Disclaimer: I do not own anything from PotC.
Chapter Seventeen: "Speechless"
If he had been asked, at any point during his long and colorful career, he would have scoffed at the notion of ever standing inside the mansion owned by the Admiral of the West Indies. He certainly would never be an invited guess and he'd no desire to break into the lavish fortress, not because he thought himself unfit for the task, but a pirate's life is dictated by profit. What profit could possibly be worth the risk of being caught red handed by James Norrington or any of his predecessors? He would never have dreamed that he, Captain Jack Sparrow, would indeed enter the Admiral's estate or that he would be nervous about doing so. Despite any expectations, Jack stood fidgeting in Norrington's upstairs hallway feeling incredibly tense, for, behind one of these doors, Anamaria was waiting. She probably still thought him dead and was not actually awaiting his return, but she was waiting just the same, for the words and explanations she deserved.
Jack drew in a deep breath. He should simply get it over with, barge into the room, tell her the truth, and beg her forgiveness. The blow could crush his pride and destroy what was left of his life, but at least it would be done quickly. He shook his head self-depreciatingly. His pride. What in bloody hell did his pride matter at this point? It was that same inflated self-image that had kept him from speaking true to Ana in the past. Friends and enemies alike had told him that his ego would someday be the end of him. Prescott had always said Jack was as proud as Lucifer and as dumb as a barnacle. Apparently, the older pirate had known what he was talking about.
"You're him, aren't you?" a voice interrupted Jack's pitiful thoughts.
The pirate spun around, arms out from his sides in his characteristic drunken, half mad stance. A young man clad in the uniform of a Royal Navy midshipman stared back through wide brown eyes that were tastefully showcased by reams of sandy blonde hair. The midshipman had a chiseled, blue-blooded face complete with a fine nose and one eyebrow that arched more than the other. Jack felt a wound deep in his heart reopen. He'd seen those eyes before. "Elizabeth," he mouthed silently.
"You're Jack Sparrow," the young officer clarified after a few moments spent beneath the pirate's silent scrutiny.
Jack wanted to say "No." He wanted to wipe that damnedable wonderstruck expression off the young man's face. He did not want to hear this boy echo the questions his mother had asked so many years earlier. Are you the pirate I've read about or not? He could still hear Elizabeth's voice, enraged to find out that rumrunners had rescued Jack from the island, not sea turtles or friendly natives. Is there any truth to the other stories, then? Truth. Oh yes, Jack had showed the angry aristocrat the truth of those stories. Bullet wounds, a disfigured left arm, and the telltale pirate brand testified to the truth behind the mythical Jack Sparrow. Sure, he'd sacked Nassau without gunfire, the town guard had ambushed his crew so deftly that even if he'd wanted to, he wouldn't have had the time to fire off a round. He had vanished without a trace from the hold in an East India Trading Company ship, but he'd been beaten senseless and nearly drowned swimming to shore. And, yes, he had outsmarted the twisted Don Antonio Cornado, but were it not for the help of a certain dark-skinned woman, he certainly would have died.
He was Jack Sparrow alright, not that this impressionable midshipman had any idea what that meant. The pirate sighed as he nodded, for he knew what the boy would ask next.
Elizebeth's son smiled slightly, his eyes widened. "The same Jack Sparrow who battled undead pirates to rescue my mother?" Jack nodded again, bracing himself for the inevitable inquiry. "She's told me the story. She's told me that you fell under the curse of Cortez's treasure as well. Since first hearing the tale, I've always wondered. What was it like being dead?"
Jack shivered, as he always did when forced to relive the horror of finally facing his mutinous first mate, Barbossa. He had taken one of the cursed coins from the Aztec chest not out of greed or curiosity, as had been his excuse in the past. Instead, he took one of those coins because he knew what he'd known all ten years he spent without his beloved Pearl. He could not best Barbossa in a swordfight, dead or alive or anywhere in between.
What was it like to be dead? Jack never knew how to answer that question in spite of the number of times he'd been asked. What could he tell this boy who was meeting a character from his mother's stories? He could describe the unspeakable pain that hit every corner of his body when Barbossa had plunged the sword into his chest. He could try to explain the complete void that followed the pain in which he didn't feel anything at all, not the blood running down his skin nor the damp cave air. Nothing. At the time, the lack of feeling was terrifying. Now, to feel nothing would have been a great relief.
Suddenly, his eye was drawn to the grand staircase behind the midshipman, to the woman in a borrowed dress who had just reached the second floor. Hand still on the rail, the lady's mouth fell open and her amber eyes misted over. The dagger she had been carrying fell to the floor with a earsplitting clang that reverberated throughout the entire house.
What was it like to be dead? "It's easier than livin, lad," Jack answered cryptically, as he stared into Ana's face.
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She heard the ornately carved knife hit the polished marble floor tiles, but the loud noise sounded very far away. The house, the Norringtons, the argument she'd just had on the patio, everything seemed far away except those eyes. Haunting in their familiarity, deep and black and … alive. Those eyes that had been the last thing she saw before their home exploded and she was thrown into the sea.
"Fire!" Jack's voice bellowed over the cacophony of battle. The drunken, babbling madman that usually stood on the quarterdeck was nowhere to be seen. In his place, was the Black Pearl's indomitable leader, the finest sailor and the fiercest fighter Ana had ever known. A capable commander who knew every inch of his ship and every skill of his crew. She sought his eyes, those fathomless depths that had always held his true thoughts. She knew what she expected to see there, but seeing it still frightened her. Her all-knowing Captain knew that this was one fight he should've avoided.
The Black Pearl's ten remaining starboard guns rang out as one, answering their Captain's order. The deck shook from the force of the recoil. Each shot found it's mark on the fast closing British frigate, but the enemy kept coming, never so much as a pause. The Navy ship had been disguised as a merchantman, a thin ruse, and one they should have been able to see through, but that didn't matter now.
"Reload!" the gunner, Matelot, shouted and each gun crew hurried to do so.
Matelot started to yell something else, another order or a reprimand. Ana would never know. The Navy frigate fired with almost twice as many guns as the Pearl. Wood splintered. Sails ripped apart. Another gun tore loose from the side. Ana didn't see Matelot go down. He simply was there one moment and gone the next. "Get that cleared away," Ana shouted as she rushed to take the departed gunner's post. She didn't actually know a whole lot about the guns, but there was no one else. "It's our lives on the line, damn you. Reload!" The men, covered in blood and gunpowder, rallied around their first mate.
Scanning the battered deck, she saw Jack racing to the quarterdeck as Gibbs' lifeless body slumped over the wheel. Cotton's parrot was flapping around her head, squawking and screeching. Not far from where she stood, Cotton was lying in an expanding pool of blood, a splinter protruding from his thigh. "Surgeon!" Ana screamed.
The carpenter, Duncan, was suddenly at her side. "Surgeon's dead," he said.
Ana shot Cotton a glance. His leg was bleeding profusely, without a doctor on board he would lose it at best, or die at worst. "You do it, then," she ordered.
"But, I'm not …I'm no' a surgeon."
"You are now." Duncan's face went as pale as the man he would have to operate on, but he nodded.
Turning back to the guns, Ana saw that they were not yet brought to bear. Looking out to sea, she saw the Navy ship coming around. In no time, they would face another twenty-gun broadside. "What's keeping those powder monkeys?" she snarled, not really expecting anyone to answer. They could not afford to face two rounds of enemy fire to their one. She stalked below decks. Arriving at the magazine, she stopped short bringing her hand to cover her mouth. The room was a mess of blood. The powder monkeys, no more than boys, had been torn to pieces. A gasp escape her lips, amidst the horrific scene, she saw a sailor's worst nightmare: flames in the magazine.
Running as fast as her legs would carry her, she sped to the deck. "Jack!" she yelled. The pirate Captain's eyes found her. They widened, and Jack looked as though he knew what she was about to say, but her warning came too late. The Black Pearl erupted in a deafening explosion, and Ana hit the water believing she would never see Jack in this life again.
Looking into Jack's eyes, Ana could tell that he too was revisiting their last battle. Maybe he was blaming himself. Maybe he was wondering why she hadn't run across the room and threw her arms around his neck. She was wondering that, too. Unfortunately, she could feel the answer pricking at the back of her neck like an annoying mosquito. She didn't hasten to his embrace, because she could still feel James' hands on her body. She could hear her name on his lips.
They had both known that grief had brought her to his bed. Ana had told James that she would probably grow to regret their night together. She sought temporary comfort in his arms and knew she would not stay with him. She had been fully prepared for many nights crying herself to sleep, thinking about how laying with Norrington had been a betrayal of the man she truly loved. What she didn't prepare for was not regretting her actions, not wanting to leave James.
"John," she addressed Norrington's son, surprised to find that her voice was clear and unwavering. "May I have a moment alone with Captain Sparrow?"
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Jack body stiffened, his heart ached. Ana was probably just keeping up appearances. Not good for the fierce piratess to break down and become emotional in front of the Navy, but her words still stung. Captain Sparrow, not Jack. How many exasperated times had he told his first mate to call him by his title, and she always refused. Not with me, you aren't, she would say. Something had changed.
The young midshipman nodded, still looking confused by the way Jack had answered his question. Turning on his heel, he walked down the hall, leaving Jack and Ana standing at the top of the steps staring at one another. Jack pulled off his hat, more because he needed something to fiddle with, than because he cared anything for decorum. Ana took a few steps closer, still not exactly running to his arms. "How?" she asked.
Jack's brow rose. "Another conveniently located desert island," he said, doing a perfect Captain Sparrow imitation. "Complete with a pirate doing penance for his life of crime, natives, and a ship." Turning the hat over and over in his hands, he searched for the courage to tell her what he'd come to say.
"Is Prescott with you?" she said.
He nodded absently. Just say it, damn you, he heard a voice within his head that sounded an awful lot like Scotty.
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So, this was it. Prescott had come for her, and he'd brought Jack. Ana was expected to be so filled with joy that she would want to immediately return to Tortuga and get on with her life. But, how could anything go back to normal now? She was overjoyed that Jack was alive. Facing the rest of her days without him would have been a hellish existence. Still, his reappearance at a most inopportune moment called to Ana's mind all the nights she'd spent alone on the Pearl. So many nights, knowing full well that Jack was ashore with someone else. She knew that those women didn't mean anything to him. Jack had lived a life that taught him never to trust anyone. He'd been a man betrayed one too many times. He only went for other company when he'd let Ana get too close. She could hurt him, and that scared the infamous pirate. But, in twenty years sailing with Jack, Ana had only once ever given him reason to believe he couldn't trust her. She was tired of living up to unreachable expectations. She was tired of feeling like she would never be worthy of Jack's confidence.
Her brother had risked a lot coming back to Kingston. It wasn't likely that Norrington would hang Prescott, but nor was it unlikely. Either way, Prescott could not wait around for his sister to debate her future. She needed to make a decision. Which life did she want to go back to, one as a dark-skinned, upper class woman or one as a lady pirate?
Jack, who had been silent, save for answering her first question, slung his hat over one of the spindles on the railing. He closed the distance between them slowly, but deliberately. He stopped directly in front of her, so close that she could smell the spicy scent of rum mixing with the salty aroma of the sea. Tentatively, he fingered the small pendant that she'd worn around her neck every day since he'd given it to her. A lifetime ago, he'd snuck into her house disguised as a priest and told her that he'd seen the tiger's eye necklace in a shop and thought of her.
"I thought ye'd gone," he said softly. There was pain in his voice and Ana had to swallow the tears that wanted to form. Letting go of the tiger's eye pendant, Jack's hands clasped her own. "I thought ye'd gone before I could tell ye that …" His black eyes met Ana's. "I love you."
Ana's jaw hung open for the second time that day. She had always told herself that Jack loved her, but she had almost given up on hearing him say so. She chewed on her bottom lip, not knowing how to respond. I love you, too would sound so jilted, since only seconds ago she'd been contemplating leaving Jack and only last night she'd known another man.
Jack lowered his eyes, probably taking her silence as some sort of rejection, but she could not find her voice. The valiant pirate Captain sunk down to his knees, defeated. He wrapped his arms around Ana's waist as a drowning man would cling to a piece of wood. Her heart broke. In her life, she'd never seen Jack so vulnerably honest. She ran her hand soothingly over his long dark hair. She wanted to say something, anything, to reassure the pirate, but the words stuck like glue in her throat.
"On your feet, Sparrow," James Norrington's voice thundered from the stairs behind, his words accentuated by the metallic whistle of a sword being freed from it's scabbard.
The pirate Captain laboriously rose to his feet, taking few pains to hide his grieved demeanor. Ana spun around, unconsciously placing her body in front of Jack. James, cutlass in hand, was glaring over her shoulder. Prescott, who had stopped on the top stair, was glaring straight at her. Nearly a year had passed since Ana had last seen her elder brother, but she could still read his thoughts clear as day. He knew about her and James.
She was vaguely aware of Norrington stepping past her and threatening Jack. He was saying something about the audacity of coming into the Admiral's house. She could hear jealousy in his tone. But, despite the tense scene unfolding behind her, Ana could not tear her face away from Prescott. His black hat kept his thoughts, as well as his eyes, in shadow. He knew what she'd done, that was obvious. However, she had no idea how Prescott felt about aforementioned knowledge.
"You've come for Annie," James stated. "I cannot influence her decision to stay or go, but I can very strongly suggest that you remove yourself from my home, or the only place she will be able to accompany you is to the gallows."
Prescott rested his hand easily on the hilt of his sword, but did not draw. Raising his chin, he seemed to tell Ana that the next move was hers. She turned back to Jack, who stood facing James with all semblance of defiance gone from his visage. Drawing a deep breath, Ana uttered words she never thought she would say. "Jack,perhaps you should go."
TBC
Voila! The reunion has finally arrived. I'll be waiting on the edge of my seat for your reviews. I'd love to know if this was everything you expected. I have to admit, I hope that I left you wanting more, cause I've got a few ideas left and I'm certainly not finished with this!
DyingStar: First of all, you were perfectly justified in being a little worried when Prescott was verbally assaulting Miss Lizzie. Self restraint is not one of his stronger qualities. Still, pirate or not, he is a gentleman at heart and he would have to be pushed really far to physically harm any woman. Ana is just the only family he has left and he will go to any lengths to defend his baby sister.And I am sorry that you were aching for some Jack/Ana interaction in the last chappies. I hope this quenched your thirst for a little while at least!
An-Angel-In-Hell: Not sure if your back from Arizona or not, but I hope you got a chance to see Phantom. And I hope my update will be a pleasant surprise upon your return home!
BlackMary47: I'm so happy to hear that your hooked on both of mystories, and I hope this reunion was worth the wait!
Alicia: Sometimes you do just have to shake your head and sigh "Poor Norry," don't you? I do love his character as well, though it may be hard to tell from the hell I put him through. I don't want to see harm come to him, but he certainly is in quite a spot now, isn't he? As for the lieutenants, well, I needed a bit of a villain and Gillette won the coin toss. So, keep your eye on him. As far as Groves, I have some plans for him too, but not in this particular tale. I hope exams went well for you andI hope no professors were harmed by the roaring flames that were your term paper!
SylviaD: You're right, I do have a loose script in my head for the lives of all the characters in my stories, andI am giving a bit away by writing this and "Brothers" at the same time. But, with this as the only exception, all of my tales are prequels for the movie. In that case, we all know that Jack and Ana will end up on a dock in Tortuga yelling about a stolen ship. But, reading about the beginnings of their relationship isn't any less interesting (at least I hope not) So, yes, a few things are certain, like who lives and who dies, but I hope the drama of the earlier stories isn't ruined any by knowing a bit of the future. As for Prescott's reaction to Ana's indescretion, that is yet to come, but I did finally give you the reunion, so I'd love to know what you thought of that!
Cal: I have to say, I'm happy to hear that my interaction between Pres and Liz had you cursing at the monitor and doing a bit of frothing. I don't know exactly why I don't like her, but boy did I love Pres a little more with each insult. You just have to feel for Norry when he's probably agreeing with Pres on most counts, but he can't say a thing about it. He even has to go so far as to defend little Lizzie, when clearly his heart has always belonged to a totally different woman (different in just about every way). I'm also happy to hear that you enjoyed the little scene between Pres and Norry when Pres finds out what Ana's done. I think when Pres asks why Norry never told Ana about his true feelings, he really wants to know. He was friends with Norry for a long time and he had to know that Norry was infactuated with Ana. You have to wonder if even Prescott doesn't wonder what Ana's life could have been like if she had lived it with a man like James. Now, stop reading the notes, cause I have to know what you think of the reunion!
Yuna-flowering: You're absolutely right, Scarlett must have something to do with keeping Pres young and, er, limber!... sorry, dirty thoughts. Anyway, I hope you liked the update!
Thank you as always for all of the kind reviews. Your feedback makes me feel all warm and fuzzy while I write!