Scratched Glass

Chapter 3

A/N: Heh. Sorry for the long wait.

Recap: Jack was the contemptuous man and Karyane was the desperate rat, holding onto the rope for dear life. "So that is the problem."

Did he really think that? Maybe he was referring to a problem that had nothing to do with her? But guessing by the look in his eye, Karyane was the core of the very 'problem'.

"What do we do with her?" the man with the beard asked.

Jack seemed to contemplate for awhile, 'throw her overboard?' or 'not throw her overboard?' "Ah," he waved his arms, frustrated. He had had a very stressing day, he didn't want to have to think any further. "I don't know."

"I suggest that we cut the rope, we can't possibly afford another person. There isn't nearly enough food," the bald man said.

Jack eyed the bearded man critically and said, "Gibbs, I can't be that cruel. I've already killed one man tonight. I don't like dead bodies. Especially if I know that I killed 'em." Turning his head to a silently pleading Karyane, he waved his hand around in frustration. He finally relented, "Ah, keep her. But put her in the cell until after the storm passes. I don't want to have to deal with frilly…things onboard during a storm."

With a look in his face that showed obvious disagreement with the captain, the man who must be Gibbs grumbled.

"I meant to pull her onboard before the poor thing dies of blistered hands," Jack said sarcastically and leaned over to help Karyane onto the topmost deck. Noticing that Karyane wasn't taking his hand, he offered her again, "Take my hand."

But Karyane was petrified with indecisiveness. This man was a murderer. And he had just spoken of the man that he killed as if he had shot down a goose or something. Or, maybe she was criticizing him too much. Those chocolate-colored eyes seemed so trustworthy. NO! What was she saying? He had just killed a man. But if…

Jack voiced her next thought aloud, "If you don't take a hold of my hand, girly, then you can just hang there 'til your grip slackens and you fall to your possible death." As she looked down, she saw that he was right. Not having any other choice, he held onto his hand. She held back a shiver of revolt as Jack easily pulled her up.

"But don't be expecting paradise. This is a ship," Jack warned and nodded to Gibbs.

"Come miss," Gibbs said, arriving at her side and ushering her down below. Into an enclosed area, he took her to her cell, handed her a box of something, and shut the door of the cell. He then left.

Thomas felt a pang of guilt echo in his stomach. Where was Karyane? He smiled pleasantly to the man next to him. The conversation continued and no one noticed Thomas searching worriedly for Karyane.

Forget saving face! He should have listened to her. But no, he had to ruin everything by laughing at her shocked expression.

And as he remembered the exact expression, he mentally winced. Her long, black, flowing hair lay peacefully on her shoulders, a few strands lifting in the wind. Her bright green eyes bulged with shock; they didn't quite comprehend what was going on. Her lips formed an expression that could only be described as befuddlement. Then, slowly, her lost look took on a different countenance. Her visage showed set determination and a grim look settled like grains of sand settling in an empty bottle.

He loved her, he truly did. He wanted nothing more than to protect her. But she, for some odd reason didn't like him. He wasn't disabled, wasn't arrogant, and wasn't evil. All right, so he wasn't the best looking man ever, but he truly did love her. Every time that he laid his eyes on her, he felt that he was in the right place. That he belonged. No, his heart wouldn't skip a beat or pump at an extraordinarily fast pace. He wasn't that clichéd. But yes, he felt something for her and it was beyond the nasty thoughts of a young gentleman of his age.

He really did hope that she was all right.

Zenakabee was pushed into the cell and heard the door clanging noisily. She pushed a few strands of beautiful chestnut brown hair out of her face. A bamboozled look took over her face. What did that thief of a human want with her? What had she done wrong? Maybe she shouldn't have insulted him so, but she had her own personal fears to deal with. Even the thought of a pirate scared Zenakabee into an odd sort of fit.

She felt the soft waves rock the enormous ship and felt slightly dizzy. Pirates, ships, her mother. She was suddenly remembered of that fateful day. She screamed as the scene flashed fresh before her eyes. And as the grotesque part passed, she could only resort to crying. Crying softly, sobs rocking her body, tears relentlessly spilling down her face. They threatened to overwhelm her just as they had threatened to do so all those years ago.

What she didn't know was that her step-sister was crying for her, not too far away. And instead of mental stress, Karyane was experiencing physical pain.

Jack went back to his quarters after he had told Gibbs what to do with the girl. He laid down in his neatly set bed, the white sheets surrounding him. Pirate or not, he was the captain of the ship. And every captain was allowed certain luxuries. His were the beautiful black furniture that adorned his cabin.

He looked up at the ceiling. Aye, he'd have to do something about the girls. But what? He couldn't just throw them overboard; the ship had already started moving. Leave them at the next port that they reached? Maybe, but it still didn't seem...

Proper? Yes, that seemed like the word that would suit the situation.

Never mind that. Thomas Greeneley had something of his. He had information relating to the killer. Anger boiled just below Jack's calm surface. But he didn't know if Thomas would tell. If he didn't, then Jack would just kill him. That was the only thing that he could do. Tears pierced the back of his eyes as he thought of the events of about a year ago. He brushed them away as he sat up, his boots coming in contact with the floor. He had to clear his mind, after all, a storm was expected to hit soon.

He hadn't gotten Thomas this time, but he would the next time that opportunity came knocking his door.

"Who's there?" Karyane asked, the other person that was also imprisoned in the cell. She hadn't seen or heard anyone, she had merely felt them. She had felt the presence of another human being in the cell. How? Maybe it was because of the lack of emptiness that she had felt. The cell was fairly large, but something else also had to be there. The air in the cell was stifling and didn't seem right.

Maybe she was just hallucinating. Maybe the cell was smaller than she thought, for no one answered her question.

Just as the thought flared in her mind, she heard a soft voice ask, "Karyane?"

"Who are you?" Karyane asked, feeling as much fear as she had heard in the others person's voice. They were equal.

"Z-z-Zenakabee," she heard and a flood of relief washed over her. It was her step-sister. If she hadn't saved her, then at least Karyane knew that she was safe. Uncomfortable. Maybe, but nevertheless safe.

"Oh thank God it's you. I thought that it was some other horrible person," Karyane whispered, moving closer. "Are you all right?" she asked, resting a hand on Zenakabee's knee, making contact with crisp acrylic material. She took comfort at the touch of something so civilized as a ball gown.

"I'm so sorry for acting like a horrible monster to you," Zenakabee whispered, choking on her own tears. She moved forward and the two sisters hugged each other, crying. The two would bicker without cease like immature five-year-olds. They would tattle on each other, try sabotaging the other's dress if it looked too god, bit, pull each other's hair, throw the other's valuable items out the window, and envy the other constantly. It was normal for two blood related sisters, so it was naturally proper for two steps. But in rare incidents, they would pity the other or agree with one another because of a common trait. This was one of those situations. And their common trait was that both were stuck on a pirate ship and dreaded thinking of their foggy futures.

Edward Ruele laughed along with whoever was talking to him. He didn't quite know the man's name, but he found the conversation altogether amusing. And in a way, that was all that really mattered. He needed to occupy himself and what better way to do that than to joke over a thin and elegantly crafted glass filled with wine.

"Yes, yes, I do believe so," he chattered away merrily. All in all, the week had been very good. Young Greeneley had settled a rich contract that benefited Edward as well as a few more lucky men and now this comfortable function.

The only thing that were missing were his two lovely daughters. Now where were they?

Zenakabee and Karyane huddled together to keep each other warm. It was freezing inside the cell. If only they knew what was awaiting the poor crew up on deck. The wind whipped the sails of the topmast violently. And this was just the beginning. When the storm hit, all hell would break lose above. It would be practically impossible to stay in one place for even a minute without being thrown to some other end of the ship.

The crew had their fair share of work after a month of calm waters. And not just one storm, but most likely a series of storms. It would be a miracle if the ship came out in one piece. It would most definitely need repairs after enduring such harsh winds. And so that is why Jack Sparrow had ordered Gibbs to keep the two girls below deck until at least the first storm passed. Any man with even an ounce of logic would do so.

The two girls had shifted their gowns so that the skirts covered their legs. Karyane was the rather unfortunate one, for her sleeves resembled butterfly wings; they were short, elegant and made of frilly lace. Goosebumps covered the length of bother her arms. Unlike Zenakabee, her sleeves didn't reach three quarters of her arms.

"You're lucky," Karyane muttered, rubbing her arms as she inched closer to Zenakabee. In return came a giggle that was only slightly interrupted by chattering teeth.

"I don't know what you consider as lucky, Karyane Mauvere Ruele," Zenakabee added, a cold smile spreading her face. She rarely ever used her siblings full French name, but this just happened to be one of those rare incidents. "You're the one with the mother here," Karyane fidgeted, but only slightly. Over the past what? Eleven or twelve years maybe? That was the first time that they had seen each other and the first and last time that they had ever talked about Zenakabee's mother. At that time, Karyane was only five. She didn't quite understand what Zenakabee was talking about at the time. But over the course of time, she slowly understood the meaning that was laced into the words with fine lace.

She understood what Zenakabee's harsh words meant. She understood what Zenakabee meant directly. She understood what Zenakabee meant indirectly. She understood what circumstances Zenakabee was under. What she didn't understand was the pain that Zenakabee felt. And why? Because she hadn't been through what Zenakabee had. Therefore, she couldn't possibly understand her step's suffering.

"You wouldn't understand," Zenakabee dismissed with a mere wave of her hand. She too had noticed the other female's discomfort. Normally, she most definitely wouldn't have eased her rival's pain; she would have only made it worse. But as I must repeat, for what seems like the millionth time to me, they weren't exactly under normal circumstances.

"I'm sorry," Karyane mumbled apologetically, not knowing what else to say. What else could ease the deathly silence that had fallen whilst Karyane was lost in her own thoughts?

"No need," Zenakabee muttered and once again silence fell upon them like a soft, comforting foggy blanket woven from the warmest wool. It allowed both of them to escape their harsh situation and think of other things. Pleasant things. Things that brought cheerful memories along with them. Anything but the now steadily rocking boat.

The winds started to pick up. The much awaited storm would arrive soon. Gibbs licked his lips, trying to lick away the slicker of fear that had slowly materialized in his stomach. He would have to tell Jack to get out here soon.

The only thing that held him back was the presence of a raindrop. And not a drop was present in the air. Once he felt, saw, or heard the faintest linger of a raindrop he was to notify Jack. Those were his orders.

"Leukere!" Gibbs shouted, noticing that the man that was trying to change one of the sails was doing so wrong. If Gibbs hadn't noticed any sooner, the man would've tangled and lost himself in the vast sea of ropes. "Pull the one t'yer right! Aye, that one!" Gibbs ordered, crudely pointing to a rope. As soon as Leukere touched the right one, he nodded vigorously. "Aye! Now pull it! See how it loosens?" Gibbs asked.

Leukere nodded in reply. "Now notice that as that loosens, one of the other ropes tighten! You need to cut whichever one tightens! And double-check! You don't want to cut the wrong rope!" Gibbs continued to shout. Supervising Leukere for a minute more – for that was all that pitiful Leukere was worth – Gibbs turned his attention to other matters. Like the three crew members that were assigned to tie down a few sails to the railing.

But they had to make sure that the sails were secured; that could mean using more than one rope and repeating the process maybe twice. "Are ye done yet, James?" Gibbs asked. James, a fairly young lad to Gibbs turned his head at the mention of his name. Realizing that a question was being asked of him, he replied, "Almost!"

Gibbs looked about. They were replacing the white sails with black ones. The task was grueling, arduous, and took an eternity to finish. If they wanted the ship to land in a port as wanted as that one, they needed white sails. So they had replaced the tattered black sails with clean white ones. All this just so that they could go unrecognized.

It was a pity, so much work to do for something so insignificant. In fact, he didn't even see why they had to stop at this godforsaken port. It was so dull. Jack had said that it was important. Well, Gibbs didn't see what was so important about anything. Jack had ignored all of Gibb's protests and hadn't explained his reasoning. But then again, that was Jack and you simply had to live with what he threw at you. Complaining would get you nowhere and trying to understand Jack's reasoning would give you a major headache.

Setting his thoughts behind him, Gibbs went back to shouting even more orders.

The storm was going to come soon. Jack could feel it. Just by paying attention to the way his beloved ship rocked, he could tell. And the storm was going to be anything but light and gentle.

He closed his eyes once more, trying to elevate himself to a state of tranquility. But he couldn't. The thought that a storm was soon approaching their wary ship set Jack into restlessness. Now it would be impossible for him to achieve any form of peace.

"Ay, I hope we have rum," Jack grumbled to himself. He got up off his bed and went back outside. There was no point in being cooped up in his quarters. That was only going to prolong his job.

Karyane sat immobilized. The sound that she heard was thunder. Panic fled through her and she felt like puking. The ship rolled violently and it all signified only one thing. The storm had arrived.

A/N: There. It's finally done. I'm SOOOO sorry about the long wait. It's all my fault. I had everything written about two weeks ago except for the last part where Jack is thinking to himself. That's the only thing that kept the story from getting up. That and my laziness.

I will honestly try to get Chapter 4 up as soon as possible. Hopefully next week. Oh yeah, Plz review!