11.
Once the spinning compass landed on the horizon, Jack looked to the moon and allowed himself a brief, wistful smile. Of course, it was him and the sea, always. Even so, as he looked at the white light reflecting off the sea water blackened by night, he felt deep within an unspoken hope. If the moon should grant a wish to a vagrant like himself, should she be so benignant, he hoped she would send him someone who wouldn't mind sailing by his side.
Jack closed the compass with a click, ridding away longing to, instead, focus on the now. He shook a hand through his hair, rerouting his craft for the hot springs. He needed a change of pace, slow down for a while and perhaps even engage in nothing short of new—whatever that would mean this time around.
He glanced back up at the stars, turning his compass over in his hands. Although the world tried him, trial after trial, he was willing to stick around for a while and see what she had in store for him next. Looking at the sky, Jack was ultimately thankful that, in a strange turn of events, he was indeed a pirate of sorts, although thankfully still unbranded. He imagined in that same instant somewhere a child, restless and lonesome, was looking at the sky and yearning for adventure, much in the way he would as a boy.
.
After tipping up her chin and offering a tender smile, Jack brushed his fingertips down Elizabeth's arm. She thought he might slip his palm to hers, joining their life lines, but instead he nodded his head towards Shipwreck Cove. Elizabeth followed close behind Jack. He was rushed but calculated. Once the high, arching entryway swallowed them both up, Elizabeth marveled at the inside of the Cove, letting nostalgia take over. Her heart was comforted by the space initially until her eyes fell upon a shadowed figure, lit by the chandeliers and candelabras.
There she was, the Great Esmeralda, all raven hair and curved figure just as Jack said. She stood in front of a pit covered by a dome of smoke, black magic, quietly reciting some kind of chant or spell in words that fell unrecognizable upon Elizabeth's ears. Suddenly, Esmeralda's voice hitched, pausing. Elizabeth noticed her own image and Jack's, their forms bright white light, swirling in the expanse of grey smoke.
Esmeralda turned, her eyes lighting with recognition and the dome of smoke disappeared with a wave of her magic-imbued staff.
"A Pirate Lord and Lady," Esmeralda greeted them in a disingenuous effusive welcome.
"King," Elizabeth corrected, lifting her chin defiantly and squaring her shoulders.
"Jack? Pirate King?"
Elizabeth tilted her head to the side, challenging. "Not Jack. Me."
Esmeralda's eyebrows raised then lowered in a feigned impressed expression, taunting Elizabeth already. Elizabeth glanced at Jack and she tried to shake her worry from his transfixed expression, frozen in a recollection of memories materialized before him.
"A Pirate King and Pirate Kingpin, then. My apologies—Captain," she corrected, rolling her eyes some at the appellation.
"You were expecting us. Why?" Elizabeth wrapped her hand around her smallsword. Esmeralda took notice, shaking her head.
"No need for that," Esmeralda insisted, dodging the question. "And Jack—A death passport?" she tutted. "No need for that either."
Elizabeth reasoned, she had a point. The death passport was rather unconscionable. Esmeralda's power stemmed from Jack's resentment towards her, his heavy heart. Why kill the very vessel of the source of her power?
"You never know when something could go horribly wrong," Jack offered, his eyes dark and distant.
"No matter." Esmeralda circled her staff to produce a wooden goblet from thin air, manicured fingers offering the drink forward. "You both traveled so far! Why not chat over drinks? I hoped we could all get along." Esmeralda punctuated her words by emphasizing the drink in her hand, her eyes locking with Elizabeth's.
When the offer went ignored, Esmeralda waved the drink away, the cup and wine evaporating into smoke just before the contents could hit the floor. Esmeralda's gaze fell upon Jack, slowly raking over him, drinking him in. She hummed, her naturally low register coloring with interest.
"Jack. Barely changed one bit. Although, I do miss your…" Esmeralda circled her chin with her index finger much in the way Teague did and Jack rolled his eyes. "I hope you're as charmed to see me as I am to see you."
"There is no one I am happier to become reacquainted with than you, the Great Esmeralda." Jack narrowed his eyes at her, his hand resting upon his smallsword as well. "All these years I've turned over in my mind what to say to you should we meet again and now—I reason you don't even deserve my words."
"Oh, I already know those words and know them well."
Esmeralda made a sweeping motion with her staff, willing a book off the shelf and hovering it in front of Jack and Elizabeth. She reached for it, instantly pulling her hand to her chest when the pages turned rapidly as if on its own accord, by magic, landing on a page with rushed and impassioned penmanship, many of the words bleeding into the next. Soon after, the scrawled cursive animated from the pages, circling where the pair stood. Esmeralda exhaled deeply, the smoke from her lips breathing life into those words.
Jack's hand found Elizabeth's waist, drawing her in close to his side as they both leaned their heads back, witnessing the words glowing with white light, the sight too remarkable to look away. As the words penned in Jack's hand circled them, Elizabeth chanced glances between the magic at work to the man beside her. She rested the hand not readily placed on her weapon atop his at her waist, noticing it was clearly difficult for Jack to relive the words, a curse. Jack was tense, listening to his own voice in an utterance of hatred for the woman who betrayed him, inadvertently branding him to piracy for good.
I curse "The Great" Esmeralda—and her lifetime and her lovers and, perhaps most of all, her memory. I curse her so that each breath she takes will grow shallower than the last, drained by her dark spirit. I curse her memory to fail her, to forget we were ever mixed up together. I curse her travels, her pursuits, and once again, her memory. I curse her to never know a moment of joy again. I will this so by the sea, the sky, and the—
"Stars," Esmeralda finished, her laugh empty. She closed the book shut from a distance, using her black magic. The emitted white light was swallowed back into the pages, then the book fell, inanimate once again, landing with an unceremonious echoing sound.
Jack pulled a face, ready to be rid of the weight, the seriousness of the moment.
"That was private," Jack balked, his hands resting on his hips.
"Only a fool writes private matters for the vulgar to find, and you know how vulgar I can be," she countered, her painted lips turning up. Esmeralda looked Elizabeth over, scrutinizing, then returned her gaze to Jack. "You hypocrite—cursed my love yet found a near-love of your own?"
Elizabeth's mouth fell open and she shook her head. "Me? No, we're just—"
"It's not like that, honest—I'm helping her—" Jack shifted his gaze from Elizabeth to Esmeralda then he crossed his arms over his chest. "I'd rather marry the goat."
Elizabeth turned to Jack, her eyebrows drawn together, and Jack's arms flailed at his sides helplessly at the insulted look.
"You're one to keep a watchful eye on, Elizabeth Turner," Esmeralda admitted, her voice low. "I asked the Spirits of the Sea about you myself and they affirmed as such."
"We don't have a lick of interest in any fortunes you tell," Jack spat, only to think it over for a moment. "But if we did, what would the fortune tell of?"
Esmeralda shook her head at Jack but relented, stepping forward as she spoke.
"I sensed you coming after me, Jack. After my magic," she murmured, using her staff to draw forward oracle bones from a shelf. "Curious, I asked the Spirits of the Sea if you were to find a lover who could ever match what we shared. I thought the Spirits were confused, yet, here stands my answer." Esmeralda paused, casting the oracle bones aside then performatively furrowing her brow. "However, I wonder why a woman, such as yourself, would be taken with Jack when there are much better men? He has virtually nothing to offer you besides someone to share a boat, share his pain with. Nothing more than a pathetic inveterate drunkard, really."
Esmeralda swept her staff forward, and Elizabeth's heart ached a little at the sight in the hazy smoke. Elizabeth wordlessly watched Jack in perhaps his most intimate of moments, glimpses into what he shared with her in the orchard all that time ago, all stumbling and slurring and world-weary. The flashes of moments were not laughter-filled, entertaining, and charming like the times Elizabeth shared spirits with Jack but lonesome, troubling, and revealing. Jack was a man of many parts and faces, and this was a face she never saw, perhaps because there was no need for him to reach this point when they were together. Elizabeth wondered if this was why Jack didn't seek her out sooner, too overcome by coping with Will's absence or rather, his guilt.
Elizabeth tore her eyes away from Esmeralda's display of denunciation, antagonizing a man with his own troubled history, looking instead to Jack. She wasn't sure how he remained so collected. Elizabeth knew if matters were turned, if she had to relive the days she clung to Will's heart, barely able to leave her bed, weeks without eating, and only leaving the house to tend to her horse Sparrow in the stables, she wasn't sure she would stand tall. She suddenly recalled a warm memory—moments on the isle where she first felt Jack's arms around her in circumstances outside of rescue, a state of cheerful drunkenness. However, the memory colored with the recollection of the words she spoke to him moments before.
"So that's it, then? That's the secret, grand adventure of the infamous Jack Sparrow. You spent three days lying on a beach drinking rum."
"Jack," Elizabeth prompted, returned to the present moment. She rested a hand on his shoulder.
"It's a remarkable thing, love," Jack said, a near-whisper, avoiding her eyes, "seeing someone the way they are instead of as we hope them to be."
He didn't look at her. She wished he would look at her. She would do nearly anything for those eyes. Always.
He's just a man, Elizabeth reminded herself for the second time that day.
"Stop. You've had your fun. Stop tormenting him," Elizabeth said, hating the way her voice shook as she glared at Esmeralda.
"I never thought I'd see the day Jack Sparrow needs protecting from a fragile young woman."
"Elizabeth," Jack started, his voice low and steady, "she wants to get a rise out of you. She fears she will lose her power. She's unaware there's no reason to deter you. We could never—You would never," he paused, refusing to speak his regretful thought. "Esmeralda only has power as long as a heart is weighed down by her betrayal."
Elizabeth looked down at the cavern floor, unsure how matters would unfold. She wished they talked it over. They should have formed a plan. Why didn't they form a plan?
Jack pointedly looked to Esmeralda. "Elizabeth is married. This serves no purpose." Jack waved the smoke away and Esmeralda ridded the magic away with a gesture of her hand.
"I wouldn't say 'no purpose.' You're more alluring in pain, Jack," Esmeralda said, smiling wickedly, and Elizabeth clenched her jaw at the woman's twisted cruelness. "Oh, I nearly forgot. I promised myself to reintroduce you properly once you came crawling back. I think it's time for the family reunion," Esmeralda cheered, divining the book forward once again.
Jack caught the book instinctively then turned it over in his hands. He flipped through a few pages, recognizing the pages of sea journal, however, he didn't recognize the cover. Esmeralda had the pages rebound. She nodded towards the leather-bound book, twisting a finger through her long raven hair.
Jack's gaze met Esmeralda's. "What's the meaning of this?"
"Such impassioned, spiritual writing deserves a binding only proper of such much like… the body bounds the soul." Esmeralda's eyes were alight with satisfaction as Jack pieced together her words. "What better to bind your words than the very skin which once bound you? Your mother, she binds a book beautifully."
"You," Jack gritted his teeth, "are more troubled than I could ever imagine," he finished, the book in his hands now feeling improper to hold, bound by his late mother's skin.
Elizabeth felt ill at the thought. She drew her arms around herself, hyperaware of her own skin, knowing a fear she never thought to have. If they didn't make it out alive, would Esmeralda tear her flesh from her bones as well? Would she end up the binding for a spell book?
"Troubled," Esmeralda said through a laugh. "You have no idea. But aren't we all? Your mother, she was a troubled soul as well. Troubled souls serve people like us well, Jack, people who value ambition over morality."
Jack shook his head, looking up from the book bound in human skin. "I am not like you."
"Whatever helps you sleep at night," Esmeralda replied, her voice disbelieving and condescending. "Your mother's death made me even stronger than when you were branded by Beckett. A harder possibility to lose, I reason. She was quite the beauty, but the sound of her screams challenged even her looks."
Jack drew his sword, and with the swiftness he had it at Esmeralda's neck, Elizabeth would think Jack held magic of his own had she not known better.
"And your screams may challenge hers."
"Jack." Esmeralda smiled. "I wouldn't go killing me just yet. Remember those curse tablets you never used? Well, I was saving them for a special occasion."
Jack lowered his weapon when Esmeralda divined forward two stone slabs, each engraved with Jack and Elizabeth's names respectively and symbols Elizabeth couldn't decipher.
"If you kill me, Elizabeth's death will follow soon after. And your own fate? Bound to this Cove for the rest of your days, save for three every eight moon cycles." Esmeralda tilted her head at Jack, sighing contentedly, satisfied with his reaction. "A fate you're all too familiar with, I'm sure."
Elizabeth took a deep breath, swallowing down her hatred for the woman, her hatred of her continual use of Jack's intimate history to her advantage. Instead, Elizabeth took Esmeralda's moment of silence of relishing in her own cleverness to refocus their priorities. Elizabeth's gaze locked on Esmeralda's staff. There truly was no way to use Esmeralda as bait to call Will save for destroying the staff first. Logically, this would revoke the curse from those tablets— unless, she was bluffing to begin with—and any other harm that may come their way from her hand.
"And if we don't believe in your curse?" Elizabeth asked. She didn't wait for an answer as she drew her sword and made to cut the staff in two.
Esmeralda cast Elizabeth to the floor of the Cove, her staff diffusing black magic.
"Believe now?"
"You don't harm her," Jack demanded, his voice low but controlled, "viper."
"'Viper,'" Esmeralda laughed. "Please. Don't play a man with a heart of gold, Jack. It's unbecoming of you. Remember your place in this world. You're a thief and a cheat. A manipulative scoundrel. No different than me! We both chose our way out of the poor, pathetic lives we were dealt—Witchcraft chose me, piracy chose you." Esmeralda closed the distance between them and took Jack by the wrist with both hands then forced his sleeve up, looking upon the branded "P" there. "It's why we got along so well," she whispered, her nails tickling the skin of Jack's arm. Jack was about to wrest his arm from her hold, but her taunting words stalled him. "If only you accepted your true self, but no, always one foot in and one foot out. You and that damned vision, that damned glimpse of impossible possibility. I hoped you would one day free yourself of that bad habit to play the hero. Imagine, if you had cursed two souls back when you had the chance, you wouldn't be cursed yourself by the very same tablets."
"You're right. Perhaps I should have chosen darker paths. If I had slit your throat instead of spilling down it, you would be with the Spirits of the Sea you care for so much. We would all be better off."
"Oh, my Jack hungers for blood," Esmeralda countered, wearing a patronizing grin, "is that it?"
"Consider my appetite whet."
Jack fought Esmeralda's hands off of him and had both of his own wrapped around the staff when Esmeralda's black magic bound his wrists. Glowing etchings of his own curse, the white light, burned into his forearms, cursive licking up his arms. The light illuminated the pirate brand, the brand she inadvertently gave him.
"Poor Jack. You were always running after the longevity of life, yet you never managed to find peace in it," Esmeralda sighed. "And I will ensure you never know it. What were those words you were so fond of? Yes! I curse Captain Jack Sparrow," Esmeralda began, her eyes coloring with control as she recited Jack's own curse turned back on himself, "and his lifetime and his lovers"—Esmeralda looked pointedly at Elizabeth—"and, perhaps most of all, his memory," she continued, her voice holding little interest, as if reciting a matter of insignificance, a list of ingredients, a child's nursery rhyme. "I curse him so that each breath he takes will grow shallower than the last, drained by his dark, dark spirit," she said mockingly, taking her own liberties now. "I curse his memory to fail him." She continued to divert. "To forget all else save for our severed life lines, our severed love." Esmeralda smiled. "I curse his travels, his pursuits, and once again, his memory. I curse him to never know a moment of joy again. I will this so by the sea, the sky, and the—" Esmeralda leaned in close, pressing a forceful kiss upon Jack's lips before her last word. "Stars."
At the sweep of Esmeralda's staff, Elizabeth screamed out when Jack was sent away, her hands reaching to her chest on instinct, her heart racing.
"What did you do to him?" she demanded to know, her voice filled with anger although shaking, fearful of the answer.
"I sent him to the worst place I have the power to. His mind." Esmeralda explained, her wickedness near-unbearable. "Oh, and I hope our Pirate King isn't too jealous, witnessing old flames and all. Don't worry, there's no one Jack would rather warm a bed with at night then steal away in the morning than you, I'm sure," she cooed sarcastically, drawing her hand up to Elizabeth's chin. Elizabeth tore out of her grasp. "But enough talk of Jack now that he's occupied for a while." Esmeralda sidled up to Elizabeth after waving a hand as if speaking of sending away a recalcitrant child. "What about you? You seem plagued less so by matters of the mind but more so matters of the heart." Esmeralda looked to Elizabeth, a knowing smile on her painted lips. "Care for a fortune, dear?"
