy breeze. Abandoning her 'dance' for a moment, Meagan stared curiously at Jack. It almost seemed like she was thinking about something in the future, for her delicious blue eyes retaining a faraway look. Jack's eyes seemed to mirror hers, and he felt his resolve to go a step further with her grow immensely, leaving a feeling in his chest similar to the feeling of eating too much white bread too quickly. Meagan giggled slightly, raising her voice into a haunting melody that happened to be one of the hymns in the hymnal at church. Rather unnerving, yet breath-taking all at the same moment to hear her beautiful voice hitting those high notes.
Jack considered joining in with her humming, but decided against it. If there was one thing that Jack Sparrow was afraid to do, it was to do anything dealing with music or art in public. Though his sister had told him he had a rather good voice once, Jack despised anything to do with music. It made him very uncomfortable to see people sing with gay abandon. It was one of the few things that terrified him anymore. Instead, he smiled gently; patting the log next to him as she finished her song. "Meagan, luv, I think tha' we need t' 'ave a bi' of a talk," he said with a somber voice, looking very serious indeed.
Meagan smiled, hiding her alarm at how serious Jack sounded. He was never that somber around her, for there appeared to always be a smirk of some sort hiding near the corners of his mouth. She complied with his wishes, looking up into his tanned face with a curious mixture of dread and excitement. "What is it, Jack?" she asked sweetly.
"Well, luv, I was thinking," Jack started slowly, unsure of how to broach this most precocious subject with the woman he seriously felt completed him. He did not say anything further, a faraway look in his eyes suddenly.
Meagan laughed sweetly, pulling on his beard and giving him a cursory kiss. "Thinking? Why Jack! I do believe we've finally made some progress." She grinned mischievously, running her hand across his cheek.
Jack chuckled, his dark brown eyes regaining their usual look whenever he stared at Meagan's honey colored hair or sea blue eyes. "Aye, we 'ave made some progress." Inwardly swallowing locusts swarming across his stomach, he bent down and kissed Meagan with a fervor and a passion he'd been restraining so far, his hands exploring places that Meagan hadn't let him explore yet. When she did not recoil and slap him, Jack knew she was finally ready for that next step he'd been yearning to take with her since first seeing her.
"Jack," Meagan said miserably, the rain falling off her eyelashes and pooling momentarily on her cheeks, only to fall to the ground like a miniature waterfall seconds later. She was staring up at Jack, a look of pity and sympathy in her blue eyes. "Don't watch it, Jack," she added quietly.
Jack could barely even hear Meagan as he watched with horror as the two men being led to the gallows were fitted for a noose. His heart was beating at an uncomfortable pace, almost like a rabbit's would while being chased by a particularly ravenous wolf. Each beat of his racing heart seemed to say, "Do something!", but Jack's legs felt plastered in place. He couldn't move if he wanted to. Swallowing hard, he tried to ignore what was playing across his eyes. In the distance, he could hear a muffled, "Warren Nelson and Mark Sell, you have been found guilty of committing piracy. Your sentence is to be hung from the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your souls," from none other than the Reverend Kent. He'd been doing this for the past few weeks, for the usual man had gotten ill with tuberculosis. Rather than hiring another military man, they decided to use the most vehement opponent to pirates-Meagan's father.
Jack winced as though stricken as he noticed Mark was looking at him directly in the eyes. Jack could tell the man's grayish eyes were full of fear, shame, and indignation. Not that Jack could blame him. Jack hadn't exactly been the best captain the past month because of his infatuation with Meagan, and it was fairly surprising that only Warren (who happened to be called Whitey) and Mark were the only ones to be captured in the act. Jack watched as Mark bumped Whitey in the shoulder, and soon both Mark's eyes and Whitey's hazel eyes were staring sadly at him. Jack couldn't maintain eye contact, looking down as the executioner prepared to pull the lever that would end the two miscreants' lives. This was absolutely horrible for Jack, especially since he had no idea how to prevent their untimely deaths.
Meagan seemed to sense that something was wrong with Jack, for she wasn't looking at the ground as she normally did during such horrible executions. The rain was slowly pooling underneath the grass they happened to be standing on, and she gently pulled his head down to her level, giving him a passionate kiss in an attempt to drive that look of hopelessness out of his eyes.
Jack could hardly even feel that kiss because of his sand-blasted conscious. Though he could not see what was going on because of Meagan's face, he knew the moment the lever was pulled and Mark was dancing the hempen jig because of a particularly close bolt of lightning and loud rumble of thunder. He seemed to have a look of complete surrender on his face, and after Meagan stopped kissing him, he couldn't remember even seeing Whitey hang.
A few short hours later, Jack was sitting in the warm glow of a fire in a small tavern in Hastings, Barbados. He was staring at his hands, idly rubbing his index finger over his palm. To him, it seemed as if there were blood staining the creases that many thought to be an indication of how long you'd live or if you'd be wealthy or not. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the ashen faces of Whitey and Mark in that rainstorm. Surprisingly, he couldn't remember any sort of color, though there were vivid colors of flowers in the park during the hanging.
Of course there wasn't any literal blood on his hands, for Jack was merely reacting as any guilty man does. There truly wasn't anything he could've done to prevent Mark and Whitey's death, but that did not change how guilty Jack felt. He seemed to think there was something he could've done which would've resulted in a happy ending. Mark and Whitey had been some of his most loyal crew members and their immense carpentry skills would be sorely missed.
"An' I jus' stared, William, I jus' stared as they faced death. I din' 'ave any bloody ideas on how t' save them, an' I din' do anything," Jack practically moaned, still staring at his hands. He'd been at this state since Bootstrap had escorted him back to the tavern.
Bootstrap looked oddly sympathetic, something formulating in his mind. The gangly pirate realized that Jack had been too concerned with Meagan the past few weeks, and something needed to remedy the situation. There was also the fact that if the crew knew that Jack had witnessed Mark and Whitey's executions, they could possibly mutiny. He stood up rather abruptly after a moment and disappeared, reappearing with several flagons of rum in his hands a few moments later. "Jack, me boy, there was nothin' ye could've possibly done t' save them. 'Ave a drink an' forget abou' them." He smiled sympathetically and put a glass of rum into Jack's hands, resuming his sitting position on a fairly posh armchair.
Jack looked at the mug for a while after Bootstrap thrust it into his hands, his mind going around in circles. The roughly blown glass seemed like ice in his hands, curiously enough. The only place Jack had ever had ice was in England. Much too warm in the Caribbean for something as frivolous as ice in one's drink. He most definitely wasn't used to having a glass mug to drink from, but all the seedier taverns had been full, so he and Bootstrap had been forced to spend extra money on a nice room and get more expensive alcohol that was served in glass. He sighed, sloshing the contents inside the mug slightly before deciding to take a swill.
Moments later, a knock at the door made Jack nearly choke on his rum as Bootstrap silently got up and answered it. Standing in the doorway was none other than blue eyed Hector Barbossa, an apologetic look on his face. "Sorry t' disturb ye, Cap'n, bu' I jus' heard abou' Whitey an' Mark an' I think we should get replacements fer them as soon as possible. Rumor 'as it tha' there's a Spanish ship, one o' the las', on its way t' Spain wiv lots of gold." Barbossa appeared very upset at mention of Whitey and Mark, but by the end of his statement, there happened to be a greedy grin on his face.
Jack nodded absent-mindedly, not at all concerned about any sort of gold or such. "I'll leave tha' in yer charge. Find two men t' replace Whitey an' Mark, an' I'll 'ave a look a' them." He put the glass mug to his lips and took another large swill, almost instantly forgetting what the conversation was about anyway.
Barbossa nodded, stepping momentarily out of the room. He reappeared so quickly that Jack really couldn't tell he'd left. "I've already foun' some good men t' replace them, Cap'n." He smiled ever so slightly, stepping into the room. Behind him trailed a rather tall man with what appeared to be blonde hair and a rather vacant expression on his face. And further behind the tall man was a rather squat man that had rather stringy hair and a lecherous expression on his face. There was nothing peculiar really about either-they already looked the part of pirates and certainly smelled like pirates. Barbossa pointed over at the tall one. "Tha's Anthony Ragetti. Tole me 'e served under ole Edward Collier."
Jack nodded to the gangly man, watching him somewhat warily as Ragetti gave a rather peculiar salute. To his knowledge, Collier had been a pirate before the turn of the century, and, if Ragetti did in fact serve under Collier, he must be nearly fifty or sixty. He certainly didn't look to be that old, so Jack gave a rather sarcastic grin. He was a pushover for liars eager to join his crew. He didn't say anything, though, for he really wasn't in the mood for frivolous talking.
Barbossa shrugged slightly, indicating the rotund man with a balding head. "This is Henry Pintel. Claims t' be from Henry Morgan's crew." Pintel nodded slightly, looking rather nervous in front of Jack. He smiled faintly, revealing very bad teeth.
Jack nodded towards the short man, smiling faintly as he thought that Pintel reminded him of a snowman he'd seen Matthew drawing once. Matthew was a fine addition to his crew, though he seemed obsessed with his children-twins named Hannah and Isabelle. It was obvious the small man was lying as well, for Henry Morgan had been a scourge before the turn of the century. Sighing slightly, he said, "Well, they certainly look enough like scallywags t' join me crew. We should be leavin' sometime nex' week." With a wave of his hand, Barbossa escorted the rather bedazzled men away from his presence. When they'd left, he picked up his mug again and finished off the rum, only faintly surprised to see Bootstrap enter the room with more. He hadn't even noticed his friend's departure. Shrugging a slightly uneasy feeling he'd developed aside, Jack started drinking himself to oblivion in an attempt to erase the looks Mark and Whitey had given him.
Alteng-Aye, most sentences were for death by strangulation, but the neck of those condemned did occasionally break in an instant...got that from the Mummy...and, yes, it was an interesting description. Sometimes my mind likes to be a bit morbid. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the introduction of dear old Ragetti an' Pintel, though I don't do them nearly as much justice as you do them.
Jack- Merci! Though, you probably won't see this response forever, I'm glad you like it. And impressed you've kept reading it...
Mab, Queen of Faerie- I'm certainly glad you're enjoying this. Though, you won't see this response in ages, I'm glad you are trucking through my first one...gives a lot of important backstory. And I truly am only seventeen.
sunkist3208- You can do anything to Eric that you want to do...I'll be savvy with that. And, yes, that was a very long review. Almost sounds like you've gotten into the sugar or something. And you can have a trip to Hastings with Jack, I suppose...though, you get to see him nearly every day when we RP or what have you. Luckier than most. And the timeline...I was going to have the events in this chapter in the last chapter, but I forgot that Jack had only known Meagan for a day...and if I get any ideas, I'll tell you. To tell the truth, my ideas are starting to get a bit stale..
Rachel Sparrow- Aye, well, it won't work out, unfortunately. I have many nefarious plans for poor Meagan. Never fear, Jack will be savvy...and thanks for the review! I really appreciate it much more than I think anyone realizes.
DragonHunter200- Just had to keep you on your toes. And I'm glad you found Morgan to be so spooky...she's one lady no one should ever meet. And, to tell the truth, I actually do like the mushy stuff...romantic at heart...thanks for being such a faithful reviewer!