Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Chapter title is from William Shakespeare's The Merchant of Venice. It's a soliloquy called "Moonlight".
Chapter 7: Moonlight
He ran his rough hands ever so gently along the weathered wood, taking in the familiar smell of the sea. He steadied himself from the rhythmic rocking he was so used to. Without opening his eyes, he placed his hands on the wheel. This was home. This was where he belonged. Not in a grand house like Camille's, but on the sea, on the ship. His ship. His Pearl. He cranked the wheel as hard as he could all the way to one side, and laughed when he heard a shriek below him on deck.
"Would you like to warn me the next time you do that?" Camille called angrily.
He laughed, seeing the annoyed look on her shadow-covered face. "Just keepin' you on your feet, love!" he called.
"I can keep on my feet perfectly well without your help!" she yelled back before disappearing to the other end. He knew she was finding some secluded area to watch the stars. Stars were, in Camille's mind, one of the most important aspects about living. She always liked to watch them, believing that one of them was the angel of her mother looking down on them.
He left the helm shortly, and made his way to where she was leaning comfortably on the banister. She could always lean so far out that he thought she might topple over the edge of the ship, but she never did. He watched her slender figure outlined by the starlight. She always looked beautiful no matter what, but he liked her best when she wore tight formfitting clothing. He put his arms around her and she embraced him back immediately as he kissed her neck.
"Camille, you mean so much to me, darling," he said, holding her in his arms. "No one else could take an entire ship away from under a whole navy."
"I did it because I knew it would make you happy."
He spun her around so that she faced him and took her hands. "You make me happy."
She smiled and took hold of his dreadlocks like she always did when she was about to kiss him. He shut his eyes and patiently waited a moment or two, wondering what the sudden delay was.
When he opened them, Camille was staring at her hand, turning it over and over. It had little golden lines all over it. He knew what to do. He took her arm and held it up. "Spread your fingers," he commanded. She did so, and the lines became clearer. He had only heard about these in legend; he had never actually encountered anything like it.
"This is a map," he said. Then he looked back at Camille. "You're not going to want to tell anyone else about this," he said quietly.
"Anybody?"
"No one, Camille!" he said, his emotion leaking out. "Not Gabriel, or Will, or Annie, or Ana Maria. No one can know about this map!"
"And just how detrimental is this to me?" she asked quietly.
He calmed down, taking a moment to recompose himself. "Very."
She sighed. "Well, I suppose the threat of death shouldn't scare me anymore."
"Nonsense," he said seriously. "Any person who is not afraid to die has no reason to live." He grabbed her hand gently, putting it up again. "This map is in the ring, if you will," he demonstrated, taking the ring off her finger. The little map disappeared when he did so. He enclosed her hand around it. "Keep it hidden."
She nodded. "I wish I knew what all of this meant."
"As do I, love. Our questions will not go unanswered," he reassured her. "The only ones who know about this are you and me. If that changes, we'll destroy the ring," he promised, playing with her hair. "Don't think I'm going to let anything happen to you."
She leaned her head on his shoulder. "I know that I'm perfectly safe with you, Jack. I just wish the rest of the world did."
He grinned. "Someday, my dear." He thought about all of this. Camille was in danger now, and it was his fault. He couldn't have cared any less about the mark on his own skin. In the past few years, something in him had changed dramatically. He found this woman and the sea both equal of deserving his utmost affections.
"Camille darling, put the ring back on. I want to see something."
She obeyed without question, and again the map appeared. Jack looked at it carefully, moving her hand this way and that. "I should know where that is," he scolded himself. "Wait here, and don't move," he said as he dashed across the deck and into his cabin.
She waited, moving her hand back and forth slightly, watching the markings change. There were a few dots on her hand, and she wondered where they represented. In another moment, Jack was at her side again.
"It's Colombia," he informed her. "It is a map of Colombia," he said, unrolling the piece of parchment he held. He set it on the banister, holding its edges to keep it from curling back up. "If I could only see in the dark, I could read this bloody map," he cursed.
"Well, there's a yellow dot just at the edge of it, along the coast. It has to be some sort of port city, doesn't it?" she asked, trying to help.
"Yes, yes," he muttered, scanning the map closely. "Is it closer to Panama or Venezuela?"
"Panama."
"It's Port Barranquilla," he said, enunciating the word with a Spanish accent. His Spanish had always impressed her just as much as her Gaelic impressed him.
"There's another dot. It's further down, but…I can't explain it very well."
He held the map up, trying to match it up with her hand. They both searched, trying to find the city that matched up the closest to the dot on her hand. It was a small city called Aguadulce. Sweet water, in English, Jack explained to her.