The reason that this chapter took me so long to write is partly
cuz i'm not sure anyone is reading this anymore. Which is saaad.
Apparently I have lost a lot of loyal reviewers over summer break,
which I understand cuz it's hard to get back into a story after 4
months. But IF you're still reading this, please please please leave a
review, ok? Thankieeees! (Especially to cancat90 and Cayenne Pepper Powder! Thank you for the sweet reviews!)
Sail On Silver GirlChapter 14
The smell of burned flesh lingered in the musty air. The wooden boards were damp. Dirty water sloshed from side to side.
Silvers body lay motionless in a clammy corner of the brig. Her head bore a nasty gash across her right temple, and even in unconsciousness her eyes twitched nervously under the lids. Suddenly she bolted upright. Her wrist was hurting to the extent where the pain clouded her vision and she almost lost consciousness right then and there again. Clutching an iron bar she brought herself into a sitting position and rested her head against the cool metal. Her hair was a stringy mess of knots, her face was ashen, her clothes torn. At the sudden shot of pain she grasped her wrist and dug her nails into the skin to relieve the pain, when she saw it. Her grey eyes widened with shock as she recognized the perfectly formed 'P' shape just above her wrist. In disbelief she stared at it, until panic veiled her eyes and a salty tear fell to burn into the skin of her hand and she wailed in emotional agony.
With satisfaction Captain Malvata heard the guttural, tormented howl from below his chambers.
Silver thumped her fists against the iron gate, sobbing with anger of her submission. Then she ceased, falling back onto the damp planks and rested her head between her hands. Her fate was sealed. Marked like this, with the brand of a pirate, she could never return.
For three days Silver remained motionless, her eyes devoid of any emotion. Her cheek stung from the strikes she had received because she wouldn't utter a word to Captain Malvata, and her food had been taken away – each time untouched. Her cheekbones stuck out under her skin, which had turned a sickly yellow. Her eyes bore dark circles from the lack of sleep and her wrist was swollen and red. She had given up. There was no way she could escape, even if she wanted to. Once, while staring at a chest of rum just outside her cell she faintly thought of Jack. But the memory of him hurt a thousand times worse than her mark and she banished him, never allowing another thought of him to enter her mind.
On the third day she noticed a change in the sea that had become
so familiar to her. The ship no longer tipped gently from side to side
– it swayed dangerously back and forth and she could hear waves
crashing and the wind moaning. To keep her balance she had take her
head from her hands and hold onto the bars, but her eyes showed no sign
of fear. They were empty and had lost the silver glow to them. The faster the Nicator sinks, she thought, the better...And I will die a real pirate, she added bitterly, just like I always wished...
Jack was standing at the helm of the Pearl, his face scrunched up in concentration, his kohl smudged and his hands were gripping the wheel tightly. The Pearl was rolling from side to side and the pitch-black sky was illuminated for seconds by a flash of lighting followed by the ominous grumbling of thunder. He desperately, but in vain, tried to make out a ship in the distance, any sign of the Nicator. For three days he hadn't eaten, nor had he slept. When he discovered that Silver had been left behind he turned the Pearl, immediately taking pursuit of the victorious vessel. But the Nicator seemed nowhere to be found and Jack was starting to loose hope, especially now with the storm coming. He cursed himself again for the umpteenth time when Gibbs voice rang faintly across the deck.
"Jack! Shouldn't we drop some canvas? The storm's mighty strong!"
"She can hold a bit longer." Jack called back over the cackling of the sails, but it sounded more like a plea to the Pearl than a convincing answer. Gibbs stared at him, then shrugged his shoulders miserably and scuttled back below deck.
Jack's hands skillfully guided his ship, regardless of the wind and rain whipping his grim face. He pressed his eyes shut for a moment to block some of the unbearable pain he felt. Knowing that Silver's life was endangered he realized just how much she had grown on him, how much she meant to him. If I'd just get one more chance, he pleaded silently.
When he opened his eyes again warily to concentrate on the rough sea beneath him, Jack seemed to see a pair of white sails through the black night. Quickly he grabbed his glass and focused in. A ship, thrown from wave to wave, obviously out of control and destined to sink. Jack took the glass down. Hopefully there would be enough time.
The sailors aboard the Nicator yelled in fright and scampered across the slippery deck. Several had already been lost to the depths of the bubbling cauldron that had once been the crystal clear ocean. They had gotten Silver out of the brig because every hand was now needed on deck, but she stood motionlessly between the hurrying crowd and not even the slashes of Malvatos whip could get her to climb the rigging. She stared out into the transformed sea, thinking of Jack. It didn't matter whether she allowed herself to think of him or not now anyway, since her death seemed inevitable.
A frightened shout rang out above the noise as the ship leaned starboard, the railing was almost touching the water. Everything slid downwards, until the ship was almost vertically tilted. Silver found herself holding desperately onto the mast. Why don't you just let go? Isn't it too late anyway? She pressed her eyes tightly shut as she heard the mast creak and splinter. The next moment she was falling through the rain, until she felt the sting of cold water surrounding her body and weaken her limbs.
She came to the surface gasping for air and one of her flailing arms felt the smooth wood of the mast floating next to her. Silver grasped at it with both hands as the next wave crashed over her. She just wanted to give up. But oddly enough she felt she couldn't - something seemed to stop her from letting go...
As Jack steered the Pearl through the storm his knuckles turned white from apprehension. This, this was it – he had seen the Nicator here, Jack was sure of it. Its remnants were floating around the Pearl. Remains of planks. A sail shredded to pieces. He was too late.
Jack lifted his face to the sky, wondering why the rain suddenly tasted so salty.
"Man over board! Man... - uh...Woman over board!" Roberts shouted hysterically over the howling of the wind. Jack raised his head, staring at him in disbelief, then came rushing over. Wave over wave rolled over the remnants of a mast beneath them, and someone hung on to it desperately...
"...Silver!" Jack whispered, and the next moment he had climbed onto the railing and was diving into the black pool. Anamaria shrieked in shock and thumped her forehead at his stupidity, mumbling something that sounded vaguely like "love really does make men blind...".
Jack came to the surface right next to Silver, grinning like a madman.
"Get me a rope! Quick!" he shouted as he pried Silvers cold fingers gently off the mast.
Half an hour later Jack sat in his cabin, holding Silver in his warm embrace. Her head was resting on his shoulder and she was asleep. The cup of hot rum had spilt onto the floor because she had been too weak to hold it and her body was wrapped in a blanket. Jack gently held her, occasionally sipping on some rum to warm him up. The water really had been freezing; Silver must have had a lot of determination to keep stay alive since she survived this. He smiled, but this time it wasn't the typical Captain-Jack-Sparrow grin, it was a sincere and warm smile he dared only because he knew he was alone. He looked down at the sleeping figure in the crook of his arm. She had only been awake for about a minute, with a peculiar expression upon her face and her eyes staring off into the distance. When she noticed Jack her eyes started to glow, and the next moment she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Had Jack been religious, he would have thanked God for giving him another chance to hold Silver. Now, a pirate like Jack knew no religion - but he felt the surge of gratitude nonetheless and promised, by his pirate soul, that he would never let her go again.
A/N: Is it going to fast? Is Jack out of character? I'd love to hear what you think! Remember the golden rule: The more reviews – the faster the update ;-)
Cheers,
Sereture
