Before The Dawn

Chapter VI: Of Storms and Realizations

By FalconWing

It had been nearly a week since he had had his discussion with Captain Clavell. Jack had done what he was told, worked his hands to the bone and been sure to keep an ear out for any information concerning Will, Elizabeth and the others.

Word had somehow gotten around that he had served on the Black Pearl and the rest of the crew now treated him with a fear born of awe. They didn't defer to him at all, they just kept out of his way, sending fearful glances towards him if he singled them out for something. This was quite often as it had somehow become his unofficial job to correct anyone seen doing anything incorrectly – he probably would have done so anyway out of old habit but for his wish to keep a low profile.

He wondered how old Norrington was taking it. It wasn't often that a Commodore of the British Royal Navy found himself cooling his heels behind bars. Jack couldn't help but think that it was one sight he would like to see – after all, while he may have had regrets about it, the man had tried to hang him on numerous occasions.

But unfortunately, he had not yet been assigned guard duty. He had been provided with suitable clothing and spent much of his day running about on deck or up in the rigging. He had been aloft even more recently: ever since the man on lookout had slipped climbing down again and been lost to the sea. The rest of the crew now regarded the tall, swaying masts with trepidation boarding on terror.

Not that Jack minded.

He was currently seated in the crows nest at the top of the main mast. It had been a while since he had had lookout duty and he had time to rediscover his love for the task. While it wasn't quite the same as standing at the helm of your own ship, it still came pretty close.

Up here, the calls back on deck were another world away. The rock of the masts was soothing and he felt cocooned in a shell of peace and tranquility. Here where there was only him, the wind and the sea, he was free to be himself – to be Jack Sparrow. Not John Daniels or even Captain Sparrow. Just…Jack.

He never would have thought he would appreciate not having everyone hanging on his next word, his next command. But he did. Now that wasn't to stay that if the chance came to be back on the Pearl, standing at the wheel he wouldn't take it.

Of course he bloody well would! The Pearl was everything to him and he knew her inside out, from bow to stern, from the tip of the main mast to the bottom of the keel. She was his life and when the time came for him to leave here and get back to her he would leave with no regrets. He was just waiting for the opportune moment.

He didn't know what Clavell thought he was doing. The Captain hadn't deigned to inform Jack of his plan. For the past six days they seemed to have been simply circling Jamaica. Jack assumed that he was waiting for a reply to a ransom note, though he had no idea how they would receive it out here in the middle of the ocean. Surely it would have been easier to drop anchor in some obscure bay nearby.

Also interesting would be how the note was delivered in the first place. He had observed the man and his crew closely from the moment they had burst in through the door and he had seen no one sneak away to leave a message behind. He knew that it was highly possible he was wrong but he liked to think that when he put his mind to it, nothing could escape his attention. If this was the case then the missive had been sent at some point after they had boarded the ship.

The ship herself was called the Jolly Roger. Jack snorted in amusement. Not exactly the most original name, but then what could one expect from a bunch of landlubbers?

The crew themselves weren't all that bad, he amended. Well…some of them. Big Dan and a few others were all right as was the cabin boy, Tom. Now Tom did look to him for direction and Jack had found that he didn't have the heart to turn the lad away. The boy seemed to idolize him, taking his lead and unconsciously imitating his mannerisms.

Even now as Jack glanced down towards the deck Tom was below, waving cheerfully upwards. He turned as if to climb up and join Jack but then the second mate, Hughes, barked something at him and Tom took one last wistful glimpse up the mast before scampering off.

The boy was one of the few who would climb the rigging and the only person on board save Jack who did so with pleasure. Like as not the lad wanted to hear more stories. When he wasn't badgering Jack to teach him the sword, he was sure to be bombarding him with questions about his escapades. While he enjoyed this, Jack had to be careful that what he told was not revealing anything he couldn't afford to have known.

He exhaled noisily and looked around. Stretching out as far as the horizon was the cerulean blue of the Caribbean waters. But he knew that the crystalline water and clear blue skies could be deceiving. The Caribbean was well known for its quick-silver weather changes and the wild squalls that blew in from nowhere, destroying everything in their paths.

And Jack, sensing the change in wind as he breathed in, knew that on its way was just one-such of said wild squalls.

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Will groaned miserably as another huge wave sent the ship reeling and more water leaking through the small hole that resided in the hull, near where Jack had been seated.

Where Jack had been seated before he had got some harebrained idea to go flouncing off to the captain. Who knew what had happened to him? For all Will knew his friend could have been thrown over the side, had his throat slit, been impaled on the pointy end of a sword, or met his end in any other number of gruesome manners.

To stop his thoughts from traveling that dreaded road he transferred his worry and anxiety to anger.

The man was impossible! What on earth had spurred the pirate to go haring off on his own to carry out some lunatic plan he had thought up? And all because in his pigheaded stubbornness he had been determined to be present at a wedding to which he had not been invited. He had to be the worst pirate Will had ever seen.

But that had been the wrong thing to think. He could almost see Elizabeth, sitting on the beach with that amused smile on her face as she told him with a perfect imitation of how Norrington had tried to snub Jack the first time they had met.

Elizabeth. He tried to hold onto the hope that she was unharmed but that hope faded with every passing day. His head refused to even entertain the thought that she was not alive and well but he knew in his heart that that was extremely unlikely what with her being taken individually and remained so for what must be almost a week.

All while William Turner Junior sat on his backside in a dingy brig and brooded, he told himself cruelly. He had sat in here full of self pity and all the while the crew had been hurting his wife and killing his best friend.

The ship rocked heavily again and a loud thump overhead indicated that someone had just landed above him – probably the lookout coming down to assist. There were a few purposeful footsteps as the person began to stride away. A strong baritone rung out over the wind and a gasp escaped the lips of the young man below decks as he recognized with shock the rough commanding voice of his friend for the second time in one week.

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Sorry, I know that was quite short and not much happened but I promise more will happen next chapter. I was just running out of time and had a bit of writers block so as you can see any reviews will be welcomed with open arms. Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: Anita Lawn (and no I'm not using it every chapter, it just seemed to fit. It must be pretty funny to have someone start singing in an internet café. Lol), peachfreak, A Sly Fan, LunarianPrincess, Alaawya and Savvyness.

Those who review will be worshipped for eternity.

Love anyone who reads…

FalconWing.