A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen Sparrows Trilogy
A Pirates of the Caribbean story by Merrie
Disclaimer: Jack, Norry, Will, Liz, Kruler, Lorelac and all others own me. I would never attempt to claim otherwise.
Summary: Lorelac is seemingly gone, Jack remains as one of the most wanted men in the known world, Elizabeth's still pregnant, Will still doesn't know, Norrington's still without a job, and Jack's still got more of his grisly past to share.
Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Chief James Norrington, Will Turner, Elizabeth Swann, Captain Zachariah Kruler, Lorelac and various others.
Author's Note: Now, I am a lover of Norrington, I have admitted that in the past, but as I wrote this chapter, I had absolutely no idea that Norrington would take over in such a way. For all intents and purposes, this is definitely a Norry chapter. I'm not quite sure how that happened exactly, but I hope you like it all the same. And have no fear; the rest of the cast is in there too. Just…with Norry.
Rating: R for violence and language.
Chapter 7: Self Reflection and Recrimination
Will sat in the small cabin Jack had assigned him and tried to still his racing nerves. How was it that just a few years ago his life had been rather dull and simple and now he had helped defeat a group of cursed pirates, gotten engaged to the one woman he had always loved, gone on a rescue mission to fight a god and now helped a friend escape the law? It boggled the mind. And yet he could feel the familiar ache in his bones resurface with a vengeance; to be out adventuring again quickened his blood. This is what he had been born for, his body insisted and his heart agreed…but his mind had other plans. Is this really the kind of life Elizabeth wants? Does she love William Turner the blacksmith? Or William Turner the adventuring son of a pirate? If I decide to give up the sea and its call forever and focus on my work will she still love me? Will she get bored with life in Port Royal Such thoughts had occurred to Will time and time again, and hearing them posed now brought no new answers.
"You're thinking about her, aren't you, Will? About Elizabeth?" Norrington's voice interrupted his thoughts and Will looked up to see the former commodore standing in his doorway, looking almost nothing like his former self. The wig and uniform were gone, and Norrington looked just like every other tradesman of Port Royal with the slight difference that he still carried and conducted himself as the military man he once was. Will had a good idea that if someone had suddenly called out a command of 'Attention!' Norrington would come to without a moment's hesitation. "She's troubled by this ship," Norrington continued softly, his voice still rasping from his near strangulation. "You can see it in her eyes. And by something else."
"I know," Will said with a slight sigh. "We were both held captive here. It's little wonder she's feeling uneasy—"
"No, that's not what I meant, Will," Norrington interrupted gently. "What I meant to say is that I see her looking out over the waves lost in thought; clearly troubled. Something is on her mind, Will. Something she's not yet shared with us. Perhaps it is the…difficulty she had with that bastard demon," Norrington said in a low voice, keeping his speech proper but lacking none of the hot fury that Will felt whenever he thought about how Elizabeth had been raped by a demon wearing his best friend's body. "I think she's happy to be away from Port Royal for awhile, Will. I don't imagine she's told the Governor about what happened to her."
"She probably wouldn't have even told me if she hadn't been forced by Lorelac," Will muttered under his breath bitterly before looking ashamed that he had said such an unfair statement out loud. She would have told him in time. She was going to be his wife, after all. Didn't that mean that they were supposed to share their secrets? Will wasn't so sure anymore. "No, I don't imagine so, either," Will responded loud enough for Norrington to hear. "But she will. She has to. He is her father, after all. He deserves to know."
"Of course," Norrington said automatically, but Will caught a flicker of doubt across the former commodore's face as he said it.
"You don't think the governor should know?" Will asked with a confused frown. Norrington had always looked to Port Royal's interests ahead of his own, and Governor Swann was Port Royal. Not to mention that the two men had been friends for almost as long as Will had known either of them. "Surely you don't believe Elizabeth should keep this from her father? Do you?"
Again Norrington hesitated. "I think it should be left up to her," he said at last. "I learned long ago that is nothing on this earth that will effectively force her to do what she doesn't want to. If she wants to tell her father, she will. In her own time, Will. Do not; I beg you for your own sake, force her to speak of this before she is ready to."
"Do not presume to tell me how to handle my own wife, Norrington," Will said evenly; steel in his voice.
Norrington didn't bother mentioning that Elizabeth wasn't yet his wife, such an action would only lead to an argument or worse; a swordfight, and he was in neither the mood nor the shape for either. Besides, he knew Will was only lashing out at him because of the events of late. It was a lot for one man to take in all at once. "Do forgive me, Mr. Turner," Norrington said with a small bow before turning and exiting Will's cabin in order for the young blacksmith to hopefully cool down.
WWW
Jack ran a hand over the spokes of the wheel that controlled his Pearl with something near reverence at her beauty, and dismay at the ill manner in which she had been treated. Blood still stained the deck from one of Lorelac's little…escapades, and Jack was having a nameless crew member attempt to clean it up.
He had barely spoken to anyone on board since setting out from Port Royal save for grunted commands at his small crew. The group of only eight men running his ship for him didn't seem to suspect that anything was different with him, but he had a foreboding feeling that it would only be a manner of time before that changed. They weren't so stupid that they didn't take Jack's companions-none of which were prisoners-into consideration. He had been able to get rid of three of his thankfully limited crew at Port Royal already with the excuse that their presence wasn't needed now that he had Will, Elizabeth and Norrington with them. If they had thought Elizabeth unfit or unable to live the life of a pirate, a harsh glare from Jack doing his best Lorelac impression kept their tongues in their mouths. It hadn't been quite that easy, but there hadn't been too many problems with their departure. That might have been different if it hadn't been for Norrington's unfortunate…misfortune. Not for the first time since this journey had begun he thanked god that Norrington hadn't worn his uniform. That would have created more problems than he could deal with right now. Speak of the devil and he appears…Jack mused so himself as his eyes caught sight of Norrington striding toward him.
"You're the one leading this adventure, Norrington. How far you suppose we are from this little island of yours?" Jack drawled, putting as much casualness into his voice as he could manage while trying to fight off the thought that they were returning to that island. The island where this whole bloody nightmare had begun: Lorelac's island. While yes, their departure from Port Royal had gone relatively smoothly, Jack had no bleeding idea what was going to happen to his crew once they got to that island.
"No more than a day, I suppose," Norrington answered with a soft sigh, turning his back on Jack and looking out to sea. "It's really not that far from Port Royal. It's a wonder it hasn't been discovered yet." He rapped on the wooden railing he was leaning against with his knuckles lightly.
"Never knew you to be a superstitious man, Norrington," Jack commented with an almost smile as he watched Norrington's actions.
"After the things I've seen I've learned to hedge my—" Norrington cut himself off as he turned and took a good look at Jack. "I see you've gotten your appurtenances back," Norrington murmured, taking in Jack's once more beaded hair and khol-blacked eyes. For all intents and purposes, he was himself-Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl-again and it inexplicably warmed Norrington's heart to see it.
Jack fingered the beads he had strung in his free-flowing hair once more, seeking comfort in their presence. "I found the whole lot in a drawer in my cabin. Looks like Lorelac couldn't get rid of them. The beard will take awhile though," he mused to himself, running a hand across his stubbly chin. "Maybe I'll just keep it shaved from now on."
"It suits you. It makes you look younger," Norrington said with a nod toward Jack's near clean-shaven face.
"Not really the look I was going for, mate. But thanks," Jack murmured with a small bow of thanks in Norrington's direction. It was mind-boggling how much the former Commodore had changed from their first encounter. It was almost as if he were an entirely different person. Had losing his job changed him that much? Or had he always been like this and Jack'd never noticed?
"And what look were you going for exactly, Sparrow? Because I'd say you've got the crazed, beaded, tattooed, sun-stuck pirate down pat," Norrington said with a glimmer of humour in his eyes.
"You forgot charming and debonair and sophisticated, mate," Jack said with a grin and would have curled his mustache had he still had a mustache to curl.
"My deepest apologies," Norrington responded with a bow of his own. "I also seem to have forgotten rum-soaked."
"Indeed. And don't you be forgetting it, savvy?" Jack responded with more cheer than he had felt of late, raising the half-full bottle of rum to Norrington in toast, about to bring it to his lips when he hesitated and offered it to the former military man who surprisingly enough, accepted.
Norrington took a liberal swallow from the bottle in a mixture of politeness at the offering and needing something to dull the pain of the various wounds he had suffered over the course of the last few days. His hand stung wretchedly in time with the beating of his heart, and his throat felt as if it had been lined in sandpaper even still. The rum burned on the way down, but it was a good kind of burn.
Jack just watched; more than a little dumbfounded, at Norrington's actions. He hadn't really believed he would accept the offered bottle of rum, especially from a pirate like himself, but after a moment's thought he asked himself why he was so surprised. It was just another instance of Norrington demonstrated that either he'd changed dramatically since Jack had known him, or that Jack hadn't really ever known him at all. In retrospect, the latter was most likely accurate.
"Thanks," Norrington said at last, handing the bottle back to Jack before taking a handkerchief out of a pocket almost as if by magic and wiping at his lips and chin. "I think I may have needed that."
"Any time, mate," Jack managed to say between bouts of sudden and liberating laughter, leaning on the wheel of the Pearl when he could no longer stand up straight from the force of it.
"You're spilling your rum," Norrington murmured, taking in the sight of Jack laughing himself to tears with his arms hanging limply at his sides and the bottle of rum tilted at a precarious angle in one of Jack's expressive hands; drops of rum escaping to the deck. Jack only seemed to find this even funnier. Norrington just stood by the hysterical pirate and watched, unable to keep a straight face in the midst of Jack's all encompassing mirth. No one would have been able to when confronted with such a sight, so Norrington didn't even bother trying.
When Jack's laughter had finally died off enough so that he could breathe properly again, he finally seemed to take in his surroundings and noticed that his antics had drawn quite a crowd. "Back to work, you worthless sea dogs!" he bellowed at the gathered members of his crew. This sent each of them running to do whatever they had been doing before their captain had decided to go insane.
"Better?" Norrington asked softly, a clearly bemused look on his face. He didn't quite know just what had happened with the pirate captain, but he couldn't help but notice the results. It was as if a terrible weight had been lifted from atop Jack's shoulders and finally laid to rest.
Jack seemed to take a moment to reflect, looking over at Norrington with dark eyes turned inward. For the briefest of instances-so quick Norrington wasn't even sure he had seen it-Jack's eyes shifted in that pale ice blue gaze, staring at him with such hate and loathing that Norrington took a step back. Then, as quickly as it had come, it was gone leaving Norrington confused and doubting his senses.
"Yes," Jack said at last. A soft spoken thank you accompanied his little bow this time. If Jack had been aware of what Norrington had just seen-or thought he saw-he gave no sign. He simply looked down at the near empty rum bottle in his hand, decided that there was still enough contained within to suit his purposes, and knocked it all back in one long swallow. "What are the people of your little island like, James?" Jack asked, tossing the rum bottle aside so that it rolled along the deck, taking note of it so that he could reclaim it later if it hadn't been lost to the sea by then.
A denial about how it wasn't 'his island' rose immediately to Norrington's lips but didn't get past them. For all intents and purposes, it was his island. It was the only thing he had left to him now. He was without position or rank, without home since he had lived on the grounds of the military barracks all his life in the house built specifically for him- for the ranking commodore-and worst of all, without purpose to his life. But that wasn't entirely true, was it? He had purpose. He had an entire island to look after, the people of which relied on him to run their lives. The could certainly learn to live without him given sufficient time to adjust-they knew how to run their lives better than he ever could hope to-but could he live without them? Could he live without the structure and purpose his life so lacked right now? He was a man born and bred of the sea, raised to lead. And he had. Very well for many years. Not enough, not nearly enough, but long enough to prove his worth to himself and to others. These people needed a leader, and he would lead them.
Then his thoughts turned the other direction. But what did leading these people mean? What did they need from him exactly? Was he being fair to them by not staying where they were? By not taking his rightful place in the hut they had assigned for him as their chief? Huts and houses, assigned to men of rank. But which do I belong in? Neither of them? The thing was, that while he could still seem himself in the house as the Commodore, such a position wasn't open to him anymore. It was gone, and he had to accept that. It was one thing to stop wearing the uniform and tell the others not to call him Commodore any longer, but he hadn't really accepted it. Not really. In his mind, it wouldn't be long now before Admiral Kleeson realised his mistake and called Norrington back. But Norrington also knew, without out a doubt, that that would never happen. Unless he re-enlisted as a common soldier-something he couldn't bring himself to do no matter how much he missed the military; he had fought to hard and too long to get where he was, or had been-the military life for him was irrevocably over.
But such a life could not be changed from one day to the next. He couldn't just go from Commodore to commoner as easily as that. The sensibilities remained. And yet, the sea called to him in a way it never had during all his years on it. It was the freedom that had been denied to him-or that he had denied himself-during those long years in the military. And he yearned for it. He yearned to know just how far the seemingly endless seas went. He wanted to feel the roll of a ship under his feet until the day he died. But where then, did that leave the island people under his charge?
"If you're going to be thinking as serious thoughts as I think you're thinking mate, then you'd best be thinking with some more rum I think," Jack's lazy drawl interrupted his thoughts. Norrington blinked at him, not understanding, still lost within his own thoughts. "C'mere. Take the wheel," Jack directed sternly, and Norrington couldn't help but move to follow the order. "Don't let her get away from you, or there'll be Hades to pay, mate," Jack directed once more before disappearing down the stairs and presumably somewhere below-perhaps his cabin but Norrington couldn't see-for a long while.
In all his long years as a sailor, this was perhaps the first, nay it was the first time he had ever steered a ship by himself. He glanced around briefly, took note that there wasn't a single soul within close distance-he could see crew members on the deck and up amongst the sails, and Elizabeth's lonely form standing point at the bow like a figurehead-but for all it mattered, Norrington was completely alone. Completely alone, and steering a pirate ship. Not just any pirate ship in fact, but the Black Pearl. A thing surrounded by myths and legends, supposedly the fastest ship on the water. Turning the wheel slightly and feeling the ship eagerly respond to his every gesture, Norrington fervently believed every last one of those stories. It was a heady sensation, being in sole control of something so powerful as a ship, and Norrington had never felt its like, and never wanted to feel anything else ever again.
"You're not plannin' on takin' me ship now, are you James? Because truth be told, I've quite had enough of other people takin' my ship. It tends to wear on a man," Jack called out in an amused voice as he watched Norrington from the top of the stairs. "She treatin' you proper?"
"I-I never knew," Norrington managed to speak, his voice uncharacteristically rough and halting.
"No one does until they've had a chance to try it for themselves, mate," Jack said with a close-lipped smile as he sauntered over to Norrington. "And even then, no one will quite know the Pearl like you're knowing her right now. There have been others, that bastard former first mate of mine for one, and that bastard former demon of mine for another who have known her, but with them it was rape and with you it's love. Isn't that right? I can see it in your eyes. You're lost to her now, aren't you? Like me." Norrington didn't know what to say, and Jack seemed to understand this and handed him the full bottle of rum he had went down to fetch. Norrington took it reluctantly, not even wanting to move a single hand away from that incredible power, but he did and Jack raised another full bottle of his own up in a toast. "To the Black Pearl. May she never let us go." They toasted and drank, and something indefinable had changed-an unseen storm crackling in the air-leaving Norrington even more confused than before.
WWW
Elizabeth stared out into the ocean before her, not knowing what to think anymore. Her mind was a whirl of possibilities, questions, problems, but no solutions or answers. Placing a hand on her still-flat stomach, she tried to decide what to do. She couldn't tell Will about the baby, no, she couldn't do that, not now, maybe not ever. But why couldn't she? He was her fiancé. He would have been her husband by now if things had gone as they had originally planned. So why couldn't she tell him? She wasn't at fault in the matter; she hadn't cheated on him with Jack and accidentally gotten herself pregnant. She had been forced but yet she would not willingly give up a child from it. She couldn't. She would bear it because it was hers, and she would love it no matter how it had come to be conceived to prove to herself once and for all that she was no longer trouble by what had happened. It was selfish of her, but she figured she was entitled to a little selfishness in the midst of all that had happened. Was that why she didn't want to tell Will? Was she afraid that he might want her to give up the baby? That he would look at her differently as she bore another man's-his best friend even-son? These thoughts rang true within her, and yet not entirely true. That was part of it, but not the whole reason. But what was it? What held her tongue at something so vitally important as being pregnant?
She didn't want to see how Will would look at her afterwards. She could imagine it-the look of loathing and disgust, as if she had been the one at fault; given herself up easily like a willing whore-and she couldn't bear it. He'll take Jack's side. Because Jack is his friend and he never second guesses his friends. Not even for his wife. She thought bitterly. He won't care. He'll think it was my fault. That I wanted this. Well I didn't! I didn't! Tears began to flow down her cheeks now. I didn't want it! God, I didn't want this! Any of it! She would have buried her face in her hands as she leaned against the railing, but she wouldn't. She couldn't. She had to be strong. This was no time for crying and regrets. Not with everyone watching. Maybe there never would be a time. But that didn't matter. She would keep her secrets and grief bottled up inside where no one would ever touch them. They were hers, and she wasn't giving them up. She wasn't giving this child up.
But what about Jack? Where does he fit in with all of this? Is he going to want a son or daughter? His son or daughter? Elizabeth didn't know that either. She didn't even know if the pirate captain liked children. How would he react? For some indefinable reason, she was less afraid of giving up her secret to him than she was to Will. What does that mean? Do I still love Will? The thought threatened to send her to her knees. She didn't love Jack in Will's place, she never would, but why had she asked herself that question? How could she not love Will? He who had been a constant at her side since she was young. But that doesn't matter. You've known James even longer and yet you've never loved him. Not the way he wanted you to. Had she ever really loved any of them? The right answer didn't seem so apparent anymore.
WWW
Lorelac had known defeat before. He had been trapped inside that bloody crystal for longer than he cared to fathom and he had escaped when the opportunity had presented itself. He would wait, he would watch, and he would listen. That opportunity would come again.
WWW
Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1674
Jack knew death. He had embraced it like a warm blanket all around him to keep him sane. The body of the officer he had killed had not been moved in over three days. Jack's minimal food and water was brought to him and set right in the middle space between the edge of Jack's cell door and the corpse so Jack would have to reach toward the corpse to get it. During the first day, just the smell of the food alone within sight of the fast rotting corpse was enough to make him lose whatever he had his stomach more than once. He quickly learned after this incident that whatever food he threw up would not be replaced. His captors would never take pity on their prisoner and bring him a second meal because Jack had become sick at the sight and the smell of…the man he killed. So Jack had learned to live with it. He had learned to embrace the sweet smell of decay so that it no longer bothered him. He might have been going a little mad by now-with good reason-but after a while it even began to smell sweet. Not good; never good, but bearable.
Life with the corpse brought unexpected benefits as well. Since the smell was so incredibly wretched, and no other crew member save the captain seemed to be able to bear it-they must not have had to go through the same "training" that Jack had-Jack pretty much had the entire brig to himself. Granted he couldn't leave his cell, but he found the peacefulness and aloneness nice. At least, he did at first.
Now while Jack wasn't normally a very garrulous man, he preferred time alone in quiet with his books, that didn't mean he didn't like to talk to people. He did. He liked to discuss the things he had read with people he knew-he denied himself the luxury of specific thoughts of his family now, he didn't deserve them-and he liked to hear them talk in return. No one had spoken a word to him in all three days. Not even Captain Kruler. They had left him in utter silence with the corpse who wasn't much for conversation. But that was alright. Jack could talk to himself. He had done it before and would do it again and again if it was necessary; to take comfort in the sound of your own voice. He asked himself questions and he thought up answers. He asked himself what he was going to do when-never if; always when-he was going to get out of this goddamned cell. He answered that he was going to kill every last man on this ship, leaving the captain for last. He didn't know what he would do after that so he didn't ask.
Jack moved to sit back in the corner of his cell, calling the questioning session on the count that it hurt to talk. His mouth still throbbed with the missing tooth, but it was nothing compared to the painful screaming of the salt-soaked lashes on his back. He cautiously reached a hand around his side to touch one of them gently, and he hissed in pain as he did so but found out what he had wanted to. The skin of his back was hot to touch like he had expected it to be. Fever then. Maybe it'll just kill me and this hell will finally be ended. That idea would appeal to him if he let it. He did. What was left to him but death? He had nothing left, not even his name. He would be Little Sparrow until the day he died. He could only hope that day would come for him soon.
WWW
"Have you ever thought of changing your name back to Sperling now, Jack?" Norrington interrupted gently. "There's no need to keep the name if it brings with it…unpleasant memories."
"Jack Sparrow is who I am. That other man is gone. Dead. He was killed on that ship," Jack said without pause, conviction in his words.
Norrington simply nodded, not daring to comment on that right now and waited for Jack to speak again.
"When they finally let me out, about 5 days to my best recollection from when I killed that man, I wasn't the same."
WWW
Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean, pirate ship The Hangman's Knuckles, Captain Zachariah Kruler, 1674
When Captain Kruler came to let him out of the cell in which he had come to believe as home, he was surprised. The surprise must have shown on his face, because Kruler chuckled; a disturbingly kind sound.
"You've learned your lesson, I know you have. And if you haven't, there are easy enough solutions for that, aren't they my little sparrow?"
Jack nodded dully from the floor of his cell, not having the energy to get up. The fever had raged in him for two days and yet no one had done anything for him. The ship had a surgeon, Xavier had made mention of him, but Jack had seen nothing of the man since he had been down here. He could imagine what he looked like: his face pale and his eyes dull but lit with a feverish light. He could feel himself shaking from the strain of it.
"What doesn't kill us, makes us stronger little sparrow," Kruler commented with a small smile, offering a hand down to Jack to bring him to his feet. Jack grabbed it without hesitation-hesitation would lead to punishment-and made it to his feet. The room spun, black spots danced before his eyes and blood rushed past his ears, but with Kruler's calloused hand gripping his arm tightly, Jack had no choice but to keep his feet. "Come with me, little sparrow. We'll get you cleaned up. You're mine now, and I take care of what's mine." The casual admission of possession made Jack's fever heated blood run cold at the implications.
"Yours?" Jack croaked out, unable to stop himself. Kruler only gave a grin in return, and Jack shivered.
WWW
Will paced back and forth in his cabin, his mind flitting from one thought to another with the speed of a hummingbird. He was still quite furious at Norrington but it was an impotent rage. And in his soul, Will knew Norrington was probably right. It was ironic that Norrington's comment from that long ago time seemed to make sudden glaring sense. It hadn't then, and Will and Elizabeth had been right to argue it. You forget your place. He had. Not in the fact that he tried to be something he wasn't, but that he no longer knew where his place was any longer. Blacksmith or pirate? Pirate or blacksmith? Husband or friend? Neither? Both? His thoughts had been running in a similar vein ever since Norrington had left; damn him. He no longer knew his place. Things that had once seemed so clear and defined before only confused him now.
Is Elizabeth even going to talk to me about it? The thought that she wouldn't have even told him about what had happened to her on the island with Jack-not Jack, never Jack. He didn't do it. But he didn't stop it either-still hurt him. It was as if she couldn't trust him to tell him anything. What did that say about their future life together? If she couldn't trust him enough to tell him these kinds of things, or anything for that matter, how then was he going to be able to trust her in return? Lies and mistrust were no foundation for a successful marriage in the eyes of God.
Norrington knows her better than I do. The thought came to him unbidden and unwanted, leaving him shaken. But that was unfair too. Norrington had known her longer than Will had. He had been a friend of her family before Will had ever floated up to the side of her ship on that long voyage from England to Port Royal. Will didn't blame him for loving her either. He might have at one point, but no longer now. Elizabeth was a vibrant, beautiful woman and you couldn't help not loving her. She was generous but at the same time she took what she wanted with a kind of ruthlessness that startled Will at times. He could tell she didn't want to be bound to Port Royal for the rest of her life. She had a spirit that would refuse all attempts to bind it. She wanted to explore unknown lands, accomplish unheard of deeds…everything Will himself did not want to do. He was happy in Port Royal. He liked having ties to something; a home. While adventure did call to his soul, he didn't feel the same longing to answer it as Elizabeth did and a deep part of him-the part that insisted that his father wasn't and never would be anything more than a merchant sailor-even rebelled against it.
WWW
Lorelac watched the ship's occupants with dispassionate disgust. Look at them. Lost in their pathetic little lives, believing that what they say and do really matters when they're nothing more than ants in the scope of it all. Lorelac sneered and began pacing back and forth in the confines of the crystal. He was aware of all but could affect nothing but his keeper, and Jack's will was too strong now for that to happen. But it didn't matter. No one could keep control of himself all the time, not even bloody Captain Jack Sparrow himself. And while Jack didn't know this, after you had been possessed the firs time it became ever so much easier to take over the second time. Lorelac had grown to know Jack's mind inside and out, and he held all the keys to whatever pathetic locks Jack threw up to bar his path. He just had to be patient and the opportune moment would present itself like it had in that cave. And Lorelac could be patient. He could wait for years if need be.
After a moment's thought and hesitation, he didn't think it would be that long though. Not with the delightful turns Jack's mind seemed to be taking as he thought about whatever he was telling that pathetic former commodore. He was remembering something grim and ugly that appealed to Lorelac immensely. He couldn't see what it was that Jack was thinking about, but he could see the effects it caused and knew that his moment was coming ever nearer. He could practically see the waves of darkness and hate emanating from Jack as he spoke of someone named….Kruler. Lorelac thought he might like to meet this man if he still breathed on this earth. A kindred spirit for mischief and destruction, from the sound of it.
Well, whoever the man was, Lorelac could tell that he had influenced a few great changes on Sparrow; changes Lorelac could use to his advantage. I have used those changes to my advantage! Lorelac thought suddenly. That's why it was so easy to change Sparrow before! Lorelac had often wondered where the darkness that Jack held deep within his soul-darkness that Lorelac had brought to the surface and used to turn him into the man he had been during that glorious month-and now he knew. The darkness hadn't come from him, Lorelac admitted to himself with an irritated scowl. It had been pure and black and sweet and Lorelac had drunk it in as if it were clear, cool water placed before a man dying of thirst. Sparrow had evil within his soul, and now Lorelac knew where it had come from. Now, if only he could get Sparrow to let it out again….
TBC
A/N: Well, that's was fun! Don't hate me, but I must admit I almost liked writing Lorelac. Almost. And to write Lorelac and Kruler in the same chapter…well, that was just fun. The next chapter gets a little…ok a lot dark, so be forewarned. But of course, you all know that I'm evil, so what comes next should present no surprises. ;-)
Reviewer Response Time!
Ellennar: Yes, Norry tattooed. I'll admit, the image does leave me rolling around the floor laughing so hard that I can't hardly breathe. ;-) Thanks for the toast, sorry I couldn't get another one this time. Bad author!
Holliday1081: The flashbacks are going to get harder to read, I fear. Past Jack will become even further removed from Edward, and even Present Jack for that matter, as time goes on. I hope you liked the Jack and James scenes in this chapter too. They were fun to write.
Bules: He'll get a lot more mad (madder?) in the chapters to come, don't fret. ;-) Lorelac's ugly head is poked out and looking around now, and yes the tattoo will come into play soon.
The Phantom's Christine: This is easier to type. I like the name! Hope you liked the chapter!
Opranoodlemantra: Our little foursome is in for some hard times, I'm afraid. Don't ask me what's going to happen between Will and Liz especially, because I honestly have no idea. Island time will be next chapter and then things will get…interesting.
FalconWing: You'll notice the crew didn't really react at all. This is because they're all scared out of their minds of Jack. They don't know he's not still "Lorelac-ified" to them he's just being odd. Something they've seen a lot. Hope you weren't too disappointed though.
Mistress of Destruction: It's ok about the reviewing. It happens, so no worries mate. Thanks for this one! And the flashbacks will get even more different than what most people think about Jack's past soon….
Areanas: Thanks so much for betaing!!!! The fantasmic angst as you put it, will come to play in the next chapter in horrible doses. Don't you worry. }D No Norry abuse this chapter. No promises for the next though… Lol, yes Kruler is a nasty pastry. ;-)
Padme17: Thanks for the review! I'm glad you're loving it!
Neon Daises: Yeah, Kruler's evil. And he's a long way from being through with your little bookworm yet. :-( They'll be at the island next chapter, and who said anything about the villagers being peaceful? })
BlueTrinity: Yes, poor Jack. Heck, poor everyone at this point! Except for Lorelac and Kruler. They don't deserve it. I included Lorelac again just for you. Hope you enjoyed him. Hmm, I'm a ways off from 'happily ever after's,' but as soon as I reach that point you'll be the first to know! ;-) Thanks for the review.
I appreciate you all immensely. Without you, this story wouldn't be nearly as much fun to write. :-D Thanks again!
-Merrie