(Two hours after chapter is entered a review is entered that causes the authoress alarm. She quickly races back to her story and reads it over. Alas! Part of her story had disappeared when it was entered. Breathing hastened, the authoress hurries to correct the mistake and three sentences are added to the end. Not what had originally been there... but good enough.)
Mera Sparrow: Bless you, dear. I swear that whole Jack making birth thing was a typo. Goodness knows, I am embarrassed about it, though. You also pointed out that I had not clearly defined what the secret(s) were. Well, to tell the honest truth, I hadn't ever considered that being a problem (which it is). I think I sort of assumed that people would understand that Jack didn't want people to know his opinions/thoughts/ideas in general. He likes to keep things close to the vest, you know? But now that you've pointed that out, I realize that was a major plot hole on my part. (EGADS! A PLOT HOLE! O-O;;) I don't know how I'm going to correct this mistake, but I'll fit it in somewhere. I needed some more things for this fiction anyway. Thanks much. :)
Kilala81: Wow! Glad to have you aboard! Your reviews were great to read. Thanks for the grammar help.I always get confused about where to capitalize and where not to when interrupting a character talking with action/thought. ' Your explanation was quite helpful, so hopefully I've corrected all of that sort of mistake in this chapter.
Nicole Egeni: You're the pushiest reader I've ever had on one of my fics, but you mustknow I love the encouragement. :D
pirateobsessed: OO' Angsty fics? Uhhh... I've never seen one of those... -shifty eyes- I never write anything remotely angsty. -COUGHchapterthreeCOUGH- xD Haha, but I agree with you, mate. OCxJack is just boring because I've seen it too much. Same for Jack angst despite the fact that I feel like my Jack thoughtfulness might be bordering on angst. :P Thanks for your review. I love having new readers.
DISCLAIMER: Go back to chapter one and read that disclaimer if you must see one. I feel that if you didn't see the disclaimer in the first chapter you're probably not reading this one either. So off wit ya, landlubber!
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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Mara opened her eyes to darkness and, finding herself face-to-face with a wall, turned away from it flat onto her back. Her right arm fell limply to her side and she brushed her fingers against what was beneath her. Wood. She tried to stretch out her legs but found them tangled in something. She sat up on her elbows and reached for whatever it was. After feeling about for some time, she discovered it was a blanket. I slept on the floor all night.
The young girl's eyes then caught a glow of light coming from the desk. A single candle was lit in the room, casting a strange glow on the things around her. She shivered. Standing, she made her way over to the window and pulled the curtains open, allowing the afternoon sunlight to invade the room. As she turned away, she was startled to see the sleeping form of Jack huddled in the corner, a blanket tucked over his knees and under his chin. She didn't dare approach him at first, afraid he was actually awake, but when she listened closely enough she realized he was snoring, though softly. His tri-cornered hat had fallen down over his eyes, making it easy to imagine him smiling secretly, ready to scare her the moment she got close enough.
Deciding she didn't really want to find out if he was truly asleep, or not, she went to the door to leave. Much to her distress, she discovered it was locked and not long after that she also discovered the lock was jammed. She wiggled it, but it remained stuck tight. Glancing apprehensively at the pirate in the corner, she turned back to the door with more determination and jiggled the lock again, but harder. She suppressed a whimper when the lock still would not yield. She became frustrated and tore at the lock every way she could think of that might convince it to release. She stilled everything, however—even her breath—when a hand gently grasped hers and the smell of rum became saturated in the air around her.
"I wouldn't recommend doing that, love. You could cut your hand." Jack gently pulled Mara's hand from the lock and set his own to work on it. Within seconds, the door was free to open. "It's a bit touchy sometimes. The lock, I mean." He sighed and scratched nonchalantly at the back of his neck. "Hope you don't have too many kinks after sleeping on the floor. I would've moved you, but I thought it better that you got some sleep."
Mara slowly reached for the door handle. "Thanks." Her hand shrank back when Jack grasped the handle without hesitation and opened the door.
Jack did pause, however, to look around the room. "This is your room for the rest of your time here. I'll be back later to clean out my things." He nodded at Mara. "Relax until then, love."
"My room?" Mara glanced around at the expanse before turning back to Jack, her head shaking with distress. "No- no, you can't give me-" She jumped back as the door closed in her face. "Your room…" She turned and pressed her back against the wooden door. "My room…?" Her eyes narrowed as she peered around at the darkly painted walls. "Well, if that's so, then I guess I'd better truly make it mine." She marched angrily to the window and grabbed the black curtains with both hands. "I'm sure it won't matter since I can never leave until I lose my memory, go insane, or Sparrow dies." She let out a half-choked laugh as she violently ripped the curtains from the wall. "The last option seems the superior of the three."
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Jack clambered up the rope ladder that hung on the foremast and struggled his way over the railing of the crow's nest. "Aye, Gibbs." He said as he sat cross-legged across from his ship-mate. "See anything?"
"Not a soul, Cap'n. Not a bird, nor beast, nor sailing man. The seas are empty 'cept for us."
"Well, I'm sure the fish are out and about." Jack said with a grin.
Gibbs returned with a laugh. "Well, a'course, Cap'n. Them's the creatures that are always around. You just can't see 'em, so I figured no need to name 'em as present and accounted for."
Jack nodded, still smiling as his eyes shifted to stare at the door to the Captain's Cabin. "It's not mine anymore, Gibbs."
"What's that, Cap'n?"
"I gave my room to Mara." Jack's face softened slightly as he turned his back on what he had been looking at. "I told her it was hers from now on."
"Well, blasted, what'd you do that for?" Gibbs said, shifting how he was sitting to be closer to Jack.
"I don't know," Jack reached into his belt and pulled out and old cloth, then began to slowly polish his cutlass. "But this means I'm sleeping with you and the crew, eh, Gibbs?"
Gibbs broke into a wide grin. "You can be sure of that, Cap'n. We'll make you feel right cozy down there in the fo'c'sle. Make sure you get the best bunk, and all that."
Jack smiled. "You won't get the chance, mate. I plan to sleep out on deck every night—so long as the ship isn't rocking off its very cabin sole with bad weather. Won't be sleeping much then, anyway…" He sheathed his cutlass and turned to face his first-mate. "How about a nice, friendly game of cards, aye? You know, to pass the time."
Gibbs nodded as he slipped a pack of cards from his shirt pocket. "And I suppose you want to play 500 Rum, as usual?"
"You know me too well, mate."
"Real shame, isn't it?" Gibbs quickly began to shuffle the cards and deal them out.
"Especially since I'll have to kill you." Jack's eyes barely peered over the top of cards as he held them up in his hand. "Real shame."
Gibbs chuckled at first, but unable to see if Jack was smiling or not, fell quiet. "You know, you've been strangely moody lately, Jack." He laid down a couple pairs before daring to say anything more. "Is something bothering you?"
The cards drew away from Jack's face revealing nothing but seriousness. He laid down a pair of cards and sighed. "It's more like someone, Gibbs."
The gray haired first-mate hid his face behind his cards, pretending to study them while protecting his expressions of worry. "Well, Cap'n… er… This someone, he wouldn't happen to be anyone in the crew, would he?"
"No, it's a she, and it's Miss McArthur I'm referring to." Jack pulled a card from the deck. "She's driving every inch of me crazy."
Gibbs opened his mouth, but his attempt to speak morphed into a knowing smile. He tapped the side of his nose and chuckled. "I know what you mean, Jack. She's a wild one, she is." He sat up and glanced over the edge of the crow's nest at the Captain's cabin. So… the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow could be undone by an overweight girl with a big mouth? Odd couple, Gibbs thought to himself, but then, Jack always was an odd sort of man. "I expect there's not a lot of competition for the lass back home."
Jack's brow furrowed, but he didn't look up from his hand. "No, I suppose not." It seemed to be a rather large jump in the conversation topic; so what was Gibbs talking about anyway? It didn't really matter to Jack since he didn't want to dive into the topic of Mara and his troubles with her. That would too easily lead to conversations about other certain objects—ones namely called 'journals'. "She's got a boy back in Port Royal, or so she claims."
Gibbs frowned. "Too bad."
Jack snorted, his face twisting into one of disgust. "Aye. Too bad for the boy."
Gibbs eyes immediately widened and he hid himself behind his ever-dwindling hand of cards. Had Jack just implied that he was willing to kill whoever Mara's boy was? All just to win her heart? The old sailor sometimes didn't doubt that the accusations of Jack's madness were true. "That's a bit of harsh speech, Cap'n. The two might actually be in love. No need to be disgusted by it just because you feel a certain way about the girl."
Jack eyed Gibbs, his mouth open and unmoving. He took a breath, then shut his mouth. Didn't Gibbs feel at all sorry for a boy that was someday to marry her? In Jack's mind, that was hell at a peak of its fury. "I suppose. But this is Miss McArthur we're talking about here, mate. Think about it."
"Well, Cap'n…" Gibbs found himself at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say? Jack had just admitted to being in love with Mara—and to wanting to kill the boy who was courting her—but Gibbs didn't dare say anything. Love was fickle; it often drove even the most sensible man to madness, so what could it could do to a man already thought to be crazy? Very cautiously, Gibbs put forth a response. "Jack, don't you think it'd make the lass hate you if you separated her from the boy she was in love with."
"She already hates me, Gibbs. I've nothing to lose in that aspect." Jack rubbed at the sweat forming in his bandanna under the heat of the sun. What was Gibbs trying to get at anyway? The boy would probably be better off without Mara's loudmouth and bossiness, but it wasn't like Jack was actually intending to get involved. Heck, he didn't even intend to go anywhere near Port Royal, so how could he get involved? "I just cannot deal with that girl." Jack threw down his last pair, winning the game much to the dismay of Gibbs. He stood and stretched his arms over his head. "But I really came up here to ask for your help."
Gibbs squinted in the sunlight as he looked up at Jack. "Anything, Cap'n."
"I need you to play along with me whenever you talk to Mara. I need her to believe she's staying here for the rest of her life, savvy?" Jack sheathed his cutlass loudly, as if to make a point.
Gibbs pursed his lips, but nodded. "Aye, Jack. I'll play along. But you'll owe me a drink when we get to Tortuga." He smiled as he said the last part.
Jack grinned as his eyes drifted to look at the door to what was once his private cabin. "Thanks, mate." The lanky pirate sprang down the ladder from the crow's nest, heading off to the helm the moment his feet hit the deck.
Gibbs watched his Captain swagger off, anxiety clouding his thoughts. "Jack's certainly daft, but I hope that this time he hasn't crossed the line."
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Entry 792
Mara has gone and locked me out of my own cabin. Though, I admit I did say it was hers for the rest of her time here, and I did imply that she could never leave, so she has every right to believe it's permanently hers instead of temporarily… But I'm Captain Jack Sparrow! and that room is the Captain's Cabin aboard MY ship, the Black Pearl. I should think that no matter what I say, I still have at least some rights to that room. However, in her opinion, I can have my stuff when she's done doing whatever it is she's doing in there.
But she's making a ton of racket in the process, and I'm, once again, wishing I could throw her off of my ship.
What's going on in there?
I think I just need to get her out of my mind while I wait for the time when she'll let me in, but there's nothing else to think about.
Gibbs and I had a rather odd conversation up in the crow's nest over a game of 500 Rum. In fact, the whole conversation has made me certain that he doesn't know me as well as he used to. Am I growing that distant? Ironic that I've gotten so good at keeping things close to the vest that even Gibbs can't read my thoughts. It wasn't really my intention, but it works.
The craziest thing is, we were having a conversation about Mara and he seemed to disagree with me about how maddening she is; all the while he was definitely agreeing. Almost like he thought I should like her instead of hate her, but no doubt this comes from him only witnessing her bossy side and not her fiendish, sneaky, and snooping side. (Which is more proof that she's trying to rile up a mutiny. Now even Gibbs doesn't mind her.)
Blast that girl! She knows everything about me. My fears, what troubles me at night, what embarrasses me, the reasons why I do certain things… Just everything. She knows more about me than I do her—and that's a problem.
But I've decided one thing about my journals. When they're full they need to be thrown to Davy Jones, and until that time they need to be kept in my belt and nowhere else. The Pearl is too small to be hiding journals on. I can't make that mistake anymore.
Which is why I need to get into that cabin! There's a secret compartment I built into the wall where all of my journals have been hidden. If she finds it-
I don't even want to go there. She can't find it. I'll definitely maroon the lass if she does. A regrettable action, to be sure, but it'll be better for her than me eventually being driven mad and shooting her sometime in the night.
Or maybe I should just start with plan B right now. She just threw most of my stuff out of her door onto the deck and-
Bloody wench! That's a box of my journals!
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"Mara! Open the bloody door!" Jack pounded his fist on the door to the captain's cabin for what seemed the hundredth time. "I'm not asking nicely. Blasted! Open up!"
A muffled voice came through the door, not sounding at all ready to comply. "Come back after you've put away those things. Then you can have more of your stuff."
"Mara! I said I was coming back to get my stuff meself! Reason being, I did not want you to handle my effects!"
"Then you shouldn't have told me this was my room until after you had removed all of the items that you wanted."
Jack pounded his fist vainly against the door one last time before turning away and kicking at the stuff by his feet with a frustrated cry. Eyes narrowing, he bent down and scooped up the wooden box with the journals inside. A voice beside him made him jump and turn the open side of the box away from the owner of the voice, who happened to be Anamaria.
"Captain, she'll come around. Why don't you just leave that poor child alone for once?"
"Anamaria, really." Jack eyes shifted nervously between the crate in his arms, the door, and the woman beside him. "I appreciate your concern, but that's my bloody cabin she's commandeered and those are my bloody things she's putting her bloody hands all over." As Anamaria crossed her arms to communicate her irritation to Jack he turned to face her more directly intending to make his irritation plainer as well. "I told her I'd be back. Now I'm back. And she won't bloody let me in!" The pirate Captain's eyes went wild as his anger was revived. "The wench!" He shifted the weight of the box to his left arm and began to once again pound on the door with his right. "Open this door, Mara, or, damn you to Davy Jones's locker, when I get in there you'll regret this!"
"That's a real good motivator for her, Captain."
"Damn right."
"Captain." Anamaria grabbed Jack's shoulder and yanked him from the door. "She'll open it when she needs to. She can't last forever in there. She'll need to eat sometime."
Jack's frustration was evident, but Anamaria's logic was even more clearly expressed. Without another word, Jack sat cross-legged by the door, the wooden box, now covered by his coat, beside him. "Fine. And when she does I'll be sitting on my bloody bum right by this bloody door."
Anamaria turned on her heel, her head shaking with mild disgust, as she headed back off to her duties.
Jack watched the female Negro leave, still fuming from her interference. He certainly didn't want to wait five minutes let alone how long it might take for a stubborn young woman to give into hunger. And what if the girl passed out before she decided to open the door? He'd still be locked out and she could be dead before he got to take his vengeance. Grumbling, he stretched his legs out straight and stared at the wooden box. Now was his chance to drown his every written thought and plan to Davy Jones, but as his hands found their way inside the wooden crate and around one of the many journals inside, he found himself not wanting so strongly to destroy these collections of his own history. They were, after all, representing many hours of time taken out of his lifetime for the project of calming his thoughts… But having them aboard the Pearl endangered his constant goal of keeping things close to the vest! As he flipped through the pages, his eyes found an account of one of his experiences at the orphanage.
It was the day I first lived in a home for orphans. Before then I'd lived in two places: my wretch-for-a-father's mansion and the gutter. I arrived at that hell-hole with nothing but the clothes on my back and the small shilling in my pocket; everything else had long before been lost to me.
I was only seven, yet the very first thing I was told was that I shouldn't hope to be adopted. Nobody wanted anything but babies. Any child older than three was already set in their ways and too hard to keep charge of. It became clear to me that all adults would be like my father and to them I would always be something they would seek to be rid of. From that first day, I knew I'd only be there till I was old enough to work or become indentured to some place of trade. They made sure I understood that, but I don't think they'll ever understand just how clear they made themselves.
The journal was suddenly ripped from his clutches.
"Captain Sparrow, I thought you'd jump at me the second my door opened, yet here I am having to get your attention." Mara nonchalantly tossed the journal into the crate. Jack's eyes loyally followed the book's path from her hands to the box, then retraced the path back to her. He silently glared at her, unable to think of something to say. Mara was not so much at a loss for words. "And no. I didn't leave you any lovely messages in any of those books, if that's what you were looking for. I kept my ruddy nose out of your muck this time—and that's a promise."
Jack scrambled to his feet, action finally returning to him. "I should hope you'd have learned that particular lesson by now, love." He towered above her, his hand flying to hold his hat on his head as he tilted. "Now if you'd be so kind as to allow the return of the rest of my things I shall promptly leave you alone to retire in your room as you please."
"Why thank you, Captain." Mara calmly stepped aside and held out one hand towards the door, motioning for him to go inside.
"Don't bother thanking me, love. I'm in no mood to play etiquette." Jack tromped past her, but froze the minute he was inside the doorway. "What have you done?"
Mara grinned and stepped into the room beside Jack. The palm of her hand rested against her cheek as she watched his reaction. "Like it?"
Jack stared around himself in awe, shock and horror as he realized that the room was not quite as he had left it. Thin, white cloths—seemingly patched together like a quilt from other things—had replaced the once thick, rich, purple curtain tapestries. The sheets now seemed to be made of the purple curtains while what had been the sheets lay cut up in odd shapes in the corner. What Mara had been doing with the sheets was a mystery far less interesting than the rest of the room. As he studied the area, he noticed that the small bookshelf had been rearranged entirely by different standards than his own, the pens had been organized in rum bottles whose necks had been smashed off and piled on the desk, the contents of the desk were stacked on the floor instead of in the drawers, and the most curious thing was that the dresser door was wide open, and everything that was supposed to be inside was gone.
"Mara, love, where are me clothes?"
"Well, your shirts went towards the new curtains and your pants went towards two new pillow covers and part of a new canopy for the bed."
"But that isn't a canopy bed; it has no way to hold up a canopy…"
"I know. I had to use the wooden poles from your second layer of curtains—which I consider unnecessary—to make it a canopy bed. I think it'll look quite nice when it's done, don't you?"
Jack could feel his teeth painfully grind together as he struggled to maintain composure. "Perhaps." He turned around to face the girl. "Mara, I needed those clothes. They're what I so desperately wanted along with the journals."
"Well, you've got the journals."
"But I haven't got me clothes!"
"You've got what you're wearing."
Jack glanced down at himself, mouth hanging open as Mara continued.
"You're a scruffy pirate. I believe you able to handle wearing scruffy clothes." With a small smirk, she pushed past Jack to the curtains and began to adjust them. "I do wish to thank you for the room, Captain."
Pulling from himself his last ounce of calm and composure, Jack stuck to his plan. "You're welcome. And except for this accident about me clothes it's a good thing you redecorated. May as well be comfortable for you in here since you'll be staying on the Black Pearl for quite some time." He paused to smile before continuing. "Perhaps your entire life, actually. Enjoy yourself, Miss McArthur." He strode out of the room and slammed the door behind him.
She'd redecorated his room… That was ok. It could be put back the way it was. But she'd redecorated his room! ...Though, not permanently-
"The girl dies in the morning!"
Gibbs jumped in surprise. He turned and followed after Jack as the lanky pirate stormed around the deck. "Surely you don't mean that, Cap'n?"
"I do, but you're right I don't."
"I don't follow…"
"Gibbs, I gave her my cabin and she redecorated it! She's making it a woman's sewing and flower arranging heaven instead of the slobbering, drunken pirate abode it was meant to be."
Loud laughter could be heard from the helm making Anamaria's glee evident.
Jack ignored the interruption. "That bloody frustrates me, Gibbs, so I want to kill her but I can't; or have every British navy in existence, not just the navy from Port Royal, after my carcass."
"I see." Gibbs said as he scratched his chin. "Maybe you could just order her to put it back the way it were before."
Jack glanced around the deck, and seeing only Cotton nearby, continued speaking in a more hushed voice. "But I need her to feel like that cabin is going to be hers forever. You know what we talked about earlier, right?"
Gibbs nodded. "I remember."
"Well, if I tell her the cabin has to stay the way I had it, she'll suspect that I don't plan on her staying in it for all time. I won't be able to convince her."
"That's quite a dilemma, Cap'n." Gibbs pulled his secret rum pouch out of his shirt and opened it. After thinking about the Captain's request for some time he'd come to one conclusion. Jack believed that if he convinced Mara she would be staying there forever she would eventually give up on marrying the boy back home and turn to loving him instead. A crazy plan, but that was Jack Sparrow for you. "I'm sure whatever she does in there can be reversed later, Cap'n. Just keep your eyes on the goal. Stick to it and she'll come 'round to your level right soon."
Jack grimaced as he stared at the closed door to what was once his own cabin. The fire of his anger against Mara had been re-awakened in this latest mishap.It all made him certain he still hate her just as much as when she'd first come aboard. He watched Gibbs take a drink from his rum pouch."I hope so. I'm not going to live long if she doesn't."
Cabin sole -The bottom surface of the enclosed space under the deck of a boat.
Crow's Nest - Protected look-out position high on the foremast.
Fo'c'sle / fore castle The extreme forward compartment of the vessel where the crew often sleeps.
Well, I'm sorry this took so long to update. I've been very busy with school and everytime I sat down to write I realized I had something else that had to be done or I'd be road kill.
But I did get it done before a month passed! Haha :D
By the way, the reader responses at the top are a one-time thing. From now on I will use the reply button on the reviews to answer questions or comment on your comments. My reason for this is Mera Sparrow made a really good point and I really wanted people to hear my thoughts on it, but I felt guilty responding tojust her so I left a little note for all of my chapter three reviewers.Hopefully this won't get my story deleted. >.>
Hope you enjoyed this installment. :) R&R if you please!
-Alori
