12. Nirrti's Chosen
Rowan shuddered, trembling all over as whirling clouds of impenetrable blackness revealed a cruel face in her mind's eye, the face of a black skinned blonde goddess. Go away, she wanted to scream, but only a whimper escaped her mouth; it sounded quite frightening. Though she wasn't easy to scare she felt the urge to run away, somewhere. To hide herself from that vision, from unwanted, horrifying memories of her past. Yet she couldn't move; she was frozen in her tracks as if she was paralysed. With eyes wide open she stared into space, trapped in a world of never-ending nightmares where everything else was locked out. From a very far distance she heard people speak all at once, knowing that they must be wondering about her behaviour, asking what's wrong with her. She wished they would all go away and leave her alone but that was very unlikely.
Suddenly someone shook her thoroughly. "Rowan! Are ye okay?"
She gazed at Jack as if he was a stranger and started to laugh hysterically. Okay? Nah, nothing's okay. Mypast has just caught up with me, reminding me of things that should've remained dead and buried. Ever been chosen to be sacrificed to a Goddess? No? So don't ask me no questions and I'll spare you my lies; I can't talk about it. The memory's maddening me, suffocating me…
"Rowan!" Jack shook her again he sounded alarmed and really worried. Her eyes scared him most; they were huge, dominating her now pale face, and they were of a colour he'd never seen before, a pale grey with an eerie shade of green. Frantically he turned to Santiago. "Damned Alf what's happening here? What's wrong with Rowan? Is it because of that Nirrti Goddess?"
"You ask me what happens here? Boy, you got a nerve. May I remind you that you took the chalice from the caves of Isla de Muerta."
"I can't breathe. I need some fresh air…" Rowan gasped, pretending to faint any minute to keep the two man from quarrelling and blaming each other. Apparently it worked. They gazed at her as if they were surprised that she was able to speak. At once, Jack's arm came around her waist to steady her while he looked daggers at the Spaniard. See what you've done, his eyes seemed to say.
"Shh luv, ev'rything's all right. I'll take ye away from here. We go aboard the Pearl 'n get something decent to drink." he soothed her and felt reassured when she flung her arms around his neck, clinging close to him for a moment. But then she let go of him as abruptly as she had embraced him before and pushed him aside; in great haste she left the room and slammed the door.
Jack was taken aback and so was everyone else. While the Turners probably thought that Rowan's strange behaviour topped even Santiago's revelation, Jack immediately headed for the door to follow Rowan but then he turned halfway, grabbed the Spaniard by the collard and gave him a good shake.
"Who the hell's Nirrti 'n what has she done to me woman? And don't dare to tell me that all's my fault. I didn't take that bloody chalice to wake a bloody goddess, savvy!"
"Aye, I know. The Chalice of Doom begged you and you couldn't resist its call."
Jack's eyes narrowed but Alf surprisingly wasn't cynical now.
"Actually, that's the nature of the Chalice. It wanted to be released from that cave because it hungers for souls. I'm just glad that it didn't have any effect on you."
"Thanks mate ye're too kind. So when the Chalice has eaten enough souls it throws them up to the feet of a statue and that brings in the Goddess herself. Well, but why was Rowan scared out of her wits as if she'd seen a ghost when ye mentioned the name of Nirrti? Who's she? And spare me the talk of destruction, darkness, calamity, decay and death 'cause that I know." Jack appeared impatiently since he had the feeling that he was only wasting time here, time better spent following Rowan.
"Nirrti's a very old and very evil Hindu goddess, so to speak an early personification of Kali but without her creator aspect. Sorry lad, that's all I can tell you. If you want to know more ask Rowan though I doubt she will tell you the whole story…"
"Ah, I knew I was wasting my time!" Jack snapped and let go of the Spaniard to catch up Rowan. The sun was already beginning to sink when he left the house and with the increasing shadows Tortugan nightlife awoke. More and more shady creatures roamed the streets looking for a drink, a good lay or a fight. Yet there was no sign of her flashy red hair to see.
As Jack Sparrow had already expected it, he found Rowan aboard the Jewel Star- of course, his ship, his beloved Black Pearl, would also be his favourite refuge when things went dreadfully wrong and he needed a place to literary lick his wounds.
"Hey, why didn't ye wait for me luv?" he yelled cheerfully.
Alas, she wasn't very pleased to see him. "What d'ye want? Can't ye just leave me alone?"
"Um… no." he replied, not knowing what he'd done wrong. Well, she was in a weird mood, that for sure, but that was no reason to take her temper out on him. He reached out one hand to stroke her cheek, noticing that she was still unusually pale. "Come on, why don't ye just tell me what's bothering ye? There's nothing we can't talk about, savvy?"
"Sorry, Jack. I don't wanna talk. I'm tired 'n really pissed off. So please leave me alone, aye?" She turned and headed for the companions way but he followed her obstinately.
"Well, we don't have to talk. We can as well continue what we've done last night. D'ye remember?"
Rowan sighed. Of course she remembered everything and it had been a wonderful night, full of passion, desire and love- yet that had been last night. Today, everything was different. Today, Nirrti had rushed back into her life with full force and though the memory didn't paralyse her anymore the face was still there, black and cruel. Ah, it was a tempting thought to seek oblivion in Jack's arms but on the other hand she knew that she couldn't stand any intimacy this night.
"Good night Jack." she said and tried to close the cabin door behind her but his boot blocked the threshold. "Damned, which part of 'leave me alone' ye didn't understand?"
"Just gimme a goodnight kiss, luv."
She sighed again, raising her head to slightly brush his lips with hers but he took advantage of the situation and kissed her thoroughly. Her wantonly body nearly betrayed her. It would be so easy to ignore the past and every God or Goddess… yet she couldn't disregard the fact that her world was in a total mess, shattered and torn into pieces. At the moment she didn't even know if she loved Jack at all, she only felt agitated. Unceremoniously she shoved him aside, slamming the door in his face. BANG!
What a nasty sound. Had that been the right decision? Rowan uncorked a bottle of wine and didn't even bother to use a glass, instead she drank half of it straight while she dropped onto her bed. It didn't help much though. The face wouldn't go away even if she'd drown in a barrel of wine. Yet layer after layer of suffocation cotton wool had fallen off her; the last one when Jack had kissed her. Damned Jack! He shouldn't have followed her since she really needed to be alone now, to think things over and not to take her mind off things.
So, Nirrti was back in her life. The horrible Hindu Goddess, the personification of utter darkness, the Goddess to whom she should have been sacrificed once. Of course it hadn't suited her to become Nirrti's chosen sacrifice and it had demanded an immense sacrifice from her to stop her evil doings. Yet she would do it again without hesitation.
Anyway, that's how it had ended but the whole affair began when she came to Madras, about eight years ago and still chilled to the bone from her stay in England…
Ah, how I hated London! Weeks and months of never-ending sleet, freezing any emotion. I felt frigid, my strength spent with pregnancy, miscarriage and the bloody cold. All I wanted was to curl up beside the chimney of our rented house and sleep. Should Santiago and Bill go to search Bill's son in vain; I didn't care. My senses were reduced to a minimum, I just lived but never even cracked a smile. London nearly broke me- Barbossa would laugh if he'd know since he tried to break me but failed. Now, isn't it ironic what a proper dress can do to a person who hates to wear dresses just to please the conservative Englishmen? Didn't work though. They still pointed at me and whore was the nicest word I can remember… What a relief it was to be back at sea again!
Finally warm winds filled our sails and the air smelled sweeter- not like damp cold cabbage. India! The velvet darkness of warm summer nights mixed with an overwhelming scent of spices, there was music in the air. I strolled along the old medieval quarters of Madras and all the shit that had kept me in bounds broke off, for the first time in months I felt alive again. Wherever I looked I saw friendly faces, pretty faces with dark eyes. The women dressed in colourful Saris and the men… well, they interested me again. For the first time since Barbossa had raped me I was in the mood to start an affair. Hmm, no, it wasn't only the mood, it was also the opportunity; there just hadn't be any opportunity before- certainly not in England...
Tyagraja was a poet, a sitar player who loved to spend the nights in the taverns of Madras enchanting his audience with his tunes and poetry. He was a handsome man of well proportioned, slender figure with long black hair and soft dark eyes. Also he was the Maharaja's second son but Rowan didn't know that when she met him. Probably she wouldn't have cared anyway since she was here to have fun and he really flattered her when he just like that composed a song as soon as he lay eyes on her.
A Jewel made of gold, emerald and rubies,
a dazzling beauty,
but dressed in rags.
The goddess of the gutter she is.
Have I meet the woman of my dreams tonight?
That was how it all started. They spent the night together in his tiny, messy room at the first floor of a tavern and he made her whole again. He was as skilled in the art of lovemaking as he was with his sitar, imprinting poems on her skin with his mouth. She just yielded; instead of merely seeking one night of pleasure she fell in love with him.
The weeks to follow were some of the happiest in her life and she didn't even care that Santiago had left her in Madras to go about his own business. It would be a surprise for her he had told her when they parted. Well, that was ok with her.
One thing she loved most about Tyagraja was that he never tried to change her ways, he only showed her some new and interesting directions, and one of these directions led her to Kali. Never being a religious person herself she wasn't too keen to accompany him to the shrine of the Goddess he adored but she did him that favour. And was stunned. The uncanny image of Kali repelled and fascinated her simultaneously. Kali, the dark and terrible mother, essentially wild, untameable and bizarre but also somehow beautiful. She had the colour of a thundercloud, four arms, unruly flowing hair, and she was naked except for a necklace of human skulls and a girdle of human arms. Really horrifying…
…no, not really. Kali just represents the dark side of life, everything in human life and nature we would prefer to deny and ignore, smugly assign to a past that's long dead and buried. Yet life has its dark and its light sides- who knows it better than me? Love and hate are two sides of the same coin and Kali is a constant reminder of that. To live is to risk, sometimes to loose and to encounter pain. Yeah, there was still a certain pain locked deep inside of me, then, but I couldn't lock it forever, one day it would come roaring out to take over mind and soul. Worshipping Kali was to face it, to accept that life is to die because death is a necessary and inevitable consequence of having fully lived. Ah Kali, I haven't prayed to you for many years but somehow you're still in my heart. Tyag told me your wisdom once- how could he dare to betray you so badly?
Rowan rose from the bed, rummaging about her private things until she found what she had been looking for- a small bronze statue of the Goddess Kali that Tyagraja had given her a long time ago. She opened another bottle of wine before she curled up in her pillows again, holding the statue tightly in her hand. Even after all these years she still didn't comprehend just why everything had to go so dreadfully wrong. After all, she had gotten over the fact that Tyagraja wasn't a poor poet but of noble descent. She had met his father, the Maharaja, a very gentle old man who appeared to be quite fond of her, the unsuitable pirate bride of his youngest son. But there was also Shardul, the firstborn, Tyagrara's brother, the next Maharaja of Madras to be. A shiver ran down her spine when she remembered their first meeting as he undressed her wantonly with his eyes, wanted her, envied his little brother although he had a harem of woman to satisfy his lust a hundred times over. He was a handsome man yet there was something dark, cruel and almost brutal about him.
Tyag never saw that dark side, the greed in Shardul's eyes. He idolized his brother, loved him with the stubbornness of a child. It was his love that carried us all away. He would have done everything for him and he did. Why didn't I notice the changes in his behaviour? His cheerfulness simply faded a little bit more each day- or night, since he spent many nights with his brother in the crematorium ground, worshipping Kali by bringing her blood sacrifices. He never took me along, knowing I wouldn't like it. He should've also known that I'm not a housewife waiting for him to come home. It wasn't curiosity but caution, better being safe than sorry; these are things a pirate learns. I asked him why it has to be blood instead of flowers or incense.
'Kali has to be freed from the bounds of civilisation. We'll be rewarded with fortune and fame.'
'Bloody nonsense!' I cursed. 'If I want a fortune I set sails and commandeer a spice trader's vessel.'
He smiled wryly at me and begged me to trust him. Stupid me I did. But did he really believe his own words? I still wanna believe that Shardul brainwashed him, that he knew nothing of Shardul's real plans, evil plans…
She shuddered, suddenly freezing in the warm Caribbean night. If she had only known then what she knew now. That Tyagraja had told his brother of her time with the Maroons, that she had been their Goddess Who-Died-To-Live and therefore would be the perfect sacrifice to Nirrti, the ancient Vedan Goddess of death and destruction. She was a black skinned goddess with long golden hair, an ancient proto-Kali. Yet while Kali was the terrible but essentially loving mother, all Nirrti wanted was to destroy, cause death and grief; her path was that of eternal darkness.
'…a ritual, my precious ruby, to verify our love and make it last forever.' Who was the naïve fool, me or him? Never heard of a love ritual that takes place in the crematorium ground. Yet I agreed- or at least I made him believe that I'd love to fuck him on a grave with priests of an evil death cult watching us, intoning their unholy prayers. Not that I knew it then, I still had to find out.
There was an eerie atmosphere in the palace when Marris and I sunk in. All the curtains were drawn tightly that no sunshine could get in, not a single one of these beautiful crystal chandeliers was lit and only a few simple candles here or there shed a little light. Where were all the servants gone? The place reeked of death and we soon figured out why.
'… select a newly dead male corpse preferably a hero, a warrior or a king. If he has recently died a violent death so much the better…if possible, the high priest who offers the human sacrifice to her Maliciousness, the Divine Queen of Darkness, should be a king or of high ranking…' Marris quoted that bloody document. We exchanged a look and knew it all, we just had to replace king with maharaja. Shardul had murdered his father to become king himself and practically he had a kingly corpse as well. I couldn't breathe, I had to get outta there...
Later she was told that most of the servants had already been dismissed, some had vanished in a rather mysterious way while others, who might have witnessed the murder, got their tongues cut out. Also, Maharaja Shardul liked no men in his service except for his guards so everyone else had to be castrated, and the only one who escaped his fate was Rashid, now ship's cook on the Jewel Star.
We sat in a tavern close to the docks then, making plans and discarding them, when the most beautiful ship I've ever seen lay anchor, and Santiago walked up to me.
'Happy birthday Rowan. Hope you like my little present.'
How weird can one single day of your life be? That surely topped it all. Too many things were in my head so I just creased up with hysterical laughter. Finally I had my own ship! I had forgotten my birthday! I had to stop the man I loved and who somehow surely loved me too from scarifying me to Nirrti! Why didn't I go aboard my very own beautiful ship and sail away from Madras? I dunno. All I could do was to ask Santiago how fast my ship is.
'It's the fastest in the world and that it surely will be for the next hundred years. See, I had a vision…'
Rowan touched the dark, smooth wood her ship was build of, feeling comforted for a short moment. Santiago hadn't lied to her. The Jewel had proved to be the fastest ship in the world. She gulped down more wine and was back in Madras once again…
… the drums are beating faster than my own heart. We were dressed like we'd attend a wedding, our wedding. Yet it wasn't. There was nothing cheerful about it. The priests wore masks, black masks… I see your face again, so solemn and earnest. You still believed we'd make a vow of eternal love and I- damn me, I wanted you so badly, just one last time… so berserk… I saw her in a blurred crimson vision; the horrifying image of Nirrti smiled at me, satisfied with her sacrifice, with Nirrti's chosen… for an instant I saw what the world's gonna be if she succeeds. No! Then I felt the presence of Kali, wrapping me in her arms… there's blood on my hands… Yet I had no other choice… And after all's said and done there was still Marris, always Marris- who else could have saved me from rage, wrath and madness?
Tears ran down her cheeks, for the first time ever she cried for Tyag. He had become a distant but constant memory through the years, and many times she had wondered if there had been another way instead of killing him. That had been the hardest decision she ever had to make and it had demanded an immense sacrifice from her. After that, she'd gone through all different kinds of emotions.
First, she was totally shocked about herself, that such a wild and even bloodthirsty rage could have taken control over her. Yet the sea soothed her as soon as she stood at the helm of her wonderful, very own ship, feeling the wind in her hair. Then she was angry with Tyagraja for his blind belief and trust in his brother though everyone but him knew that Shardul was a cruel man. Later, there was only bitter emptiness and numb grief left but never ever a single tear for Tyag until now.
Somehow it felt good, it was relieving. It felt like finally ending a chapter of her life to start a new one, even to love again. Marris had been right about that, it really was time. Suddenly she longed almost desperately for Jack and buried her head in the pillows, feeling lonely. Her bed became much too big for her alone and his scent still lingered everywhere, a masculine scent of salt, sea, endless horizons- and rum. Yet he wasn't there because she had sent him away; she had slammed the door in his face. If only she wasn't feeling so lonely and abandoned at the moment. Now she regretted her harsh reaction although she knew that she had really needed her time alone to conquer her memories, and although she hadn't been in the mood for any intimacy then she definitely was now. After all, you can't wrap your arms around a memory.
Rowan decided that it was time to look for Jack even if that meant going aboard the Black Pearl and face its hostile crew as long as she could crawl into his bed and into his arms in the end.
"You're not welcome here." Anamaria blocked the gangway, arms folded defiantly across her chest. It was obvious that she hadn't any intention of letting Rowan aboard without trouble.
"Yep, I know that but I don't give a damn. I have to talk to Captain Sparrow." Rowan replied a bit wearily. The sun had already risen and after a sleepless night haunted by Nirrti she really wasn't in the mood to quarrel with that irritating dark haired woman who still blocked the gangway.
"You could have saved yourself the trip. He's not in his cabin. Good bye."
Rowan rolled her eyes, slowly getting impatient. "I said I have to talk to yer Captain, lass. So ye better tell me where he is and save yerself a lotta trouble."
A triumphant smile curled up Anamaria's lips and she took advantage from the lovely situation that the red-haired bitch had no idea of Jack's whereabouts. "You don't know where he is? Well, well, so he's already fed up with you. Poor Rowan."
Rowan decided to ignore her and squeezed past Anamaria, nearly pushing her from the gangway into the water. Then she headed for Jack's cabin and found it empty like Anamaria had said.
"I've told you Jack's not in his cabin. Wanna check mine? Maybe ye find him there, still exhausted from the bliss I gave him."
"You? He couldn't needed it that badly." The words came out of Rowan's mouth without thinking, because if she'd thought about it she had known that this probably wasn't the wisest thing to say to a jealous woman. Jealous and infuriated- a truly dangerous combination to deal with. But she was tired, a bit drunk, and her mind was still occupied with the things that had gone so dreadfully wrong in India.
"Arrogant bitch!" Anamaria slapped her hard.
Rowan raised her brows, feeling rather superior to a woman who could only slap or trip her. "Now that's what I'd call a lack of arguments."
"How 'bout that argument?" Anamaria drew a dagger, now really infuriated by Rowan's calm arrogance and eager to cut that arrogant smile off her face.
"Ah, stop that lass 'n I'll do ye no harm. Savvy?" Damned I'm tired, I'm dejected, I wanna be held…I 'm definitely not in the mood to quarrel nor start a fight…
Butactually she was in the midst of a quarrel already. She wondered what Anamaria was up to now. Watching her she felt a bit dizzy since the dark haired woman had the nerve-racking habit of throwing her dagger from one hand to the other, and that she did really fast.
"Yo ho, yo ho a pirate's life for me. We pillage and plunder, we rifle and loot…", some drunks were singing in the distance; it sounded quite dissonant and distracting. After all, it distracted Rowan. For an instant she forgot keeping a sharp eye on Anamaria, and that instant was enough for her opponent to attack her. From the corner of her eye she saw the blade coming down on her but after two bottles of wine her reactions were slowed. She stumbled aside and stared at her left arm in disbelief. There was a narrow red line painted in blood that stretched across her forearm from her elbow to her wrist.
"…we're devils, we're black sheep, we're really bad eggs…"
The untalented singing had come closer when Rowan finally felt the pain. That damned bitch had really tried to stab her! She'd gone too far. No matter if Rowan hadn't been in the mood for a fight before, she definitely was now. Actually the desire to beat Anamaria black and blue increased even more with every pulse-beat of pain that shot through her arm, and a crimson cry for blood-thirsty revenge blurred her mind.
"…drink up me hearties yo ho!" Two drunks sang cheerfully, staggering and stumbling down the quay, leaning on each other in familiarity as if they were best friends; white-blond messy hair mingled with black messy hair. Yet the cheerful tune died abruptly on their lips when they noticed what was going on aboard the Black Pearl. Jack and Marris sobered up straight.
"NO! No, no, no! Stop that!" Jack shouted while he ran up the gangway, wagging his hands dramatically in his typical way. He wanted to intervene in the cat fight and settle it, but instead he had to take beating himself before he could separate the two women. "Damned! Stop it now! No fighting aboard my ship, savvy!"
Breathless the women stared at him and then back at each other again. Rowan wondered if she also looked like a shorn sheep as Anamaria did, with torn clothes, hair in a total mess, and bruises that promised to turn out quite colorful soon. Anyway, that wasn't the right moment to be vain. She just wished meeting Jack would have been slightly different or at least not like that.
"Hey, what's wrong between ye two? There's no reason behaving that nasty so calm down ladies, will ye? Shake hands 'n be friends again."
Ha! Rowan wanted to laugh out loud but bit her lips instead. Now, what was worse- that she had to shake hands with her best foe, that Jack still hasn't noticed Anamaria's jealousy, or that he might get the idea they'd been fighting over him? Definitely the latter was the worst and even more as it wasn't true, of course not. She'd never fight because of a man. Actually she hadn't wished to fight at all, it had only been for self-protection.
"I just showed her a few tricks, that's all. Ye know, it's kinda dangerous being a woman these days." She said with a sarcastic undertone in her voice.
"Tricks?" Of course Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't to be led astray that easily since he usually kept his eyes wide open, even when he was drunk. And what he had seen here wasn't what he'd call a training session. Also there was blood on Rowan's arm.
"Aye." Anamaria hated to play along the game for which the damned red haired had set the rules, but she was also well aware of the fact that her Captain wouldn't appreciate her attempt to kill his new favorite.
Jack wrapped an arm around Rowan's waist and pulled her a bit closer so that he could have a better look at her wounded arm. "Ye're injured, luv. How could that happen?"
"That was a trick gone wrong." Anamaria said coolly. Her eyes shot daggers at the red-haired bitch who had the nerve to snuggle boldly in Jack's embrace, fluttering her lashes at him. That was just sick. More annoying was only that she had to keep her mouth shut before Rowan changed her mind and told Jack what really had transpired between them. Hopefully that slut won't expect her to be thankful.
"Ah, it's just a scratch. Nothing to worry about." Rowan couldn't resist to flash a triumphant smile at Anamaria as Jack began to nuzzle her neck.
Marris, who had followed Jack immediately, sensed that there's still trouble in the air and he did understand the glances Rowan and Anamaria exchanged exactly the way they were meant to be- as an extension of their fight but with words and looks instead of fists. They weren't done with each other yet. He felt sorry for Anamaria because he knew that she'd lose sooner or later; she couldn't match Rowan. Santiago had paid the best teachers throughout Asia to teach her all kinds of martial arts and he hadn't spent his money in vain- although she had been in many respects too impatient to learn one technique in perfection. He also knew that she tended to play things down. "Lemme have a look. Yep, it's just a scratch. Great. So we don't have to wake Santiago and ask him if some stitches are needed?"
"Stitches?" Rowan turned pale. No matter how tough she usually was, she had a healthy respect of Santiago's needle and the mere thought of a needle piercing her soft flesh made her shudder.
"Just kidding."
Marris grinned but she wasn't in the mood for his sick sense of humor. Suddenly she felt weary again. Now that the fight was over her adrenalin level had sunken below zero and all she wanted was to sleep. Somewhat accusingly she elbowed Jack. "Where've ye been? I've been looking for ye."
"Me? Well I… um, I had a few glasses of rum with Marris down at the Faithful Bride…"Jack squirmed a little, feeling quite uneasy because he didn't know what he should have told her if her first mate hadn't shown up there. Of course he'd been dying for a drink after she'd turned him down, and the Faithful Bride is always the best place in town to get drunk. Well, not only to get drunk but also to find oneself a nice, willing company- someone who didn't slam the door in his face and let him die in sexual frustration. Yeah, he'd been looking for an uncomplicated screw. What's wrong with that? After all, he's a pirate and it's only natural that pirates enjoy themselves with doxies. So what?
It's not my fault that they buzzed around me, attracted like moth to a flame and the flame was me, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow. I had two lovely wenches sitting on my lap, one blonde and one brown, enchanted b my charms. I could have been a luck guy. But I kept on thinking of red hair, the color of red-wine, and suddenly their kisses tasted foul… whores' kisses, tongues licking my teeth like already counting the coins they're gonna get… the smell of cheap perfume, too many layers of make-up covering worn-out faces. Ah, that Marris guy just spared me money and a big folly.
Jack remembered how he'd winced when Rowan's first mate walked up to him, asking if he was willing to share, an odd smile on his face. He shooed the chicks away, pretending that nothing had happened, but Marris wasn't here to moralize or remind him of Rowan.
Thank hell it's him and not Santiago or I'm a dead man now.
"What d'ye know about Indian deities?"
There are some strange things about Indian deities. They're usually quite colorful, some have animal face, and they have many arms…Nah, that wasn't what Marris meant. Then he told me a strange story about a love lost and Indian goddesses, Kali and Nirrti, or Kali who'd once been Nirrti but became Kali then and shall be Nirrti again, and therefore a mad Maharaja needed a human sacrifice which should be Rowan of all people. Ha! He was in love with a Goddess' chosen…
Nirrti's chosen, who just looked up at him with emerald eyes he could drown in, simply uttering that she was tired and wanted to go to bed now. That was perfectly alright to Jack since she obviously wanted to go to bed with him. So it was better to be off before Marris might decide to tell Rowan about the time he'd spent with the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, although it was also quite obvious that the blonde fuzzy-head apparently had other things in mind. Jack couldn't help but crack a smile when he saw him following Anamaria, who was about to leave the deck. Now, that was really interesting.
"I don't wanna talk." Rowan stated when she entered Jack's cabin.
"That's alright to me luv. Just come here." He patted invitingly the empty side of the bed next to him while he watched her undress. Naked she crawled under the black, silken sheets and snuggled herself comfortably into his arms. Well, that was what he'd call a promising start.
She sighed when his hands cupped her breast and his lips nibbled along the delicate line of her neck, but she was too tired, emotionally too exhausted to get stimulated by his touch. All she wanted was to sleep with his arms wrapped around her, feeling the warmth of his skin.
Captain Jack Sparrow was a bit puzzled when Rowan just fell asleep in his arms. He raised his head and gazed at her, not knowing how to deal with that situation since he'd never ever shared his bed with a sleeping woman before. Of course, there'd been other women in his bed but they had only satisfied his needs and were forgotten soon after. Why was it so different with her? Why does it feel so damned good just to hold her in his arms? He was startled with that much intimacy and yet he longed for it. Well, apparently the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow was getting soft,
"Sleep well, my love." He whispered in her ear as he rested his head next to hers, knowing that this night for the first time since years he'd sleep well too.
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