His Lady
"And the mermaids call to those seafaring men, to their deaths in their watery den."
Jack groaned, the smell of smoke drifted to his sensitive nose, his head ached and something seemed to be tearing at his wrists. He opened one eye slowly; all he could see was a stiff shirt of the man in front of him, the rough fabric rubbing against his cheek. His eyes fell into focus and he quickly sat up he looked down at his wrists, they were shackled he stared at them uncomprehending then around. He was slumped in a longboat which was drawing away from….Jack's eyes widened he felt his heart wrench as he saw her. They were off the coast of Africa, they had been coming back to the Caribbean Jack remembered just a while ago lying in her cabin, trying to muddle through what had happened, standing at her helm and trying to forget what had almost passed. Then he remembered the other ship pulling alongside her, and the cannon fire.
There she floated now, fire licking at her, slowly sinking into the depths; her sails hanging limp no longer blowing with the sea breeze to be spirited away. She looked so forlorn, so lost and broken, Jack shouted, attempting to stand up, someone shouted rough hands pulled him back down before he could dive off the long boat and into the sea towards his lady.
"You stupid or something Jack," cried a man sitting next to him as he held him down roughly. Jack recognized that voice, his brows furrowed in confusion, he looked towards the man. It was Graham, good old honest Graham another employee of the East India Trading Company, a fellow Captain he of the Divine Dove, a friend….at least who Jack thought had been a friend. Now the man sat next to him a pistol in one hand, his men sitting in the long boat next to Jack, rowing sweat falling down their faces, they all gawped at Jack like he was something awe inspiring, something to be feared and pitied.
Some who knew him would not look at him at all; they cast their gazes away ashamed. There he saw old Richard who had tried to teach him how to swim; there was Tom who he had beaten at poker only a few months back. Now these men were silent even Graham didn't look at him now, once Jack had stopped struggling he had released him hurriedly, almost as if he was afraid of him. They were all silent all casting their guilty gazes away, treating Jack like a condemned man. Jack was their prisoner now, shackled and being taken back to their ship to be transported back to the Caribbean and the man they all served.
Jack looked at them all, uncomprehending still, his head ached he could see other long boats being rowed close to theirs he supposed some of his crew were in them, but right then all he was concerned with was his lady sinking slowly in front of him, and these men sitting so silently and not daring to look at him, these men he knew.
"Why?" he asked, his voice was dry, it cracked but maybe there was also something else making it crack, something deeper. His voice seemed to echo over the silent water the waves taking it and carrying it further until it seemed to envelope them all. Even the thud of the oars and the crackling of his lady seemed to be lost in it, the question of a man who had lost everything it seemed.
Graham stole a guilty glance his way, then he shook his head there was silence for a while and it appeared no one would answer Jack.
"Because," Graham finally said, his voice seemed far too loud it seemed the silence was more then he could bear. "Because we were ordered to Jack, by Beckett. After you dropped the cargo …."
"They were people," Jack corrected giving Graham a hard look, "They were people Graham," he said, as if it was the most essential detail, which to Jack it was.
"After you dropped the cargo back," Graham continued pretending Jack hadn't spoken. "Beckett was livid, he sent out an order for your arrest Jack, said you committed an act of piracy….you have to understand Jack, you know how it is….I got Molly to think about and the children….orders are orders Jack…" he trailed off still refusing to meet Jack's steady gaze, almost pleading with the man.
"But my lady, Graham," Jack said, still unable to comprehend the burning ship in front of him, "My lady…."
"Orders are orders Jack," Graham continued, Jack was silent finally after he realized he was getting nothing more from the man he fixed his gaze on his lady, his sinking beauty with each groan it seemed to be calling to him and he winced. She had been his love and home for many years now, he had stood as her captain, she was the one thing he could call his…his freedom….now she lay broken and burning.
"She's just a ship mate," someone finally said softly, they were pitying him, trying to offer there condolences, they didn't seem to understand though, how could they, it was his lady burning, his beauty, his love…..his freedom slowly sinking away.
Jack did not move as Graham put a consoling hand on his shoulder, he just kept his eyes fixed on his lady, his eyes drinking greedily every small detail of her, from her mast which had once stood proud and tall to the painted letters which were faint and peeling on her side reading "The Wicked Wench." He had never thought that name suited her, such a majestic creature, but he would remember them none the less, and he would remember this spot. He would come back to his lady and sail upon her once again.
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Jack stood in front of Beckett in his study; the man sat surveying him calmly from behind the heavy mahogany desk, a mask of complacency on the man's face as he inspected the now grimy Jack. It hadn't been an easy journey for Jack, the shackles had hurt his sensitive wrists unused to such treatment, Beckett had expressively put out orders to keep him locked in the ships goal and they had been followed. The men had allowed Jack to go out sometimes up on deck out of pity, but not often and not long enough. Jack once a captain was now dirty and a bit weak, swaying slightly on one spot, he tried to give the grin he used to be so accustomed to giving but which now seemed a bit hard to muster, especially in front of this man.
"So Mr. Smith," said Beckett, standing up slowly, he swung a cane slowly in front of him, Jack watched it slightly apprehensive, Beckett had never been one to hide the story behind that cane. Jack remembered sitting in this man's cabin in what had been more favorable times, Jack had always watched that cane, it made him feel sick to think of humans being branded like cattle and right then he was feeling a tad bit more then sick. It was almost overwhelming and he felt like he would collapse but no matter how hard he tried he could not seem to tear his gaze away from that cane and the small P attached to the bottom of it.
"You saw it fit to relieve the East India Trading Company of their cargo did you," he spoke in monotones but Jack knew this man and behind that mask he could almost see the fire burning, the fact that he could keep so cold about it made it even the more frightening. Jack found his gaze was torn from the cane tip and up to those clear cold eyes, an even more frightening sight.
"I don't know what you're talking about mate," Jack said, he kept his voice as polite as Beckets but saw it fit to shrug his shoulders as if all they were talking about was the amount he had sold tea for.
"Oh," said Beckett, raising his eyebrows slightly, "And I suppose you also do not know what happened to a whole cargo of slaves Mr. Smith, hm? They just disappeared did they?"
"Wait," said Jack, raising his shackled hands up to express his point and frowning as they chinked and hindered him. Shackles really were quite annoying, "I thought we were talking about cargo here mate. I appear to be a bit lost…" he grunted as one of the guard's beside him saw it fit to hit him on his already sensitive head, he doubled over somewhat.
Beckett moved around his desk and stood in front of Jack, looking down at him as if he was an insect. "You know you've always annoyed me Mr. Smith," Beckett said, his lip curling as he looked down at Jack, his braided hair and beard, his tricorn hat placed crookedly upon his head. Jack straightened up with some difficulty, facing Beckett; he was not going to look up at this man who was no better then him.
"But," said Beckett, looking down at his cane, "You've always been quite helpful to the East India Trading Company and I must say you're ability to steer your ship was quite….formidable…."
"Always happy to help my employers," Jack said giving Beckett an unpleasant smile which did not reach his eyes.
"Yes, well Mr. Smith after this little escapade of yours do you know how much money you have lost you former employers," he looked at Jack again searchingly, making sure he caught the former. "That was important cargo Mr. Smith and you just let it go….just let it go right back where it came from, and on purpose too. You know I wonder, why on Earth would a man with everything to lose do that? Why would he just help cargoe escape like that?"
"Because," Jack said simply, furrowing his brows and talking to Beckett as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I wasn't taking cargo to the Caribbean I was taking human beings, men, women, children….. They weren't tea, or salt, or spices, they were living breathing humans…."
"They were the property of the East India Trading Company," snapped Beckett, his eyes flashing. "They were expensive property, buyers were promised slaves and instead they got nothing, less then nothing. Are you going to be able to compensate them Mr. Smith?"
"I think I'm going to leave the company, mate," said Jack as if he was having a conversation about his career with Beckett. He saw Beckets hand tighten around his cane and he felt grim satisfaction. "We don't seem to see eye and eye anymore you see. I'm not into slave trading; every man has the right to his freedom."
Beckett gave Jack one hard long look, then slowly he shook his head. "I do not understand you Mr. Smith," he said, "Nor do I think I ever will."
"Why thank you," said Jack, brightening as if Beckett had just paid him a compliment. Beckett suddenly moved towards his hearth, sticking the poker into it he held it there for a while then took it out, inspecting the burning iron. Jack squirmed back but the guards held him, blocking his escape.
"Mate, maybe we could talk this over you know…." Jack trailed off as Beckett came closer the brand glowing in his hand. He stopped talking as he saw there was no way he would be able to talk his way out of this one, he wasn't about to waste his breathe on this man, no more then he needed to.
"I just have one question for you," Beckett said, moving closer to Jack holding the brand close to his face. Jack could feel the heat radiating off it and he tried to back away but the guards held him fast. "Why? Was it worth throwing away your life for a few slaves?"
Jack looked him in the eye, he could see the glowing brand reflected in Beckets cold ones, could see his future, he simply grinned a sense of pride filling him, they say a pirate only got branded when they really earned it.
Beckett asked him why, why he had taken those slaves back to their county and set them free. Jack had seen them, those people with fear choking them as they saw their lives, their freedom being taken away and they were powerless to do anything. He had seen it and he wanted nothing to do with it, he was not a man to deal with slavery and mainly it was because of his lady which had made him sail back immediately. The thought of her being used like that, being used as a vessel to take something priceless away, she would seem forever tainted with fear and death and hate, forever tainted with a horrible deed one man did to another, the act of robbing a man of his freedom. Jack couldn't bear seeing that happen to her, couldn't bare others looking at her with fear rather then respect, with loathing rather then love. Partly he'd done it for her, for his lady.
"Well mate," he said, trying to find a way to reveal to Beckett all his feelings, to make this man understand, "It's all really about a lady, like everything is. But also maybe it's a bit of my philosophy you know, better a pirate and free, then a slave and dead," he said to Beckett and he saw the man understood what he was trying to say, he would be no man's prisoner, not of the East India Trading Company, or of Beckett, if becoming a pirate would free him of them, then so be it.
"Well lets see how you enjoy your first taste of pirate life," said Beckett coldly, raising the brand, "As short lived as it will be."
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Beckett had been wrong, oh they'd kept Jack in their prison and tried to hold him there, maybe they would have hung him in the end if Jack had given them a chance. Jack hadn't though, he'd escaped and he'd found his way back like he'd promised. He now sat in that same spot in a small row boat, the small waves rocking the boat and soothing him. He looked out at the ocean, this was the place, the last place he'd seen her. The little row boat belonged to one of his old acquaintances, Little Jimmy Piper; he'd lent it to him. He hadn't wanted to when he'd found what Jack had wanted it for, Jack had seen that, but he'd ignored it, it and Jimmy's words.
"It's a fool's errand Jack," he'd said, his words seemed now to echo back to Jack to join the lapping of the soothing waves. "You can't get her out, no one can, and she's gone now. Better to buy a new ship and be done with it."
"No," Jack had replied simply, "She's mine, my lady and I won't let her rot at the bottom of the sea, she isn't ready to rest not like that, not sunk so easily, she shouldn't have gone down at all you know that, not like she did."
"No one can raise her Jack," he had repeated fruitlessly, "She's gone, not worth risking your life for, and you know the tide out there. It's strong and it can kill a man, even the best swimmer, it'll drag you down. You're not a simpleton Jack, don't throw you're life away over just a ship."
That was the second time someone had called her just a ship, but Jack refused to listen to them. "I'll get her out from the bottom of the ocean," Jack had growled, "Even if I have to drag her out with my own hands."
Now he sat in the old row boat, taking a swig from one of the bottles of rum he'd taken along with him. He didn't really have a plan; he hadn't even thought it through, all he knew was that he couldn't leave here, not without his lady. Jack found himself taking off his hat and jacket, pulling off his sheathe and pistol holder, he dragged his boots off and finally placed the rum down, he stood carefully up in the row boat, looking down at the rocking waves. He looked down at those impenetrable depths and his heart felt like it was aching, he found himself rubbing his hand unconsciously. The brand was there, red, raw and still aching, he looked down at it, then further down at the sea. He was a pirate now and he found the life suited him, he had promised himself he would sail under no man ever again, and be restrained by no law. In order to keep that promise and his new found freedom he had to keep this one first though.
Jack dived into the water; it hit him like ice, he couldn't see anything but blue. He tried swimming down though, he only got a little way before his lungs began to burn, and he swam up gulping in air desperately as he broke the surface. He felt like crying out, he'd hardly gone a little way, hadn't even seen anything and he'd been forced to go back up again. His mission was a hopeless one, pointless but he gritted his teeth and dived again, he would not give up, he felt it in his heart, he couldn't leave his lady not to such a fate even if the sea claimed him too he would try.
He did try, over and over and over again. He dived continuously until his limbs became heavy and his lungs seemed constantly to be burning. He hardly broke the surface when he dove again, it was as if he could hear her calling to him, like a desperate madness seized him and pulled him down now, he could no longer think only do. He broke the surface and realized the sky was beginning to dim, he'd drifted a little way away from the row boat, but luckily he'd put down the small anchor it had so it wasn't going anywhere. He looked at the dimming sky dismally, the suns rays hitting the ocean and making it sparkle radiating beautiful pink and reds, it almost took his breathe away. He swam back to the boat, grabbing the side he grabbed a bottle of rum and took a long swig of it, it was empty, he chucked it at the bottom of the boat along with the others he'd consumed during his small brakes, the first one had been gone a long time ago.
"This is the last dive," Jack gasped, making it final for himself, his voice echoed sounding lonely in the deserted piece of ocean and his head seemed to spin somewhat, he managed to have a thought that maybe he was intoxicated but he hardly registered it. The last time then he would get back on the boat and row the miles back to shore. The boat had a small sail he could make use of to take off some of the burden.
Jack sighed heavily, then dove again, this time it was different. The ocean seemed to be pulling him he tried breaking free and swimming up but he was confused about which way was up. He thrashed helplessly as he couldn't seem to break the surface, couldn't seem to find the light or blessed air. And all the while the ocean was dragging him down, he knew somewhere in his dulled mind that he was caught in a tide, but he couldn't seem to care somehow, nor of the idea that he was going to die. He felt his limbs become heavy slowly, his thrashing became weaker, maybe it would be nice if he just stopped for a second, just stopped. He seemed to almost be able to see his lady and a thought seemed to rise up in him unbidden, he would give anything if just to be at her helm again, sailing her as captain. The longing seemed to fill his whole being, making it hard for him to do anything else.
He thought he could hear music floating towards him, the sounds of an organ playing such a sweet sad song and the singing, a woman's voice softly singing to him. It rose up and joined the organs playing; the ocean felt like it was embracing him, rocking him gently from side to side like a mother does her babe. The song made his heart rise with longing, made him think of his lady lying beneath him somewhere, he thought he could see something dark rising under him, then it hit him. He was pushed up, up, up….and then it broke the surface with him on it, he spluttered gasping in air, shielding his eyes as the sunsets glare hit him.
His whole body convulsed, he brought up the bitter sea water, gasped in the sweet refreshing air. He finally managed to stop coughing; his bodies convulsing soon just subsided to small tremors, he lay down on whatever it was that had risen from the ocean and pushed him up. He sighed, feeling the little sun's rays that were left, maybe it would be good to just rest here, just drift…..
"Is he alive," came a booming voice just above him, he felt water dripping down upon his face, he opened one eye slowly, almost lazily, and then the other followed. It took him a moment to realize what he was looking up at. It appeared to be a man mixed with a creature; he wore a large hat and coat. Tentacles seemed to hang from his face as a beard, he had a claw for a hand and he looked down at Jack with eyes as unreadable as the depths of the ocean. "You fool," he growled appearing to be addressing a creature that resembled a shark, "This one was dieing but is no longer. You moved too soon…"
"I did not move it sir, the sea, the ocean it pushed us…" the creature stuttered, his eyes wide in fear.
"Maybe she….maybe she wanted us to save him…" someone whispered from the silent crowd. "You heard the singing….it was so beautiful…." The captain, or who Jack assumed to be the captain, turned around violently looking at each member of his crew with a burning passion in his eyes.
"We do not talk of her," he roared, his voice striking fear in all hearts, echoing over the ocean, "We do not mention her ever, or I'll have you all whipped and shoved in the locker."
The captain looked down at Jack, and then knelt putting his face up to Jack's looking him in the eye. He cocked his head contemplatively; it was as if he was trying to look deeply into Jack's soul.
"Are you afraid of death, hm?" he asked Jack softly, leaning closer. Jack stared right back; he could not break the gaze even if he wanted to.
"No," Jack said softly, he said it because it was true there were far worse things then death. He heard some of the crew laughing jeering at him, someone got out a knife, and the captain did nothing, just gazed into his eyes, searching for something.
"What are you afraid of then, hm?" the captain asked softly, "What strikes fear in your heart, a fear which paralyses you, which makes you choke and will not let go. What drives a fiery passion to you yet creates a pain so deep it's unexplainable?"
Jack also knew the answer to this, in his dulled and tired brain he could see her unbidden. "My lady," he said softly, "Losing my freedom….. losing my lady……"
The captain looked deep into his eyes and Jack saw something in his something like recognition, understanding. He knew what it was to love so deeply you could not let go, even if your ship lay in the bottom of the ocean or your love was the uncaring and ruthless sea.
The captain stood up, looked down at the helpless Jack. "I will raise your lady lad," his voice boomed out, "I will raise her from the depths she's lost in. But I want something in return, something priceless, something worth more then you can imagine. I want something you cannot have back once it is mine. Ye, like a small Sparrow can make her sing to ye, you've got something, something which is worth more then gold."
"Who are you?" Jack managed to ask looking up at the creature that belonged more to the sea then the earth.
The captain laughed and so did the crew, the deck, for that was what Jack lay on, the deck of the ship seemed to vibrate with the deep booming laughter. Finally it subsided; the captain looked down at Jack and held out his hand.
"This is my ship the Flying Dutchman," he looked down at Jack his eyes crinkling with a wry humor, "And I am Davy Jones."
Jack looked at the offered hand, then up at the face of Davy Jones. Nothing could raise his lady from the depths, nothing that is except for the commander of the seas themselves, nothing but Davy Jones. Jack could almost see his lady, whatever the price he would pay it, he would pay it for his lady; he took Davy Jones' hand.
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Pirate it was such a simple word but it was what he was now, a pirate, and in the young lady of a different kind standing in front of him there was a piece of it too, pirate. Maybe it began when he sold his soul to Davy Jones, maybe it began when he was branded by a man who believed he could control the world, but he like to believe it all began with his lady. His life truly began when he found her, when he was her captain, he became a pirate because of her, and she showed him his way to freedom.
He now stood on her deck, watched as Elizabeth walked away from him. He now pulled at the shackles binding him to her mast. He had almost abandoned her, but he hadn't and he knew in his heart he wouldn't. He was always planning to come back to her. His whole heart didn't belong to her completely anymore; he had grown and changed over the years. He no longer carried the name Smith, it was Sparrow now, and the name seemed to have stuck. He'd rechristened her once she'd been raised, dubbed her a more fitting name, she was still the same wonderful lady though, that had not changed.
The brand now didn't hurt; it was just a white scar. She wasn't the only wonderful thing he possessed anymore either, he now had a compass as well and other things.
He had said those words; "It's only a ship mate," the third and last person to say them. She was a ship and much, much more. His heart, at least a part of it, would always belong to her. She was his freedom and he was her captain always and forever. Now as he stood shackled to her mast it seemed almost fitting that he'd go down with her, he'd given everything for her. She wasn't just a ship, she was his lady.
This is random I was reading Wikipedia and I read about Jack and the Pearl and I had this sudden urge to write this. It's only a one shot please review and tell me what you think.