Scratched Glass

Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I don't own any of it, except my characters and the plot.

"You're gown is tattered," Karyane commented as the newly reconciled sisters sat on their beds – one bed with one girl on one side of the room and one bed with the other girl on the other side of the room – staring apathetically into space.

"Forget the gown, I'm going to go bathe. You should too," Zenakabee suggested as she looked at her reflection in a small mirror that hung from the wall. "If anyone from home saw you, they wouldn't be able to recognize you."

It was true. Karyane, in the past few weeks, had changed quite a bit. Right before they had reached Tortuga, she had fallen ill again and this time it had taken a toll on her. Before, she was able to hold conversations, to walk about, to function with ease. Now, she looked like a frail rag doll. Her eyes and face that once danced and were happy now were dull and gloomy. The skin around her face was tighter – most of what she ate was hurled momentarily after – and her bright green eyes seemed to have misplaced their usual merriment.

Karyane seemed to have lost life. Attractive? That was what she no longer was.

Zenakabee sighed and left the room, deciding that if she didn't do anything about Karyane, her sister might just look worse – if that was even possible. She left the room, closing the door behind her and leaving an exhausted Karyane to herself.

II – II – II

"Excuse me," Zenakabee said in a small voice. However, the bartender was unable to hear her, so she tried again, "Excuse me!" she shouted, leaning over the counter so that the man's bent back was in her view.

The man jumped up, a glass mug in his hands, finally having heard Zenakabee's voice. But his quick motion took Zenakabee by surprise as well and she let out a miniature scream.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you there," the young man, whom they had met the night of the storm, said. He smiled, setting the mug in his hand down on the counter. "Do you need anything?"

But for a second, Zenakabee was unable to answer his question as she stared into his warm, brown eyes. The only thing to wake her from her unexpected and altogether sudden trance was the brown-haired man waving his hand in front of her gaze.

"Oh…oh sorry," was Zenakabee's immediate reply as her concentration refocused on the man's words and not his eyes. "What did you say?"

"I asked if you needed anything," was the man's reply as he looked at her weirdly.

"Oh well, Mr…" she paused, unsure of what to call him.

"You can call me James." And once again, he smiled.

"I need a bucket or two of water and I wish to know where the basin is," Zenakabee said, her voice returning to its usually stern and pompous tone.

"The basin's on the second floor, go to the very last door on the right hand side. You should find a few buckets with water there," he told her. But before the conversation could continue any further, the auburn-haired girl left.

II – II – II

"Let's go into the city," Zenakabee suggested, toweling her wet hair dry as she stepped into her room, wearing the violet-colored dress that Karyane had lent her. It was nothing special, just a solid-colored gown that reached to her ankles – as all dresses did – with a v-neck. But nevertheless, it was new, clean, and something besides the ball gown that she had worn for so long, and for that she was thankful.

"Zenakabee, don't be ridiculous. We don't need to get ourselves into any more of a mess than we already have," was Karyane's sullen reply. She was drained of energy; apparently her fight with Zenakabee last night had stolen her last dregs vigor.

Not one to be denied what she wanted, Zenakabee said childishly, "You're just jealous."

"I know and I'm sorry for being ever-so-obvious."

"You need to get a life."

"And you need to get a new playmate because I'm tired of your oddball ideas."

An idea came to Zenakabee's mind. "And I'm tired of your lack of ideas. It's obvious that you lack the brain power that I have inherited."

There was no reply. And no reply signaled an annoyed Karyane. And an annoyed Karyane signaled an accomplished and happy Zenakabee.

"You're stupid," Zenakabee added, just in case her previous comment hadn't irritated Karyane.

"That was childish," Karyane drawled.

"Fine then, I'm childish and you're stupid."

"Then you're ugly."

"Fine then, I'm childish and ugly whilst you're stupid."

"Not to mention infuriating."

"Add another adjective to my list of flaws, Karyane, why don't you? It's not getting you anywhere."

"Yes it is."

"Pardon, but I beg to differ with an idiot such as yourself."

"And mean." Slowly, the tables were turning.

"Well then, next time I'm being mean, why don't you just tell me and I'll buy you a lollipop. How does that sound?"

"This is unfair."

"Life is unfair, my dear," was Zenakabee's haughty reply.

"Only because people make it so," Karyane added, irritated.

"Interesting observation. I'm surprised that you even have enough brain power to come up with two cents to add to the world's worth."

A sigh, and then the question, "How long are we going to be out?"

"Only a few hours. We'll be back by evening." Victory was evident in Zenakabee's voice.

"Fine," Karyane relented, getting out of bed. Pulling a wooden comb through her tangled waist length hair, she continued to grumble – feeling as if though she had a right to do so.

"There now, why couldn't you be a good little girl earlier and agree with me the first time I asked?" Zenakabee piped cheerfully as the two descended the flight of stairs. The only reply she received were incoherent curses murmured at low decibels, which served to make her even happier.

II – II – II

"Gibbs, pay attention to me, not the sky," Jack snapped at Gibbs, as the former man stared out of the inn's window wistfully. But the edge in his captain's voice served to wake Gibbs from his stupor.

"Aye," he said, turning around to face Jack. And he found out that Jack was none too happy.

"Thomas Greeneley's still out there, Gibbs. I'm sure that you can think up of more useful things to do with your time," Jack said.

Sighing, Gibbs tried to explain his side to Jack. "Look Jack, I cared for William just as much as you did, but this is ridiculous. You don't sleep, you don't eat, this is insane! Will wouldn't want…" but he was cut off by a livid Jack.

"That's the whole point. You cared for him, I still do Gibbs. That's why I'm trying my best to find his murderers, while you sit here and stare out windows. If I don't sleep, if I don't eat Gibbs, it's for a good reason." His last sentence was emphasized, but it was the only one. He hadn't shouted, hadn't yelled, and hadn't thrown a fit. In fact, the only sign that showed his anger was his slow, calculated speech. Gibbs decided that this was more intimidating than the former option.

Sighing, Gibbs continued, "Look Jack, I know that you cared for Will. Everyone knows. But who are you slaving yourself for? Will? Mate, he's long gone and he's not ever coming back."

"For Elizabeth, for Will's children. What are you doing?"

The fierceness that was absent in Jack's voice chose to glitter in his eyes instead. But Gibbs still had one more card to play. If that failed, well then, so be it.

"You said that you would've found them by the end of the year. And Jack, that year's already passed. How many more do you plan on throwing away?" Jack remained silent. He couldn't say anything; Gibbs was right.

All the infamous captain could do was storm out of the inn, speechless.

II – II– II

Adelaide Ruele sat in front of the vanity mirror in her room, as one of her maids undid her bun. "My head hurts so very much," Adelaide said lightly, offering some comfort to the maid who was slowly unraveling the coiled bun. As always, Adelaide would wake up at dawn and have Marianne - the maid who was currently undoing her hair – undo her braid, brush it, and then do it up again in an unbearably tight bun. And as always, Adelaide would sit in front of the vanity mirror in her room during the evening, and have Marianne undo her bun, brush her hair, and then do her hair up in the same insufferable bun again. Some people would call it a waste of money, keeping an extra maid (excluding the extra five who were kept for Adelaide's clothing and bathing), just to do her hair. But then again, whoever considered a personal maid to be a waste of money obviously wasn't married to Edward Ruele. And that's exactly why she, Adelaide, was. (She thanked God for her good fortune every day).

"Marianne, I was thinking about my love," Adelaide said wistfully, out of the blue, as Marianne let loose Adelaide's thick brown strands. The mahogany hairs, soft as silk, fell down Adelaide's back, ending a few inches above her waist.

"Mr. Ruele?" the fairly young maid asked. Marianne was used to having her lady, Adelaide Ruele, tell her a great deal whilst she combed her lady's hair. Marianne, at the young age of ten, had been hired to work for Adelaide (specifically to brush her hair) a year after the woman's marriage to Edward Ruele. She knew all about Adelaide's affection for her daughter, scorn for her step-daughter, and indifference for her husband. In fact, she had practically watched Karyane grow up. When she began her position, Karyane was five and now, seventeen years later, she was twenty-seven and Karyane twenty-two.

"No, you silly girl. Why would I be thinking of Edward?" Adelaide asked, laughing lightly, as if though the very idea was absurd. The woman's words brought the maid out of her thoughts.

"Then, if I may ask, who is it that you were thinking of?" Marianne asked, making sure that her tone was polite all the while.

"Why, my lovely Karyane. Who else?" Adelaide said with another one of her haughty laughs. Marianne nodded her head, showing that she understood, and waited for her lady to continue. In due time, Adelaide did.

"She's in Haiti, you know? With her father of course," Adelaide started off, maintaining her lofty tone, although it softened a little at the mention of her daughter.

"I'm worried that that other brat of a child might ruin my angel, but everyone has their scruples." Another pause. Marianne didn't know what scruples meant; she was a simple maid. And Adelaide had used the word, specifically, because she knew that her maid didn't know it, making her all that much crueler.

But the conversation continued. "I suppose that I trust my daughter not to associate with such riffraff, and that's all that matters." Marianne held her tongue and didn't point out that that riffraff was actually Karyane's sister. Step, yes of course, but she was still Karyane's sister. "I was thinking about my beautiful angel. She'll be married soon, but oh, it pains me so. I want her to get married to Thomas, I really do, but I'm her mother. My heart longs to keep her by my side forevermore, but…I know that I can't."

Another pause.

"You know Marianne, I had my doubts about Thomas at first, as did Karyane." Then quiet, as Adelaide thought over her statement, "Then again, Karyane still has doubts against that poor fellow. But I'm sure that, over the course of time, she will learn to adjust herself. But forget that, I was talking about my doubts. Thomas wasn't a prosperous man two years ago and he certainly wasn't about to inherit a fortune from his dirt-poor family. They're nice folks ,really, but haven't a shilling in their empty pockets. I can't deny that I wanted nothing to do with him or his family at first."

A further break in the flow of words; Marianne had learned that that was how Adelaide's conversations went.

"But then Edward convinced me to believe in Thomas. Within months, the boy entered into the merchant business and now look at him. It's only been two years and he's become even more successful than men who started out five years ago. Given a few more years and a beautiful, loving young lady like Karyane, he can even come close to Edward's status. It's amazing how much promise he's shown." Here Adelaide turned her neck to look Marianne in the eye. "Isn't it?" she asked, a genuine smile forming on the usually stolid lady's face.

"Yes of course it is," Marianne replied, offering a smile back at Adelaide.

But for some reason, unknown to Marianne, the comment made Adelaide frown.

"He's not good for her, is he?" Adelaide asked slowly, the frown on her face similar to that of a disappointed girl on Christmas day.

"Of…of course he is," Marianne's resolve to please her lady faltered when she saw the look of discontent and unhappiness on Adelaide's face.

Inhaling a shaky breath, Adelaide continued, "I'm lost. I have no idea of what to do. Karyane's a beautiful girl, like a bird, a graceful swan even. I honestly think this marriage will benefit her more than hurt her but I…I just don't know anymore." She held onto the dresser with her long, slender fingers that now seemed sickly instead of elegant. When she made eye contact with Marianne through the mirror again, the maid felt as if though her lady had suddenly and inexplicably aged.

"So I suppose I'll have to hope." And with that, Adelaide put on an unmoved expression, so that maybe her depression wouldn't leak through her pathetic excuse for a mask.

II – II – II

"What do you think of Jack?" Zenakabee asked Karyane, her question coming out of nowhere.

Karyane chewed her bread, mulling over her thoughts for a while before answering. She had acquired a new tendency of taking her time before replying. "Not much. I suppose that he isn't nearly as bad as I would've originally thought he was." She was about to take a sip of water from her steel mug, when Zenakabee's hand landed atop it.

"Continue." There was a determined, steel-like quality in the look that Zenakabee gave her sister.

Karyane raised an eyebrow, but didn't bother to argue with Zenakabee. "He's interesting."

The determined look turned into a glare. "How interesting?"

"Fairly."

Zenakabee snatched the loaf of bread that was in her sister's hand. "No bread either until you answer."

"Why is this so important to you?" Karyane suddenly asked, some of her skepticism deciding to become visible through her original apathy.

"Answer or I eat your loaf of bread."

Karyane grumbled, but decided that maybe it would be best to answer. After all, food was at stake. "He has horrible hygiene. Drinks too much and most of the conversations that he has with his crew are too vulgar and despicable for me to talk about. He really can be infuriating at times."

Slowly, as Karyane talked, Zenakabee handed her back the loaf of bread. Glad of the release of her food, Karyane took a bite.

"He doesn't talk much. I ask him questions from time to time, but that's probably it. His moods vary from day to day, hour to hour, minute to minute. One second he's smiling, the next he's scowling. A very confusing man, I tell you."

"Have you kissed?"

Taken aback by the open question, it took Karyane a while to answer. "Blunt, aren't you? No, why would I? I'd be caught dead than seen kissing him." She received a skeptic nod in return for this comment.

"No, but really. He can be quite a nuisance to be around. Before, it was a different story since you and I weren't exactly on the best of terms and he was the only person that I was semi-comfortable conversing with. But in all honesty, I'd even rather talk to Thomas than that Sparrow man."

"What would you do if you saw him in a…compromising situation?" Zenakabee asked. Karyane raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I do mean if you saw him with a woman of sorts…" she trailed off, her vague statement hinting to the meaning of her question.

"What do you mean, what if I saw him? The thought is repulsive, really. I mean, I don't understand why any woman would want to…share a bed with him. But…what would I do? I suppose that I would sit back and laugh to myself at the stupidity of that woman. I mean, he's a pirate, really, you can't expect much out…" Karyane was cut off.

"So you fancy him."

Karyane suddenly started choking on the water that she had been sipping. Zenakabee reached over and thumped her on her back. After a few moments of Karyane sputtering, she regained her composure and took a sip of water to clear her throat. When she was all right and looked up at her sister to argue, she noticed a disconcerting smirk on Zenakabee's face.

"What?" she asked, her tone directing straight at suspicion.

"You do fancy him."

Suddenly, the frustration that Karyane had experienced earlier on that day and the previous night returned. "First of all, that statement is absolutely ridiculous and second of all…"

"You fancy him. Everything that you've told me about him says so."

Feeling herself heat up, Karyane tried to steady her voice, "Listen Zenakabee, I do not fancy him. You asked me about him and I told you the facts about him. What more do you want?"

The smirk widened. "Those aren't facts, Karyane, those are your views, your opinions, your interpretations of Jack. Facts would be that he's a pirate, that he is the captain of a pirate ship, that he steals, that he plunders, that he has an array of objects woven into his hair, and so on and so forth. What you told me were your specific opinions of that pirate."

"I do not fancy him."

Zenakabee plunged on, as if though she hadn't heard her companion's previous words, "I agree with you. I think he's terribly good looking. Tell me, is it his roguish charm that appeals to you or is it his disregard for rules and respect for freedom? Personally, he's not really my type, I do prefer more refined men, but I have to agree with you and say that he's very eye-catching."

Karyane's mouth fell, as she stared at her sister disbelievingly. After a few moments of looking at Zenakabee's smug expression, Karyane glared at her and told her, "Go eat dung."

II – II – II

"Jack's been acting odd lately, Anna," Gibbs told her as he stepped into the room that he shared with Anna and his captain.

Anna, who was picking at her worn bedsheets, looked up and asked, "Odd for a person or odd for Jack?" The sentence might have been funny, if she hadn't heard the slight hint of desperation in Gibbs's tone.

"Odd for Jack. And that's what scares me."

Anna nodded understandingly. A few minutes passed in silence as Gibbs replaced his shoes for another pair. Then Anna asked, "Will he ever give up this wild goose chase? I mean, looking for Will's murderers?"

"Probably never. I mean, he is Jack, right?"

Anna smiled. "Yeah, he's Jack all right."

II – II – II

Most of Karyane and Zenakabee's day had dwindled by with argument after unimportant argument and random visits to different places. Right now, Karyane found herself stepping tentatively into a small, congested store that had folds of purple silk and taffeta material hanging from the walls in curtains. Many candles were lighted and even though she didn't see one, Karyane had a strong suspicion that an incense stick had been lighted not too long ago.

Zenakabee was seated on one of the many plush cushions that littered the floor. She noticed that an ethnic rug (it looked fairly pricey) enveloped every inch of the floor and that this rug was adorned by many colored pillows. Karyane decided that a particularly shiny golden one couldn't possibly do much harm, and sat down with as much hesitancy as she had entered the dubious looking store.

Zenakabee sat on a large pink one, and in front of this pillow was a gleaming wooden table with various objects and trinkets placed on it.

"I still don't get why we're here," Karyane hissed to Zenakabee, looking around the place doubtfully, regretful that she had been too tired to protest against Zenakabee's wishes of coming here.

"Because I want this lady to tell me my fortune. She's a psychic and a mind reader. She's supposed to be very good." Karyane rolled her eyes as Zenakabee's looked even more pleased with herself.

"This is stupid, do you know that? I mean, how the heck do you know that this isn't just a hoax of some sort and that this woman isn't just liberating you from your money?"

The voice was slow, confident, relaxed, exuding poise. "Because Moana isn't ta type o' woman who'd do tat, my prett' little girl." A woman, her skin a mixture of dark brown and pale light creating an illustruous tan, emerged from behind suspended beads and even more folds of silk cloth. Her eyes were a deep brown and her hair an odd mixture of golden and white. Her long straggly strands were let loose and adorned her bare shoulders like gold-white vines that might engulf her at any second. Her garments were odd, even by Tortuga's standards. In comparison to her golden olive-colored skin, she wore a deep, forest green gown (Karyane noticed the golden embroidery, it was probably even more expensive than some of the ball gowns that she owned) that seemed to be a part of her body, almost like a second skin. The sleeves hung off her shoulders and allowed her hair to cover her front. Hanging from her ear, much to both girls' displeasure and disgust, was something that looked an awful lot like a miniature, live two-inch squid.

"Now tell me, Karyane Ruele, what must I do ta prove dat to ye?" Her words ran together and were indistinct, like that of a person with too much alcohol in their system. But the cool alertness that her deep blue eyes radiated proved the contrary. Her every gesture, every movement of cloth stuck to flesh, was relaxed, lazy and yet somehow, inexplicably alert. Despite her hazy movements, it was obvious that she was a woman who knew what she was doing.

Zenakabee, having no doubts as to the woman's credibility, rushed, "Actually, I would like your assistance."

"Don't hesitate, my precious, feel free ta call me by my name. What is it dat ye would like my aid in?" the woman sat down on a small black cushion opposite Zenakabee's gaudy pink one, her motions as fluid-like as ever.

Every look that Zenakabee gave the psychic showed utmost awe. "I…I want to know if I will ever find happiness…Moana."

The mysterious woman smiled, revealing semi-rotten teeth that Karyane (even though the very idea revolted her) thought were attractive. "Ahh, so ye wish ta know if ye'll ever be conten' in dis realm of ours?" Zenakabee nodded enthusiastically.

"Give me y'er palms, child." Zenakabee, slowly, like a reverential child, handed her upturned hands into Moana's small, delicate ones.

Tranquilly, the captivating woman traced the lines on Zenakabee's palms, her index finger moving like the brush of a painter. Every turn that her finger took was slow, idle, and yet certain. It was as if though the lines on Zenakabee's hands had never existed and that Moana had merely drawn them on with her magic.

A few minutes passed in silence when Zenakabee was asked, "What is it dat ye believe happiness ta be?" Her voice had a decided accent to it, much like the ones used by gypsies. Karyane suspected that she wasn't able to pronounce the 'th' sound and therefore replaced it with 'd's.

If you really could read minds, you wouldn't have to ask her that, now would you? Karyane thought to herself, her mind wandering elsewhere.

"Every woman has da ability ta read minds, most of 'em just don't know it 'cause dey're so busy tryin' ta out voice each o'der. If I didn't let Zenakabee say 'er own opinions, den I wouldn't be able ta read 'er mind, now would I?" Moana asked, her voice a bare whisper, her every syllable laced with calm and quiet.

For some reason, Karyane suddenly felt cold and transparent, as if though this woman, this odd individual that she had met just mere minutes ago, could see right through the every fiber that made up her existence. Karyane decided, her thoughts clouded with a mixture of fear and awe, that maybe silence would do her good for once.

"Happiness. It's…it's when you have everything that you can possibly want. Not just some of it, but all of it. When you can no longer want anything in this world," Zenakabee said slowly, her voice hoarse for some reason.

The smile on Moana's lips was a small one, an almost sad and yet happy one. "Don't ye know love? Ye've already found it, ye just don't know it."

"But I don't understand" Zenakabee said.

"Da human mind has a vay of delaying comprehension by ushering it in, doesn't it?" There was a small laugh. "Wait for a while den tink about it. Sometimes tranquility is da key ta realization."

"Th-thank-you," Zenakabee stuttered, her eyes still glowing from wonder. Fumbling around, she placed a handful of shillings on the wooden table, much more than Moana might've asked for. "Good-good bye."

Getting up awkwardly, Zenakabee offered a weak smile as the two sisters left the store, both of them marveling over the eccentric lady that they had just met.

"Good bye, my dears." Her smile was slow, sweet, ever-so-sweet.

"She's…she's real," Karyane whispered.

"I know," Zenakabee breathed.

It was funny how a single, supposedly normal trip outside into the city of Tortuga had gotten the usually uninterested girls so very fascinated.

II – II – II

"Is that…Jack?" Zenakabee asked, as the two sisters sat on a table, back in their own inn. They were seated with Anna and another crew member of the Pearl; Gibbs had gone to get drinks.

Anna slowly turned around to look out the window and smiled, shaking her head. "Yep. That be Jack all right; can't keep his hands to himself."

Curious, Karyane turned around as well. Craning her neck so that she could see as well, she saw Jack with a full-figured woman. The woman's back was to Karyane, but Jack's gleaming teeth and lecherous grin weren't. His arms were wrapped casually about her hips, his hands resting dangerously low. His eyes moved lazily from her face to her chest and the grin on his face and animated expression told Karyane the whole story. He leaned in for a kiss and Karyane found the sight to be revolting and yet she felt a pang somewhere deep in her heart. What a pathetic woman, she dismissed to herself

Suddenly uninterested and not wanting to look any longer, she turned back around only to find that Zenakabee was inspecting her every move, her every expression.

"What?" Karyane asked, fairly sure that this thorough inspection was somehow related to the infuriating conversation that she had had earlier with Zenakabee.

All she got for an answer was a raised eyebrow.

A few minutes later, Jack strolled in and was about to go up to his room, when he spotted their table. Grinning, he sauntered over and sat himself next to Karyane, much to her displeasure.

"So, what have all of you been up to on this wonderfully drunk island?" he asked as he draped his arm across Karyane's shoulder. Suddenly, even though she had often been near Jack, she felt like throwing him to the floor. Scowling, she manually removed his arm from around her and placed it in his lap. He merely watched her out of the corner of his eye before he turned his attention back to what Anna and Zenakabee were telling him.

Momentarily, Gibbs appeared with their drinks. It seemed as if though he had decided to order all of the alcohol that the inn had to offer. "Drinks all around," he told them as he took his seat. Soon, everyone was laughing and a few extra chairs (and bodies) were added to the table. In fact, the entire inn seemed more crowded and everyone had had more than enough drinks in their system. Two men were playing their fiddles loudly, playing away their jolly tune as men and woman danced, some gambled, and others argued.

Even Zenakabee had decided to drink a few mugs of what she had said was whiskey. Soon, she was a lot more relaxed than her usual self, regardless of Karyane's half-hearted protests of 'stop drinking this instant'.

Laughing, Zenakabee told her sister that she was too uptight, her words slurred. "You really should discover the wonders of alcohol," she added, before she left the table to take a stool by the counter.

About three quarters of an hour later, Karyane found that everyone else in the inn was in an even better mood – the wonders of alcohol – and that she was in an even worse mood than before. She was still sitting next to Jack, even though she had scooted a few inches away from him and was practically plastered next to Anamaria, who was sitting on her other side.

Jack noticed.

Leaning over, a mug of some alcoholic beverage in his hand, he placed his face very close to hers. "What's wrong love? Not enjoying yourself?"

His breath stank. "I'm perfectly fine, Mr. Sparrow," she told him and turned her head so that she was looking out of the window again.

"One, it's Captain and two, I'd like to insert my professional opinion and say that you don't look too fine." He decided to scoot his chair next to hers, a grin on his face.

"Like I said before, I'm perfectly fine." For some reason, Karyane felt a small surge of anger through her body just at the sound of his voice.

"I still think you could use some alcohol," he drawled, his face so close to hers that his breath fell upon her ear. "That is, unless you're not good enough to drink," he told her. His words made no sense and his speech was less and less clear with each swig of whatever he was drinking.

"What do you mean by not good enough?" she asked him slowly, stifling a yawn for she had been venturing the city streets the whole day and had been tired to begin with. She turned her face so that her green eyes met with his brown ones.

"You see all these beautiful ladies here, love?" He gestured at all the woman in the inn, most of whom were too drunk to be held responsible for their actions. "They're beautiful, that's why they're good enough to drink. That one right there, Beth's her name I think, very pretty little lass. Very, very pretty. Trust me, I've been with her y'know?" he wagged his eyebrows suggestively and Karyane's scowl deepened. "Very pretty and look, she' drinking. You Karyane, you're not drinking. So that leads a man like me to believe that maybe," his face was dangerously close to hers and their lips were hovering next to each other, "you're not good enough. Not pretty enough."

Cautiously, Karyane leaned in to him and lethargically took the mug from his fingers, taking a small sip. "Of course I'm good enough," she retorted, tired of being sickly and awake for so long and tired of not being valued. Of course she was good enough.

"Ah, now that's a good girl. You'll love alca…alcoh…al whatever it's called." He paused to think of a word that he knew. "You'll love rum." He smirked as Karyane took a mouthful this time.

II – II – II

Zenakabee went over to the counter. The same man that she had met earlier on that day was still there. This time, however, he was busy with customers. Taking a sip of her drink, she decided that she'd just watch him for the time being.

His job must have been horrible. Serving already drunk people even more alcohol and knowing that the results couldn't possibly be positive? Horrible seemed fitting. He didn't look delighted and yet he didn't look tired. Zenakabee found herself comparing his actions to that of a scullery maid's. Mechanical, he did what he had to do and didn't express a sentiment about it.

Strangely enough, she found herself looking closer. She noticed his hair; it would fall in his eyes and he would brush it back. His eyes didn't look twice at an alluring woman and neither did they intrude into a conversation between two men. It was apparent that he minded his own business.

Minutes must have flown by as Zenakabee simply sat there, watching the man as he went about his work. She watched as he came over to her, handing a goblet of some drink or another to a man on the way.

As emotionless as ever, he asked, "What can I do for you?"

Zenakabee just looked at him for awhile. He raised his eyebrows; it didn't seem as if though he was gifted with the virtue of patience.

"I need someone." The words tumbled out of her mouth, her brain not fully comprehending what she had said. Did she say that she needed a drink or money? Or was it something else.

His eyebrows went higher. "I don't sleep with women, ma'am, it's not…"

Zenakabee leaned closer, still not fully aware of what she was doing. "Please. Just…just talk to me even." Their eyes were still locked.

"Ma'am, I have to work, I'm busy right…"

Again, he was cut off. "I need someone," she repeated, the desperation that was in her voice the last time now replaced with confidence.

Sighing, he shook his head and asked after a minute, "What do you want to talk about?" I really need to get a backbone one of these days, he thought to himself.

"You. What's your name? Why do you work here? I've seen that you don't fit in with anyone else. You have very pretty eyes. I think you need to get off this godforsaken island." Statements, questions, they were all jumbled, slurred together but eyes as sharp as ever.

The bartender pulled up a stool and decided that he might as well answer the woman's questions for the moment. After all, no one else needed anything from him right now. "My name is James. I told you that earlier today. I work here because I need the money and because, as of current, I have nowhere else to go. I don't fit in because I don't want to. And in all honesty, which man in his right mind would want to fit in with a bunch of drunkards and thieves? I guess I should say thank-you for the compliment. And if I were to get off this godforsaken island, as you choose to call it, where would I go?" He had answered all of her questions. Zenakabee smiled, pleased.

"You could come with me."

He shook his head. This woman really had too much to drink for one night.

"Do you have a dream of some sort?" She sipped on her drink, enjoying the sensation of the liquid as it cascaded down her throat.

"A dream? My idea for my future's vague. I suppose I want to find a woman someday and settle down. Have some kids. Find a better place to live. Find a better job. I guess all I really want is to be happy."

The mug was a hair's width from her lips, but she put it down on the counter. Maybe she had had enough rum and whiskey for one night. "Just like me." She smiled another smile. Another real smile.

And this time, he returned it.

II – II – II

Two hours had passed since Gibbs had come to their table with drinks and in those two hours, the loud, but fairly safe inn had transformed itself into a rowdy place with yelling, fighting, brawling - the works.

And in those two hours, Karyane had also managed to chug down quite a few mugs of rum. Her previously ailing body had been rejuvenated by the alcohol in her veins. Right now, she was talking to an acquaintance about the bed sheets that she slept on back at home. If she had been sober, Karyane might've realized that her "acquaintance" was none other than a common whore. Both of them giggled as Karyane said the word purple and soon their giggles turned into uncontrollable peals of laughter.

Out of nowhere, a man in a tricorner hat whom Karyane didn't recognize and yet was familiar with drew up a chair and joined their conversation. Five minutes later, the departure of Karyane's acquaintance, and another mug of rum for Karyane, they were now talking about what the king of England probably ate for dinner.

"That bloke's terribly rich, probably gets all the women he wants," the man said, his words smeared together like the colors on an artist's canvas. Both of them laughed.

"I'm sure you get all the women you want too. And you probably don't even need all that money," Karyane told him, raising her mug to him as she leaned in.

The man smiled, and for a second, he seemed serious. "I haven't gotten you, love," he whispered into her ear, leaning closer.

"Hmm," she murmured, playing with one of his dreadlocks, twirling it around her finger as she bit her lip teasingly. "I'm sure you could if you tried," she told him. "You probably haven't tried very hard," she told him, her voice suddenly like that of a five-year old who strongly believed in fairly tales. Being this close to a man, and one that was as beautiful as the one before her, gave Karyane goosebumps and she had to stop herself from shivering in delight. They were so close.

She was intoxicated. And not just because of the liquid that she had consumed.

"You're a very interesting man, you know that?" she smiled at him.

"Really?" he murmured, his lips inches away from her cheek.

"Really."

He paused, simply looking into her eyes, not knowing that his gaze made her already jumbled thoughts spin haphazardly. Slowly, a lopsided grin appeared on his lips. "You probably wouldn't say that if you weren't drunk," he told her.

"I probably would."

"How can I be sure?"

"If you ever see me when I'm not drunk, you can ask me and I'll tell you just exactly how intrigued I am by you." To Karyane, it was as if though the ravishing man sitting before her was the only human in the inn other than her.

And suddenly, without giving the idea another thought, Karyane was kissing Jack Sparrow, presumably forgetting that she would rather be caught dead than seen kissing him.

As Zenakabee sat on her stool, watching amusedly as Karyane pressed her lips against Jack's, she thought, I guess she finally decided to discover the wonders of alcohol.

A/N:

There it is, the longest chapter I've ever written with 6,700 words. In case some of you have read the earlier version, I deleted some parts that really were unnecessary (it was 7,500 words before and WAY too long). I also had to go over it a couple of times, re-word certain sentences cuz they didn't fit and in one instance change Jack cuz he seemed OOC. One, I'm going to try keeping Karyane from being too Sue-ish and two, edit the contents of previous chapters.

And btw, Moana's speech is based on Tia Dalma's but her 'store' and character isn't. If you've seen DMC, you'll probably have a good idea of what I wanted Moana to sound like. Be sure to tell me how I'm doing with the characters. :)