Whoa. I actually wrote a chapter without instantly cramping up with writer's block for three months. O.O You guys got lucky. I actually got inspiration.
Huzzah for plot bunnies. :)
Hope you all enjoy this installment!
(A/N: Bold text signifies a sailing term that has a meaning/translation at the bottom of this chapter. If you don't already know these terms, here's your chance to learn 'em because I'm taking this chance to show off some things I've learned. To those of you more intelligent than I, if you find mistakes don't hesitate to correct me. Thanks!)
Paper Heart
As the wind blows through my dread locked hair, and cools my tanned flesh I almost feel adventure once again swooping down on me like an enemy pirate attacking from above. It's a feeling one never forgets. Once you've had the feeling, you crave it, like rum, it's an addiction you cannot escape, nor can it be ignored. I hold tightly to the crow's nest, lest I should fall, almost willing myself not to. It's a constant danger, but so is the life I live.
The life of a pirate.
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"Cap'n, Sparrow! Dauntless approaching from astern!" Gibbs cried, collapsing his telescope with a snap. He turned his head as Jack came up beside him and opened a spyglass to look at the boat for himself. "What'll you have us do, Cap'n?"
"Trim the sails, tune the rigging and sail close hauled for awhile. Keep the men ready. We might be in for a fight this time, mate." Jack looked up at sails as they billowed and flattened sporadically. He turned back to Gibbs, his voice lowered. "The eye of the wind keeps trying to blink so we might find ourselves having to kedge or even scull to get away. With our man power against that of the Dauntless, we're going to find ourselves wishing we'd picked up more crew members the last time we were in Tortuga." He turned his eyes back to the British naval ship on the horizon and sighed. "We're not ready for a fight, mate. The best thing we can do is try to stay out of this one."
"Aye aye, Cap'n."
Jack put the spyglass to his eye once more, hoping he would find it harder to see. Much to his dismay, the image was closer and clearer than ever. Muttering, he stuffed the spyglass into his belt and swaggered off to see about the helm. "Bloody Brits have always got to come after me; they never leave me alone."
"They wouldn't be so persistent if you'd stop kidnapping their women-folk."
Jack shrugged off the comment and gripped the wheel with both hands. "Anamaria, love, we're pirates or aren't we pirates?" He turned his head to give her a skeptical glare.
"Oh, we're pirates, alright. I'm just not sure when we became brutes."
It didn't take long for Jack to turn himself back to the wheel, face full of frustrated anger. "Sure," He mumbled under his breath. "the lass snoops in my journal and I'm the brute." With a heavy sigh, he leaned into his left hip and watched his crew scurry about. Now, not only did the girl know his secrets, she was trying to muster up a mutiny. Damn the wench, he thought to himself, how could any of his crew be on her side?
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Entry 790
There's not a bit of breeze to be felt—not even a backwind to take us the way we don't wish to go; yet the Dauntless makes no move to kedge, so we'll save our strength until it does.
I've never felt as weary as I do now. We've been on the brink of a battle for a day now and I've been on the brink of losing all control. Just knowing that Mara could reveal my thoughts at any time is driving me utterly mad. Moreover, I can't decide how I should approach the girl about it. Shall I hint at my frustration or just confront her directly? If it weren't for the fact that I'm the one holding the pistol, I'd be entirely at her mercy.
And that's a first.
I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. I'm the most infamous pirate in all of the Caribbean (soon to be the world, heh). And I'm the one who ransacked Nassau Port without firing a shot.
But what does any of it matter when one girl knows every secret that could undo the mystery that is Captain Jack Sparrow?
I never could have foreseen this disaster, nor can I foresee the girl's reaction to our future confrontation. Is this my fault for writing my secrets in a journal?
Or am I truly just a victim of circumstances?
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Cotton turned his head and squinted to shield his eyes from the sun. Jack had come out of his cabin earlier than usual. The old, mute sailor fingered the rigging and paused to study its roughness with as much scrutiny as he studied his Captain. He was mute, but he knew more about Jack Sparrow than anyone in the crew. Always silent, he watched everything that went on around the Black Pearl and he alone knew what Jack was really doing inside that cabin. At least, he was pretty sure he was the only one who knew Jack kept a journal. The Captain would spend at least an hour every day secluded in his cabin, writing about the events of the day, and his thoughts. Cotton had never dared, however, to read the entire journal to find out what it said. He had read a page or two when he had first become a member of Jack's crew, but had since then stayed out of it.
Jack, as he strode across the deck, appeared far more agitated than usual, but Cotton was of a mind to attribute it to the lack of wind and the Brits not far behind, if Jack's eyes hadn't flicked toward the galley with disgust written all over his features. The sound of Mara McArthur's loud, bossy voice floated up the breezeway and met Cotton's ears. Ah. So that was the cause of his agitation. Certainly, the girl had been a bit of an irritation to much of the crew over the time she'd been aboard, but nothing that should merit such fire as was in the Captain's eyes. Was there something he didn't know about? Some conversation he'd missed? Cotton turned back to his work with a sigh. He'd have a lot of snooping to do later in order to solve this mystery, but in the mean time, he didn't care to evoke the wrath of Gibbs.
He'd have plenty of time to eavesdrop when his work was done.
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Jack leaned against the foremast his beaded dreadlocks knocking softly against the tall wooden spar behind him. He still didn't know what to do. He frowned and raised his hand to his face; it was dirty. He sighed and began to try to rub away the dirt that had sunk into every crack and crevice of his hand. The sleeve of his shirt fell away from his wrist in the process, revealing to his eyes a tattoo and an old scar. He turned his wrist to examine the markings. All the while, anger swelled in his breast. It was a P for pirate, P for pig, and a P for person scorned by anyone of 'high stature'. With an oath, his hand fell to his side. She couldn't respect him because he was a pirate—a damn scallywag. Or rather, she wouldn't.
She did have a choice about this.
His eyes shifted to the stairwell as Mara emerged, closely stalked by Anamaria. Most of the crew was still below deck, save for the girl and Ana, Gibbs and the mute Cotton. Gibbs could be trusted, Anamaria could be sent below, and Cotton couldn't repeat anything he heard anyway. Talk about opportune moment. He watched as Mara caught his gaze and turned away with a small smile he couldn't interpret. Had she guessed what he was thinking? Was she prepared for what he would say? On the other hand, perhaps she was mocking him because she knew the infamous Jack Sparrow had feelings. His mind was made up. He stepped out to face astern from whence Mara had come and cleared his throat.
"Ana, love, if you don't mind, I'd like you to go below while I have a word with our dear lass, Miss McArthur."
Anamaria's eyes narrowed and she proceeded to back away. She knew her place, but she wanted Jack to know she didn't like it one bit.
Mara was none the wiser about the exchange of glares as she walked boldly up to her captor and clasped her hands together. "What did you wish to speak with me about, Captain? Is something the matter?"
The girl's smile was more than irksome. "Actually, something is the matter, lass. And it needs to be dealt with immediately."
Mara took the moment when Jack took a breath to cut in. "If this is about," She paused and looked back towards Gibbs, who was perfectly well away, sitting at the helm, and Cotton, who was much closer but at the mizzen mast, suspicion in her brown eyes. She flipped her head back to Jack. "If this is about the note I left you the other day, I appreciate you being man enough to come forward and seek a chance to ask more of my advice. I can only assume that your approaching me is an acceptance that I am right and that you are wrong. I'm surprised, but pleased to see this effort on your part."
Jack took a step back as his breathing quickened. His gaze flicked to Cotton, who seemed closer than before, then shifted back to Mara, his eyes wide and wild. "Is that what you think? You think you're doing me a favor by giving me advice?"
Mara's head tilted to the side as she studied the man before her. As usual, he was acting like a lunatic. "Well, of course. What else do you think I was doing? Leaving you a death warrant?" Her laughter drew even Gibbs's far-off stares. "Why, Captain Sparrow, you're a silly pirate! Why would I do anything but offer advice?"
Jack was silent as he pondered his options. Think fast, Sparrow, he told himself, but words poured out of his mouth faster than he could collect them. Every speech he had prepared in his mind to tell the girl came like a waterfall. "You've read my journal, I know that, love, but what I don't know is what you intend to do with the information you've learned. To how many people do you plan to expose me? How much of a mutiny are you intending to stir on my ship? No, lass, that won't do. I won't have it aboard me own ship! You're going to be silenced if I've got to force you to visit Davy Jones himself to do it!"
Mara's face whitened instantly, then turned beet red. "You're as mad as the day I met you! Your accusations against me are absurd! I had none of those intentions, Sparrow; none at all!"
Jack couldn't stop. He cut back into the conversation with the fear that had been brewing in his belly now taking over—not to mention the large amount of rum he had consumed in his cabin—he gripped Mara's thick wrist tightly in his hand. "I'm quite serious, love. I will silence you meself if you can't handle the job. No one hears about what you know or else. Is that understood, Miss McArthur?"
"No! You understand this. I'm holding all the cards here. As it is obvious you do not wish to have your secrets told, I have those to blackmail you with. You threaten me with pistol and sword and I have the entire Royal Navy to avenge my life. Really, do you even believe for one second that you can win the 'struggle' you've confronted me with?" Mara's sharp tongue had outdone itself this time. She felt the gravity of what she had uttered weigh on her as she wondered what Jack's response would be; and she didn't have to wait long.
"Ah. So, that's how it's going to be, love? I'm completely at your mercy for the rest of my life; at least until death relieves me from my misery?" Jack's grip on Mara's wrist tightened. "There's nothing I can say apart from begging that will release me from this revenge of yours?"
"So you're saying you won't beg?"
"No."
"Pity."
Jack's grip released and Mara quickly stepped back from him. "Fine." He said as he stumbled past Mara, pushing her aside as his mind's goals switched from confrontation to escape. Within seconds, he was within the retreat of his private cabin, but he could not feel safe. His demise was entirely in the hands of girl that had sworn to hate him. And everything had gone completely wrong.
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Within three days, the wind had returned and with it, the steady voyage of the Pearl. The Dauntless had, oddly enough, never trimmed its canvas after the wind's return and had disappeared into the horizon, silent and unmoving. With its disappearance came the return of Mara's whining and pouting, but Jack seemed unmoved by it this time around.
It was impossible for every man in the crew not to have noticed the extreme alterations in their Captain's moods. Always sour faced and mostly silent, Jack seemed brooding at least and downright furious at most. All avoided him when possible, which was not a hard task as Jack had spent an increasing amount of time in his room. Every eyeball watched the door to his room when he was inside. They all wondered intensely what he was doing. Cotton remained the only one beside Mara who had any possible ideas, but even they were wrong.
The journal hadn't been written in since the confrontation with Mara over a week ago. Jack had hidden it away the moment he had returned to his cabin and had been too angry even to try to write. He was almost too afraid.
Mara took this as an opportunity to think about what Jack had said. Over the past few days, she'd come to several conclusions. One was that Jack was extremely sensitive to others knowing his thoughts and was an incredibly private man. Two was that he had assumed his worst fears had come true when he'd discovered her note and had plotted to try to correct what he had thought to be a dire situation. Three, was that he was as confused as she was at this point and whoever managed to pull themselves together first would get the prize at the end of the game. After all, her being his hostage had only been a game to him in the first place, so she figured it was only sensible to continue playing the game with whatever rules she had observed to be applicable. This meant, if she figured out how to say it, she could probably get anything she wanted out of Captain Jack Sparrow--even her own freedom.
With a sly grin plastered on her chubby face, she approached the Captain's cabin door and knocked. All eyes instantly turned to watch what would happen.
The door opened a crack and Jack's weary face appeared. He looked Mara up and down before nodding reluctantly. "Come inside, love."
Mara stepped in and watched Jack shut the door. He looked terribly ill to her eyes and she almost felt a pang of guilt for the request she was about to make and the blackmail she was about to take advantage of; but her own eagerness to return home silenced her voice of mercy. "I've come to negotiate a treaty for my return to Port Royal. This is the one thing I am willing to promise secrecy for. My freedom, for your peace of mind."
Jack's tired eyes never moved from their focus on the floor. "Aye. I see nothing in it for me."
"What?" Mara furrowed her brow. "But I said I'm willing to keep your secrets, well, secret! You only have to return me to Port Royal without demanding ransom. It's a fair trade!"
"Not exactly. You see, I know nothing of how honorable you are. I can't trust you. Thus, your promise means nothing to me." Jack's face lit up with a smile for the first time in a week. "You're trapped here, love. I can't return you to anyplace where I can't keep my eye on you, but I can't kill you because the navy would double its efforts to have me hung." He grinned. "It's funny, ain't it, when the tables turn and suddenly you're the one left lugging the basket?"
Mara felt tears sting her eyes; she'd lost this round. "You can't keep me here forever."
"Oh, but I can, love."
"No! You can't keep me here forever!" Mara turned and gripped the door handle with one hand and pressed against the wall with the other. As she tried to fling open the door, Jack sprung forward with one quick step and pressed his foot against the bottom to hold it closed. Mara continued for a moment to open the door, but all her tries were in vain. She was as trapped in here as she would be out on deck, but here she was trapped with the man she hated. The man she loathed.
The cry of anguish that arose from Mara's throat was terrible. She knelt down against the door, her face in her hands, and as she hid her face against the wall, her tears watered the floorboards.
Jack made no move to comfort her. Instead, he reached over and turned the lock before sitting down with his knees to his chest. He leaned his back against the door and sighed. Bowing his head, he silently listened to the sobs for which he knew he was responsible: The sobs of a young girl whose only wish was to return home.
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Entry 791
I'm at a loss. For the first time I feel pity for my hostage. Most would find this not particularly surprising (or even a relief), but it strikes me as odd because this pity was stirred by a girl I hate; someone I wouldn't have thought twice about throwing overboard if it had come to it. Just days I ago I was threatening her life over the fact that she'd read my journal and discovered some things I'd prefer no one know, but after last night...
She hasn't moved yet except to shift slightly. Surprising—I know she's not sleeping that heavily. She cried herself to sleep against that door, trapping me in here unless I dared to move her to the bed, but it doesn't matter. Should an emergency arise I'm sure the yelling will awaken her for me.
I'm used to the tears and the wails and the sobs that always come from the girls I kidnap, but the utterly wretched cry that came forth from her throat tore my heart to shreds. She's always been a bit more animated and emotional than the others, but that cry shook me to my bones. I truly don't know what to make of it.
The only thing I can make out is that I had her motives all wrong. She just wants to go home, she's overly curious sometimes, and she didn't even begin to comprehend what was being said in my journal let alone be able to use it against me. Her words were a reaction to mine. I jumped to conclusions and stirred things that weren't even beginning to cook.
She just wants to go home.
This ship is my home. I have a tendency to believe anyone can feel comfortable here, but I know that's wrong. Her home is in Port Royal with her boy and family and friends. I took everything of value from her. She brags of money and high stature, but she's like anyone. She just wants her home, freedom, and safety. From now on, I'll have to remember that those three things come differently for everyone. Home is not always a ship, freedom isn't always the open seas, and a pistol on your belt does not make everyone feel at ease.
Still, her personality irks me even while pity begins to form in my heart. I don't intend to take back what I said for that reason. Not yet. I'm still a man of fortune and I still need money to live off of. I'll let her think I intend to stick by my words until I get the ransom. Once I do, she'll be free before she can say 'Commodore Norrington'. I owe her much more than that, but I've nothing more to give.
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"Commodore."
James Norrington gripped the edge of the Dauntless's railing as he stared into the horizon. "Yes, Lieutenant?"
"Commodore, the men are getting antsy." Gillette watched as James's face remained passive. "They're beginning to wonder if we'll ever catch back up to Sparrow." He tried eagerly to swallow a large lump in his throat, but it remained fixed in its place. Norrington's calm, but grave voice responded after a pause that had been all too lengthy.
"Are you getting 'antsy', Lieutenant?" James fixed his stern gaze on his second in command. "My plan will work and it is not your place to go along with the apprehension of this able-bodied crew. Those pirates cannot have gotten that far along with only one day's head start." His eyes sought the edge of the sky once more. "We know where they're headed anyway. All villains travel to one spot when they need to hire some other villain."
"Commodore?"
"They go to Tortuga, Gillette! They go to the most wretched place of scum and villainy; that is where they go. Is that so hard to understand?" James turned and found himself face-to-face with Gillette. "It will never matter how far behind we fall; we will always know wherethe Black Pearlmakes berth so long as God himself does not smite Tortuga from the face of this Earth." He took a deep, calming breath and straightened as he clasped his hands behind his back. "My apologies, lieutenant," His face held an expression of regret. "I was out of place."
Gillette said nothing, but nodded and slowly turned away. In a sudden realization, he flipped back to his commander. "We're all worried about her, James. We always hear the horror stories about girls kidnapped by pirates but we know Sparrow well enough. He's a good pirate, but he's too smart to cause too much trouble." He reached out and set a firm hand on James's shoulder. "We'll get her back in time."
Coldly, James turned his eyes to the sea. "I can only hope so, for the sake of Miss McArthur-" He looked back to Gillette and clasped his own hand on the other man's shoulder. "I swear to you, she will be rescued and be wed while her mother still lives. It's Mrs. McArthur's dying wish that she be witness to her daughter's conjugal. I will not disappoint when such a thing is at stake."
Gillette flashed Norrington a smile. "I'll tell the men to keep faith."
The Commodore nodded with a brief smile and turned on his heel. As he watched as his men worked tirelessly to keep the Dauntless sailing at top speed, he knew in his heart that they would make it in time.
There was no second option.
Astern - Behind the boat.
Canvas - Slang for sail. Originally sails were made of canvas.
Close hauled - Sails and boom pulled in tight, enabling the boat to point as high as possible to the direction the wind is coming from.
Eye of the wind - The direction that the wind is blowing from.
Foremast - The mast in the forepart of a vessel, nearest the bow.
Kedge - To use an anchor to move a boat by hauling on the anchor rode; a basic anchor type.
Mainmast - The tallest mast of the ship; on a schooner, the mast furthest aft.
Mast - A large wooden pole used to hold up the sails.
Man of Fortune - A slang term for pirate. Most well-known use came from Robert Louise Stevenson's "Treasure Island".
Mizzenmast - The shorter mast behind the main mast.
Scull - Moving the rudder or oar in the stern back and forth in an attempt to move the boat forward.
Spar - A pole or a beam.
Rigging - The lines that hold up the masts and move the sails (standing and running rigging).
Trim - To adjust the sails, also the position of the sails.
Tune/Tuning - The adjustment of the standing rigging, the sails and the hull to balance the boat for optimum performance.
Many hearty thanks to my reviewers! Jillie Rose, Miran Anders, MeraSparrow, Nicole Egeni, you guys are why I'm trying to finish this thing. (And to the creators of this site, your Hits Counter in the Stats section is only there to drive me mad. So many people peek at my work and turn away, disinterested. T.T Gah. I don't like knowing the numbers. I just like to see the reviews. :P )
Thanks for reading my work! Don't forget to critique.
Oh! And come back and read more if the plot bunnies continue to grace me with their presence. :) I hope to have another chapter up within a month.
Reasonable expectations, right? xD
-Alori
