Disclaimer: ... A bit redundant now, don'tcha think?
Notes: Okay. The line-break thing is still down. I won't be able to get another update in any time soon, as my AP Euro has just started to kick my ass. So... Just pray that MJ doesn't get a lot of homework...
Anyway... Here's Chapter Five.
The Way the Wind Blows
By: MJ
Chapter Five
Ye Really Don't Ask a Pirate Such Questions
Day broke in Tortuga much earlier than Elizabeth would have liked. She groaned and turned, protesting the sudden flood of light coming in through the near-sheer curtains that were drawn against the only window in the room. Finally realizing it was inevitable, she got up and stretched. She walked over to the basin and washed her face. She turned back to her boots, and put them on, tucking her pant legs inside. She found Will's dagger—once again stowed under the mattress—and placed it in her right boot.
She turned, looking for Sparrow. He wasn't in their room anymore, and she panicked slightly, before she heard the doorknob turn. There was a pounding noise at the door. She bent down, retrieved her dagger, and walked towards the door. She opened it quickly, and wielded back, ready to strike. She groaned and rolled her eyes as she realized it was just Jack. He grinned at her and held out a banana. She took it and glared, using her dagger to cut off the top. She placed it back in her boot, and unpeeled it. Jack grinned again.
"Going ter kill me, luv? It'd be useless—how would ye get yer lad back?" She remained quiet, sitting down on the edge of the bed. She ate the banana silently, turning her back to him. "Wha's eatin' ye?" Jack asked, perching himself on a chest of drawers, biting into a large, shiny, red apple. She turned to him and shrugged.
"I'm… I'm just getting over what you told me last night, is all. And I'm worried about Will," the latter she said a bit quieter than the former, but Jack picked up on both statements. He grinned.
"Don' worry, luv, yer lad will be jus' fine when we get to 'im," she smiled at his optimistic words, and he grinned back. "Now gather yer things—Gibbs got us a ship an' a crew waiting down at the docks."
"That quickly—Jack, are you sure they're--?"
Jack cut her off with a rather guttural grunt, waving a hand in her face. He grabbed her arm and jerked her from the room. As they were moving down the stairs, he stopped and turned to her. "Ye really don't ask a pirate such questions, luv. Ye'll never get a straight answer." She was about to ask why, but decided to let it go. She followed behind him, but jerked her hand from his grip. She walked beside him as he stared at the docks.
Moments Later...
They reached the docks, and there stood, in a rather odd looking line, what Elizabeth had assumed to be their crew. Mr. Gibbs, the man she recognized from the night before, stepped forward, and gestured towards the crew. "Here they be, Cap'n, yer crew."
"This… this is your 'able-bodied' crew?" Elizabeth asked incredulously, but was shushed when Jack turned and glared at her. He turned back to Gibbs and he and the old man walked up and down the crew, examining them.
"All of them are faithful 'ands before the masts, each o' 'em worth their salt… An' they're all crazy ter boot," Gibbs said as Jack turned to stare at a man with a parrot on his shoulder.
"You, sailor!" Jack suddenly yelled, and Gibbs turned to the man in question.
"Cotton, sir."
"Aye! Mr. Cotton!" Jack grinned, pointing a banana that he held in his hands at the man, and Elizabeth rolled her eyes and sighed. She walked towards them, standing behind Jack as he eyed the man once more. "Mr. Cotton, do you have the courage and fortitude to follow orders and stay tune in the face of danger and almost certain death?" The question held a morbid air that easily made the crew squirm a bit in their boots. The man's face remained indifferent, and he showed no sign of making a comment. This angered Jack, and he stabbed the man with the banana, before he barked up again, "Mr. Cotton, answer me!"
When it seemed that Jack was close to shooting the man, Gibbs spoke up, "'E's a mute, sir. Poor devil 'ad his tongue cut out," as if to prove the point, the man opened his mouth, wiggling the stub that was his tongue. Jack stuck out his own tongue, making a rather odd face, as if assuring himself that his tongue was, indeed, still in tact. "'E taught the parrot to talk for him. No one's yet figgered out how."
Jack took a step to the side of the man, so that now he was face to face with the man's blue and yellow parrot. He stopped and turned, staring the parrot in the eye. He looked to Gibbs, as if embarrassed, but Gibbs merely nodded, so he barked towards the bird, "Mr. Cotton's… bird… Same question!"
The parrot screeched, which made Jack take a step backwards, before he squawked, "Wind in the sails! Wind in the sails!" Jack turned towards Gibbs who shrugged.
"We figger tha' means yes."
Jack nodded, "Of course it does." He turned to Elizabeth, who had scoffed, and grinned. "Sa'isfied?"
"You've proved their mad, Sparrow, nothing else."
"Captain!" Jack said, before he turned back to Gibbs. "An' the ship?"
"A schooner," Gibbs said, and Jack looked hopefully out to the large vessels tied to the docks. Gibbs pointed at a slightly smaller one, that seemed to have a bit of damage around the sides, and only had about three or four cannons on the starboard side. Jack frowned as Gibbs confirmed his worst hopes by uttering, "tha' one"
"Couldn't we steal one of the large vessels?" Elizabeth suggested as Jack began to mutter profanities. He eyed the other ships and turned to Gibbs who shrugged.
"We stole th' firs' one."
"Commandeer, my dear Lizzie," Jack said, wrapping an arm around the girl's shoulder as he pointed to the one he hoped Gibbs had stolen. "Nautical term," he added, as he motioned to the boat. Gibbs chuckled.
"Cap'n, tha's one of the navy's ships."
"The navy?" Jack said, turning to the older man.
"Aye. They pulled in late las' nigh' lookin' fer some Turner boy…"
"Jack… that's Will they're looking for!" She whispered harshly into his ear as Jack grinned.
"Where are they now?"
Gibbs grinned, "The soldiers are currently stationed at the Faithful Bride—tryin' ter find information. They also be lookin' fer a missin' prisoner." Gibbs's grin grew even more. "A Jack Sparrow."
"A Captain Jack Sparrow ye mean," Jack grinned. "I'm assumin' they're bein' lead by our ol' friend, the commodore."
"O'course."
"Then, gents," Jack said, calling to the crew, "we're goin' ter commandeer us a ship!" At the crew's raucous cheers, Jack led Elizabeth up the gangplank and into the large ship. He let her go, and motioned for her to get equipped with some sort of weapon or another. She grabbed her dagger as he drew his sword. He turned to the twenty-odd men who followed. "Search e'ry nook an' cranny. Bring me any naval man ye see."
They cheered again and went to it, as Elizabeth turned to Jack, aghast, "Surely you aren't going to kill them, Jack, right? Can't you just… make them your prisoners?"
"Too much hassle," Jack shrugged it off, moving towards the captain's cabin, Elizabeth followed.
"Jack—you can't let them just kill any naval man they see! That's… that's barbaric!"
"Pirate," Jack corrected, turning to look her in the eye. He turned back to the room and opened it up, walking inside, as if already claiming it as his own. Elizabeth followed, but he spoke before she could again. "Elizabeth, my dear, sweet Elizabeth, if I do recall, ye yerself helped a pirate ou' o' prison… an' if I recall correctly, there was blood on yer dagger when I first saw ye use it." He turned to her, "If'n ye think yer better than me all because ye don't have a brand on yer arm, ye better think again. Yer a pirate, luv, the blood runs through yer veins."
She grabbed her arm self-consciously, but glared at him. "What shall you have me do?"
"Stay 'ere, luv. Wif me," he motioned towards the seat across from him as he sat at the large desk. He glanced at the maps that were unrolled on the table before him. "It seems our dear commodore was going to search Singapore, next, an' as much as I'd love ter follow in his footsteps, it seems we've got a lad ter rescue." He was muttering to himself, the sound incoherent to Elizabeth as she sat at the desk, her head in her hands. When he looked up to stare at her, he grinned. "It's not a bad thing luv," he said quietly, but she heard him that time, and stared at him incredulously.
"Says you." She spat. He rolled his eyes.
"Stay 'ere," he said, moving out onto the deck of the commandeered ship as he felt the ship jerk under him, signaling they were pulling out of harbor. He shut the door behind him, and moved out onto the deck of the coveted Interceptor. She didn't, however, and quickly followed him. By the time she had reached the main deck, Sparrow's men were kicking their prisoners down the gangplank. There were only two, and from what Elizabeth could see, they were still alive. She smiled at Jack, who was talking to Gibbs at the helm. She moved towards the crewmembers, and smiled.
"Anything I can do to help?"
"Aye. Tighten the main sail," one grunted at her, handing her a rather large rope and gestured to the peg in front of her. "Tie it 'round there—tightly, now—we dun' want our sails ter fall…" That's when the man turned to actually look at Elizabeth and see that she was a girl. "Oh. Sorry, lass, I didn' realize ye weren't a man." He then took the rope back. Elizabeth, frustrated with everyone thinking her gender was a handicap, took the rope back, and tied it securely around the peg, much to the man's dismay. She crossed her arms over her chest, and he shrugged, motioning to the other pegs.
"Tighten the rest o' 'em up like tha', then," he said, moving towards the other crewmembers that were spiritedly singing an old sea shanty. She sighed, and got straight to work. She didn't notice a pair of chocolate-toned eyes rolling, nor a man at the helm grunting, as he moved to come next to her. Finally, she realized she was being watched when Jack Sparrow cleared his throat.
"What in th' name o' Davy Jones d'ya think yer doing, luv?" He asked, watching her tighten the last sail. She huffed, finished her work, and turned to him.
"Making myself useful. I will not sit in your office like a prissy girl, feeling absolutely helpless. I came here to rescue Will; I might as well do some work!" She said. He sighed and shook his head.
"Lass, we're fine without yer help. In fact, we may jus' be better," he said, as he turned to tighten the ropes even more. He looked back at her, to see that she was seething. He held up his hands defensively and offered her a smile. "Or not. Ah, well, don' come cryin' ter me if'n ye break a nail or something…" With that he left her alone, and walked back up towards the helm. She smiled as he let her work along side the crew. The old man she recognized to be Joshamee Gibbs from the Faithful Bride came up to stand beside her, and he smiled at her. She returned it, and turned around, hazel eyes searching for something to do.
"Ye know, lass," the old man started, "we could really use ye up in th' riggin'." He said, eyes staring upwards towards the swinging sails. "Ye did such a good job down here, ye may as well be up there."
Now, Elizabeth had a horrible fear of heights. It sort of started with her falling out of a tree in her younger years (she had broken her arm), and sort of pinnacled with her falling off the fort wall. She looked at Gibbs with a worried expression, and he chuckled. "Or ye could jus' go back ter where ye belong—in the Cap'n's cabin." It was then that she realized that the older man was not looking at her, but instead he was looking behind her at the Captain of their ship. She smirked.
"I'll do it." She said, putting on a brave voice. This obviously shocked the older man, who immediately looked towards his captain. The man made it seem that he was not paying attention to Gibbs, but even Elizabeth noticed the nonchalant shrug he gave to the elder man, along with a pointed look when he assumed Elizabeth wasn't looking.
"Fine, then," he pointed up to the tallest sail, which was being obstructed by a rope, causing it to not open completely, "cut it free."
She swallowed as the man walked away, and she knew Jack was watching. "Aye!" She shouted after the old man, who was now taking a rather large helping from his flask, as if to blame the alcohol later if the situation were to get nasty. Elizabeth pushed such thoughts out of her head, and focused on her task. She grabbed onto a ratline and began to climb up feebly, not being the strongest person ever. Well, if she could climb up the side of the boat, she could climb up the mast. She was halfway towards the lower mast when she realized that everyone was watching her. "Glad they are enjoying themselves," she muttered darkly to herself as she felt herself tiring a bit. She paused a moment, and the wind blew around her, causing her to get nervous. She shut her eyes, afraid that she'd look down, and kept climbing.
She reached the lower sail (the lowest of the three sails on the main mast) and she sat for a moment on the mast beam, collecting herself. She didn't look down—only up—up past her destination and towards the not-so-soothing sky. She was officially out of luck if it began to rain, as she could barely keep her balance now. She heard the catcalls of the crew below her, and realized she hadn't moved in a good ten minutes. She took another deep breath, and climbed up the ratlines again.
Although the idea of stopping at the second sail was a comforting idea, she realized that if she did, indeed, stop, she'd probably never start up again. So she bypassed it, moving upwards until she reached the rope that was thwarting the tallest sail. She wound her hand around the ratlines, and stuck her pointed boots in it as well, making sure she wouldn't fall. Then she cautiously bent down into her boot, and grabbed the dagger. Still only holding on with one hand, she began to saw at the rope. The wind was blowing harder now, as she was up higher, and it only made her more nervous. Tears stung at her eyes at the idea that she was so high, but she was more concerned about cutting the right rope. One wrong move, and she was a goner. She cut it loose, the spare rope falling to the ground below her as the sail blew free. She smiled, and heard the cheers below her, but she couldn't celebrate yet…
…She still had to get back down.
She took a deep breath and fastened the blade between her teeth. She slowly descended, taking her time. When she reached the second sail, she took another breath and collected herself. Except this time, she made the mistake of looking down. Her eyes widened, and an old noise escaped her mouth. She seemed to be hyperventilating when she sat down on the mast beam, and tried to collect herself. It took her a few moments, but when she did it, she made herself continued downwards, only focusing on what was in front of her—the other ratlines. In around ten minutes or so, she realized that she was only about twenty feet from the deck when it began to rain; and when it rained, it poured. The wind was blowing much more fiercely now, and Elizabeth held on for dear life. At the moments she felt safe to move, she moved, and when she didn't, she clung to the ratlines for her dear, sweet life. Finally, her boots made contact with the deck. Unfortunately, no one was there to congratulate her.
"Here," Gibbs grunted, before the ship shook beneath them as the waves began to get rougher and rougher. "Heave it, and when I say, tie it ter tha' peg over there." She grabbed onto the rope he was holding, and at his signal, she pulled as hard as her feeble muscles could let her. At his second signal, she tied it.
By now, she was tired and extremely wet, ergo she was extremely uncomfortable. She made her way towards Jack, and Gibbs was right behind her. Gibbs, however, cut her off before she could speak.
"Cap'n! We should drop canvas!"
"She can 'old a bi' longer," Jack shouted, turning the wheel a few knots to port. Elizabeth held onto the railing as the ship shuddered under her.
"Wha's in yer head tha's put ye in such a fine mood, Cap'n?"
"We're catching up!"
"Jack!" Elizabeth shouted as Gibbs staggered away to help again. "How close are we?" Jack, however, turned the wheel again, refusing to look at her and answer her question. "Jack!"
"Never again do I wan' ter see ye in my rigging, understood?" Jack barked at the girl suddenly, taking her quite by surprise. "I am the Captain o' this 'ere ship, an' when I say ye are ter stay in the Cap'n's cabin, ye stay in the Captain's cabin!" He shouted, looking down at her suddenly. She saw a flicker of some odd emotion in his angered eyes—and she realized that he actually cared if she got hurt. Flattered more than upset, she smiled at him, nodded, and moved below deck.
Jack smiled to himself, checking his compass for a moment. "Can't damage the goods, darling," he muttered, grinning maniacally as he turned the wheel again.
Let's Check in on Will...
Will was cowering in the corner of his cell, trying desperately to catch his breath. The ship was slowing down now, and he felt it shudder as the anchor dropped. His heart beat quickened, and seemed to stop as he heard the hatch open. Two men were almost kicked down the stairs, and he heard Barbossa's booming voice.
"Bring him."
Enough about Him--Back to Jack...
"Dead men tell no tales…"
The morbid cry made the already solemn crew seem even more unhappy about their voyage as the slowly made their way through "Dead Man's Straight", a long, narrow slice of ocean that caused many shipwrecks. The crewmembers looked at said wrecks with uneasy faces. Elizabeth was on deck, standing next to Gibbs. She looked up at Jack, who had closed his compass upon noticing that Cotton was staring over his shoulder. She looked back at Gibbs. "How did Jack come by that compass?"
"Not much is known about Jack Sparrow before he came to Tortuga with a mind to go after the treasure of the Isla de Muerta," Gibbs stated, walking towards the other side of the boat. Elizabeth followed. He was tightening a knot that had come loose. "Tha' was before I knew him, back when he was captain of the Black Pearl."
"What?" Elizabeth asked, and Gibbs choked on his saliva, as if he realized that he really shouldn't have mentioned that. She stared at the pirate captain. "He failed to mention that."
"Well, he keeps things closer to the chest now," Gibbs grunted, figuring her might as well tell her the story; he had already let so much more slip. "And a hard lesson it was to learn. You see, three days out to the journey, his first mate comes to him and says that everything is in equal share, so should the bearings of the treasure," Gibbs said, sitting on a barrel. Elizabeth followed. "So, Jack gives up the bearings. Well, that night, there was a horrible mutiny; and they marooned Jack on an island."
"How horrible!" Elizabeth breathed.
"When a sailor is mutinied, he is given on pistol with a single bullet," Gibbs continued. "Now, it wouldn't do ye any good fer hunting, nor would it for protection incase the island has some natives," Gibbs reasoned, and at Elizabeth's agreeing nod, he continued, "but on the third day or so, the pistol starts to look real friendly," he placed two fingers to his head as if to emphasize his point, "but not for ol' Jack. No, he had walked out into the shallows for three days. And on those three days he stood there until all types of sea creatures grew acclimated to his presense." The story seemed unbelievable by she, and it showed on the incredulous look on her face, "An' on the fourth day, he roped himself a couple of sea turtles, and lashed himself a raft."
When Gibbs had finished his story, he looked rather proud. Elizabeth, still incredulous, merely stared.
"Sea turtles?"
"Aye. Sea turtles."
"What did he use for rope?"
Gibbs looked confused at this point, and another voice spoke up for him, "Human hair," they turned to see Jack standing next to them, "from my back. Gibbs! Round up a longboat; Miss Swann and I are to go ashore."
"Aye, Cap'n!"
"Cap'n!" Gibbs said as Jack quickly grabbed Elizabeth's arm and pulled her towards the starboard side. "What're we to do if the worst should happen?"
"Keep to the code."
Moments later, the two were sitting across from each other in a long boat, Elizabeth at the bow with a lantern, while Jack rowed them into a cave from the stern. They were quiet in a sense that it bothered Elizabeth. The entire idea of there being a code amongst pirates worried her, so she finally voiced her concerns.
"What code is Gibbs to keep if the worst shall happen?"
"Pirates code," Jack grunted, rowing harder as they quickly made their way into the cave. "Any who falls behind, is left behind."
Elizabeth snorted, turning away from the smirking captain. "No heroes amongst thieves, eh?"
"Ye know," Jack said slowly, as they made their way closer to their destination—Elizabeth could hear the pirates from where they were—"fer someone who has such a bleak outlook on pirates, ye're well on yer way to becoming one."
She glared at him, but he continued nonetheless.
"Freed a prisoner with crimes against the crown, commandeered a ship of the fleet, sailed with a buccaneer crew out o' Tortuga," he said, watching the girl peer into the waters, her eyes widening at the sight of the gold laying on the ocean floor, "an' yer completely obsessed with treasure." The long boat hit the shore, and they clambered out. Elizabeth glared at Jack as she tied the boat to a pointed boulder.
"That's not true," she said, before she realized that she would have to hiss the rest of her complaint, "I'm am not obsessed with treasure."
Jack smiled at her from his position above her on the boulder. She climbed up said boulder until she saw what he saw. "Not all treasure is silver an' gold, luv."
There he was:
William Turner was standing on top of a mound of treasure—
With a knife to his heart.
Dun, dun, DUN!
Bo' sun held onto William's arms as Barbossa turned to stare at his face. He smiled. "Say yer goodbyes, lad, now it's time we kill ye." He laughed at the idea of Will having a chance to say goodbye to anyone, and Will's stomach turned over at the thought of him dying. Elizabeth was still out there somewhere—had she lived to see the morning after that horrible night? Did his mother make it out alive? He wondered if his mother had even bothered to look for him; from the crack in his wall, he hadn't seen another vessel the entire trip.
Barbossa had, by this time, kicked off the lid of the chest, but Will hadn't noticed. He was also numb to the speech Barbossa was screaming at the top of his lungs, and the pirates' hearty replies also went unnoticed. It wasn't until he realized that his shirt was no longer on his back, and that there was the tip of a dagger waiting to be stabbed into his heart was he slowly brought back to reality.
He closed his eyes and prayed—for what, he wasn't sure… Hell, he knew he needed a miracle to make it out alive.
...Cut to Elizabeth...
"JACK!" Elizabeth nearly shrieked, her voice echoing off the walls. Jack thanked the stars above that Barbossa's voice carried over it. He turned to her, placing his hand over her mouth. He was glaring at her, and she realized she had done something wrong. He looked at her, as if asking her nonverbally if he could trust her enough to take his hand away from her mouth. He must've been satisfied by something hidden in her eyes, because he did just that.
He reached out and took her arm, forcefully moving her about the cave, still remaining silent. Finally, when he realized she was about to speak, he turned, bringing her to a surprising halt. She tripped lightly, but he caught her. He held her close, her face inches from his.
"Have I ever given ye reason not ter trust me? Do us a favor—stay here, and try not ter do anythin' stupid."
With that, he left her standing there, dumbstruck.
Waiting for the Opportune Moment...
Jack had gotten himself a decent view of everything: the pirates, Barbossa, and the blasted boy who had gotten Jack into this mess. He glared at the boy for a moment, as if the thought was fresh in his mind. He watched Barbossa slowly draw the knife across the boy's chest, making a horizontal line from shoulder to shoulder.
Jack grinned, happy he had dealt with the girl; she wouldn't have taken it so well.
Of course he hadn't expected her to be right behind him, and he sure as hell didn't expect to be pushed out into the middle of the crowd.
But What about Will?
"That's it?" Will asked, truly expecting to be stabbed in the heart with the blade. Barbossa had made a rather large show of him dragging the medallion the complete distance of the cut, and made Will drop the blood-covered coin into the chest. That's when Barbossa smiled viciously.
"Waste not."
Confused by this, Will let it go, and watched the medallion drop. He knew that while he wasn't dead yet, it was only a matter of time before they realized that it wasn't his blood that they needed. He was sort of proud of himself; he had gotten them off of Elizabeth's trail for a short while.
The medallion hit the others with a soft clink; the metal-on-metal made Will cringe. He took a deep breath and waited, and he almost laughed at the fact that the other pirates did the same.
When they all realized they felt the same, that nothing had happened, their eyes snapped open and they looked at each other.
"I dun' feel any different," one commented.
"How do we know it worked?" Another asked.
Barbossa rolled his eyes and retrieved his pistol, shooting one of the men in the chest. No blood; no cry of pain; no death. They all stared at the still-living man, before their eyes turned to Barbossa.
"He's not dead!"
"Ye're a liar!"
"It didn't work!"
"Ye brought us here for nothing!"
Will was panicking now, his breath becoming quicker. Although Bo' sun had dropped his hold against him, he soon realized that his chances of getting away from a cave full of immortal pirates was… well… impossible. Barbossa silenced the crew, and turned to Will.
"You! What was yer father's name? Was yer father Jacob Swann?"
Will found his courage, and glared. "No."
"Where his child? Where is the child who shares the blood of Jacob Swann?" When Will still refused to speak, he raised the dagger.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you…"
...And, I'm going to leave it there.
Ha.
'Cause I'm just that evil.
I was going to cut it off at the whole "knife to his heart" thing, because... well... it would've been so much meaner, but I didn't want to be the bitch, so... Here. Consider everything after that, a slice of next chapter.
Oh. And to answer some questions that I have a feeling might be asked:
Will was cut from shoulder to shoulder because, well, in the movie they were going to slice his throat. This was a little less messy. And... erm... dramatic.
And... If cutting him from shoulder to shoulder would've cut an artery or something (because I'm not a doctor, and I'm way too lazy to do the research), I apologize in advanced for my ignorance.
If you're in the mood, please review.
"Every craftsman likes to know that their work is appreciated."
...Ha. Totally turned to tables on you.
No one can resist Will.