Computer wouldn't update, or Fanfiction wouldn't let me. Grrr…
"There be a legend, over two-hundred years in the telling surrounding the Drifting Maiden and the Siren's Shanty. The legend be as follows. In 1473 in the year of our Lord, there was a beautiful baby born - stunning she was, with sparkling violet eyes like amethysts. When she grew older she grew not only in height, but in beauty. She went from stunning as a child to spectacularly mesmerising. She broke boy's hearts as often as the priest breaks bread for church service. The summer of 1489 was when her father grew tired of her wiles and charms – some say he was worried he'd never be able to make a 'proper' bride out of her, if you get my meaning; she wouldn't be wearing white on her wedding day. Perhaps he was worried no-one would pay two tuppences to marry her, when they could get the spoils for free. Perhaps that's all just slander; mayhaps she was a really nice girl, and legend deals a vicious and defamous hand. Regardless, by the winter the father had his plan, and made his move. He organised a marriage for her, to a wealthy plantation owner or diamond miner or somewhat in South Africa; point being, the further away from England the fiancé was, the less likely he'd hear of her alleged exploits. The father commissioned a ship and employed an entirely female crew to ensure she didn't get up to any antics. She was placed on the ship to sail the seas with her entourage of 60 servants - all beautiful maidens in their own right - bound on a voyage for her to marry her husband, who they didn't know from Jesus, and was arguably the most dullest and strict man this side of the Pacific Ocean. One could tell right from the beginning this match was not going to work; like gunpowder and spark.
The Lady's accompanying ladies were also very rich, young, wealthy; so on and so forth; all paled in comparison to the Lady herself, but hey, I wouldn't be complaining if any of them chose to share my bed one cold and lonely night." Dirty Harold was side-tracked by several long minutes of hearty laughter and leering knowledgeable grins.
"Tell us the rest o' the story!" Bellowed a deaf-looking crone. He had his eyelids clumsily tattooed, bearing his name Sinone.
"Alright, alright, hold yer horses." Dirty Harry demanded, taking a long swig of his rum. Most of it ran down both ruddy cheeks and dripped down his chin, colouring his white beard a murky gold colour. He wiped his mouth with the back of one scarred hand missing two fingers and belched heavily. "Where was I? Ah yes, the girls…the girls… There was the flaw that comes with wealth and beauty; arrogance and conceit, which scuffed the otherwise pristine veneer of their beauty. But nevertheless, they were all so fair, the fiancé chose overlook this trait at soon as a portrait of his bride-to-be reached his gluttonously awaiting hands. All the maidens had that kind of affect on men, to the point where they'd been pampered and praised and fawned over for the entire duration of their pretty, near pointless lives.
To escape this marriage - either because she was afraid of the reputation the man held of a cruel and austere control-demon, or because the lass just really wanted to escape a loveless marriage to a complete stranger - the Lady tried to change the ship's course, and change it she did; right into the paths of pirates. Naturally, they were captured, and the crew were very keen to "'ave their way with 'em" as it were. The pirate captain, however, was willing not only to spare them that fate, but to spare all their lives, if only the maiden would marry him, or at least agree to travel with him on one voyage of the known world to ease the ache of loneliness that had settled over his heart.
It was a perfect escape for her, a lively and interesting marriage to a kind, good hearted scallywag, but she refused to even be in his presence. She was attracted to him, oh aye, no doubting; perhaps she even loved him, but in typical feminine style, ignored him and played games with him. Toyed with him. She delayed her answer, hoping the pirate would eventually give up, or sail to land for more supplies, then she and her ladies would run off; faster than the winds that control the roaring forties. But the captain, as love-smitten as he was, eventually grew wise to her ploy, and took her to his island. Sick of her indecisions and callous heart, he issued the final ultimatum; him or death. She refused his offer, damning her and her female crew to death.
However, like the smug little strumpet she was, she knew the pirate captain loved her, and would never kill her. The pirate, saddened and angered by her obstinacy and choosiness could not kill her, but instead cursed her with his dying breath that she and her crew would wander the oceans until all sixty of them found each a husband who they loved, and loved them in return. And as tribute to the captain, each husband must be a pirate or sea-faring man. He died soon after he spoke that curse, the ache of his beloved's refusal breaking his heart.
So now every year this Drifting Maiden docks somewhere different, on a pirate shore, and those without husbands go ashore to scour bars and taverns. All the sixty-one maidens are devastatingly beautiful, and although every pirate is aware of the curse, they allow themselves to be taken back to the ship, where they become prisoners of the sirens. Or else, if they find no-one of interest on land, they play their trump card. On the open seas, there comes a haunting melody the enraptures an oncoming vessel. The men allow themselves to be boarded by the enchanting ladies, who kill all those old and ugly, and capture those they wish to make their husbands. No doubting that's what happened to the likes of your poor father, laddie." The old sea-dog finished sadly.
Jack rotated his mug clockwise and counter-clockwise on the table several minutes later, breaking the silence that previously hung over the table, "But why does the Drifting Maiden still sail, even after 200 years? Surely they'd all have taken husbands by now."
"Ah, but each maiden still has not learnt the lesson the pirate captain tried to teach them. They take any man they fancy as handsome, but they often don't love him. And they expect, because of their beauty, that any man should love them. They take it for granted that beauty equates to love, so often neither the husband nor the maiden loves each other, therefore the curse is not fulfilled; they must love each other. Also, each maiden is picky, and tires easily of her man. Fickle, she will discard him, so to this day, at no time have all 61 maidens have a husband.
Some husbands die eventually of old age, as the curse doesn't make them immortal, but mostly the maidens tire of them and kill them. Their 'wives' then mourn them for several years and refuse to 'man-hunt' for a while. Rumour has it that the Lady herself comes ashore each year, charming every man she meets, but being so choosey, has never taken a husband. None seem to fulfill her fancy. Apparently, she is waiting forher pirate to come back to her, as she has realised that he is the only man she will ever love."
Dirty Harold's voice dropped even further, "This is part of the tale that only me family knows. Every year, when the husbands have been selected, the Drifting Maiden makes a pilgrimage back to the pirate captain's island. Any man that truly loves his wife survives the voyage, but most die. There's some sort of test the 'husbands' must undertake, to see if their love is true, before they can get married. Perhaps it is the very wedding ceremony itself, I dunno. Me great-great-great-grandmother was one of the maidens who was going to take the voyage with the Lady – one of the original 60 maidens selected for the trip. But she caught small-pox, and her face was marked with the sores, so she was replaced by a fairer-looking maiden. To her dying day she was thankful for those pits and pock-marks. She reckoned the ghost of the pirate captain comes back to the island every year to test the men, and his wrath and anger scares the potential husbands so much they die of pure fright. Only those who truly love the maiden survives his wrath.
There's been other little twitters have reached my poor old ears, they have." Harold dropped his voice further, and those still awake and conscious around the table leant in closer. "Some men have seen her snow-white sails, heard snatches of her haunting song. Some have even seen the glowing eyes of their figurehead, and clawed their eyes out thereafter in pure terror and horror. The Drifting Maiden sails again lads, and she sails close-by. She tracks down the Black Pearl. The Lady believes the Captain, Jack Sparrow, is her pirate beau reincarnate, walking the earth and sailing the seas once more. Mayhaps he is, mayhaps he isn't. He's once crazy dog, that Sparrow, and no-one knows his story. As tight-mouthed as a clam when it comes to his family, his history, his past. He escaped the Lady once, the stories say. Or perhaps she let him go to pursue another quarry, but has since realised his identity and comes back to claim him once more. Whatever the story, the Lady won't let him slip through her clutches once more, poor blighter. Wouldn't want to be him on any day of the week.
But enough o' that heavy stuff, lad. You've found out the fate of yer poor father, God rest his soul," Dirty Harold clumsily picked up his mug of ale and called the toast, "To Smithy's father." All mugs and pints were raised and toasted, Dirty Harry's foam of his beer slopping over his mug and the table, and they chugged the brew back in a mouthful. Jack soberly followed suit.
"Say, Smithy, did your father go by a name? 'S not proper to toast whiff-out 'is proper name, otherwise 'e won't know we're toasting to 'im, so then what's the point?"
"The point is to get drunk, Sinone." Slurred another. Sinone ignored him, intent on toasting Jack's father correctly.
"What's 'is name?" He persisted.
Jack looked at his tankard soberly for several moments before he spoke. His eyes were blank and his stare vacant as he contemplated beyond the question, "I never knew his name."
In the furtherest, darkest and quietest corner of the room, a stranger silently raised their glass in a wordless toast to the pirate captain.
Sorry if I've waffled on; I hope it all made sense. It's been in my head for so long I've sort of forgotten I haven't mentioned it properly in the story. I hope you get the story of the Drifting Maiden now, although there still is a few more links I have to tie up. I hope I didn't bore you if I carried on too much or it sounded corny or whatever. Perhaps it was a let down and not what you expected at all… I don't know whimper
I just realised, the story Jack told at the start, about his father being a blacksmith was just a story he concocted – inspired by William no doubt – but at the end, when he says he doesn't know his father's name, I can't work out if it's truth or fiction. I'm meant to be the one writing the story, and Jack still has me stumped.
Reviews – sweet nectar of the Gods!
Lonaargh – I get what you mean ;P I did some reading up on the Flying Dutchman, before I even knew it was going to be in POTC. (Well, the true story wasn't really in POTC, only the ship's name was, but anyway.) There seems to be two versions of the Captain Van Der Decken; one was that he was plain evil, and sailed drunkenly into a storm, cursed the God himself, stating he'd sail around the Cape until Judgement Day, got mutinied against, killed the leader and then either God or the Devil showed up, whom he insulted and then became cursed forever. The other version was he was just a nice captain who didn't notice the storm until it was too late, almost made it past the rocks of the Cape, didn't, and in rage swore he'd round the Cape even if it took until doomsday. The first version seems a bit more interesting, even if slightly dramatic. I love pirate legends :)
Oh, and the reason behind the internet shut-down time. Because I go to Boarding School, I'm connected to their internet network thingy. To stop us from running up their internet bills, the tech men put a time limit on the internet – they turn it on at 8am and off at 9:30pm. Fun fun.
Willowred – Yeah, Captain Peril's one nasty bastard. I haven't worked out what his issues and history is, but in short, he's just plain evil. It's so hard to think in the same way Jack would think; he's a difficult character to write. He is very abstract, (good term) and you get the feeling he can read people so well that his life is like one big chess-board; he places people where he wants them, and he knows exactly where on the board they'll move next, and which pawns he can sacrifice to checkmate the King. He's a bit ruthless that way…
Crzywildchick804 – I'd love to read one, if you're happy to let me :)
ButWhyIsAllTheRUMGone – Just thought I'd say: you have one very cool pen name.
DCoD – sorry I couldn't update sooner. I felt really slack and bad and nasty, leaving you all with that cliff-hanger. Hope you liked the story behind the Drifting Maiden.
Apple-365 – I promise, I won't kill Jack. He won't let me and everyone would hate me if I did. Yeah, Anamaria. She will show up, I promise. I just don't know when. If there's adventure or trouble, she'll be there when it really counts.
Damn it, I promised Jacquelyn Sparrow this chapter would have her name in it, and she's been patient and waiting for a while now… I'll have to write some more and update again later today. Thank-you all for your patience and kind words!