Disclaimer: I tried to lure Jack into my house with rum, but Disney got in my way, so he's not mine.
AN: In this chapter, we find out a bit more about Gerry, as well as more of an explanation as to what's happening and why. It's also a bit longer than normal, so I hope that everyone likes it and will review! Thanks!
Chapter 19: The Price of Being Noble:
Jack watched as Marty took a turn on a pipe that was being passed around the deck, and wished he had the gall to join them. However, smoking was one of the few sinful pirate acts that Jack didn't take part in; for one thing, the smoke made him cough. The other thing he hated about smoking was that it made his clothes smell awful, and he couldn't stand the idea of smelling bad.
'Especially if Rose were to catch a whiff of it and decided to throw me overboard,' he thought, almost laughing at the thought of Rose grabbing him and tossing him off the Pearl.
He knew that Rose hated it when people smoked, which was why the men tended to indulge in the habit when she wasn't there. The only smoking that went on was when Rose was asleep or when she was below deck, working in the galley or checking the stores. Once she was out of sight, out came the pipes and the tobacco, and up went the curls of smoke. For those that didn't participate in the habit, the smoke was often blown away by the sea breezes, so no one, not even Jack, really objected to the habits of their fellow crewmen.
Sighing, Jack tried to keep his eyes focused on the horizon and the direction they were going, but he wasn't having much luck. He was exhausted, and he knew it. This was their third day at sea, following the course given to them by Jack's compass, and Jack had been at the helm practically the whole time. The only rest he got was in spurts of one or two hours of sleep, and that was usually when Gibbs threatened to knock him out and have him dragged down to his cabin. All told, Jack had probably gotten no more than six or seven hours of rest over the past three days.
'I can't rest,' he thought, the scent of the tobacco making him a bit drowsy. 'I can't sleep without Rose beside me and my arms around her while we both rest. It just doesn't seem right, lying in our bed without her there.'
To him, the bed in their cabin seemed cold and empty with just him in there. For most of his life, Jack Sparrow had slept alone in his cabin and found it perfectly fine. Before Rose, the only times he had ever shared a bed was with a wench at an inn whenever he was in port. Now that he'd experienced waking up beside the woman he loved, sleeping just wasn't the same without her. Every time Jack was sent to rest, his arm began searching out for Rose's warm, soft form, eager to pull her close so that he could feel her hair on his cheek or her body against his. When he didn't find her, Jack would open his eyes in a panic and search the room for her; then he would remember that Rose wasn't there anymore, and his heart would break all over again. Thus far, standing at the helm was the only thing keeping his madness at bay.
"Jack, if you don't go and get some sleep, I swear I'll knock you in the head with the handle of my pistol!" Gibbs snapped as he strode up to the helm.
"Sorry, mate, I just can't do it," Jack replied as he tried to focus on where he was going. "It just doesn't feel right without Rose."
Gibbs sighed and shook his head. "For Pete's sake, Jack, you haven't slept in days!" the older man retorted. "And when you have slept, it wasn't for very long!"
Turning his head, Jack glared at the man both he and Rose considered a fatherly figure. "Gibbs, while I respect you and your opinion, I refuse to acquiesce to your request."
For a moment, Gibbs stood there silently, his eyes not leaving Jack's face. "Right, then," he said, pulling out his flask. "Care for a little nip, sir?"
Always eager for a bit of rum, Jack accepted the flask and drank deeply. He didn't even feel the effect of the drug sink in until after he'd handed Gibbs back his flask.
Bright light pierced through the darkness and into his eyes, causing Jack to fling a hand over his face and roll away from it. As he slowly regained his bearings, he realized that he was lying on something soft and was covered up with a light sheet. Confused and alarmed, Jack's eyes flew wide open and he immediately sat up, trying to figure out where, exactly, he was.
The familiar sight of his cabin filled his eyes, and he sat back with a sigh. Gibbs must have drugged him in order to get him to catch up on sleep, and Jack didn't know whether he should feel angry or grateful. True, he needed to rest, but without him to guide them, precious time must have been lost in their tracking of the Storm Chaser and her captain. Just thinking about all of those lost hours made Jack furious with both himself and his men. It was time to get back to work.
Pushing aside the sheet, Jack looked down at himself. He was still fully dressed, though someone had kindly removed his boots before tucking him in. A look over the right side of the bed told him where they were, and as soon as he had them on, he was out of the cabin and on deck. The wall of noise that greeted him was something he did not expect. While he'd been asleep, the Pearl had apparently been steered into a port, and just as Jack was about to holler for Gibbs, the older man magically appeared and pulled him back inside the cabin, shutting the door behind them.
"Now Jack, let me explain," Gibbs said in a tone of voice that broke no argument. Even though he wanted to shoot his first mate, Jack nodded and Gibbs continued. "It's been days since you've gotten any descent rest; you proved that by sleeping for a whole day straight, even with the small about of opium I put in the flask."
Jack stared at his friend. Had he really slept a whole day? He knew he'd been tired, but never did he think that he had been that tired! The small bit of opium might make him drowsy enough to want to lie down and take a nap, but if his body had been that drained, then the drug most certainly would have put him under for quite some time.
Meanwhile, Gibbs was still talking. "Once you were out, the men and I decided that engaging Hastings and the Storm Chaser in a battle all by ourselves would be stupid, since we had no idea of Hastings broke up his fleet or not," he said, hooking his thumbs into the top of his belt. "We figured that we'd pull into the nearest port for a few more supplies and some information. The men are out in the town now, working their way through the taverns."
Sighing, Jack nodded and hung his head, knowing how stupid he'd been in not planning this rescue better. Most of his wild adventures and escapes had been half-planned, half improvising; his mission to rescue Rose, however, had no plan. All he had was the image of Rose being back in his arms and Gerry sinking into the depths of the ocean, his ship aflame as the Pearl sailed away from the wreckage. How that would happen, exactly, was something Jack hadn't worked out quite yet.
"What have you found out so far?" he asked, glancing up at his first mate.
Gibbs crossed his arms and sighed. "Not much, given that most of the sailors here are unusually tight-lipped," he replied. "Forgive my saying so, Cap'n, but it'd be my guess that the sailors in town might be more…talkative if you were to be the one asking the questions. Some of the people got a bit quiet when we said which ship we were sailing with."
An eyebrow quirked a bit on Jack's face when he heard that last bit of information. So the men in this port feared the Black Pearl's crew, eh? Well, that was interesting. "Gibbs, I need some hot water brought to my cabin…I think I'm long overdue for a bath. I'll also need something good and hardy to eat before I head into town as well; I don't trust the taverns to provide anything better than some horrid slop that might cause my stomach to rebel against me."
"Aye, sir," Gibbs said with a nod.
It was time to pull himself out of his little rut of angst and depression. Even though he missed his wife with every fiber of his being, Jack knew that moping about would get him nowhere. He needed to be alert and focused if he was going to save Rose, and in order to be alert, he needed to rest, eat, and ask a lot of questions. Hopefully, those questions would provide a few answers…
Checking himself one last time in the mirror, Jack brought the dagger to his throat and carefully scrapped upwards, taking a few straggling hairs with it. As a pirate, shaving was something he didn't often indulge in, especially when his whiskers made his wife laugh oh-so-delightfully whenever he kissed her in certain places. However, given how long it had been since he'd last 'neatened himself up,' Jack felt it was time to trim back any hairs that had overgrown themselves.
A quick rinse in the basin and a wipe on the rag towel, and the dagger was back in Jack's belt, ready for other uses. He'd already bathed and eaten a good meal, but as he'd devoured his food, Jack had tried not to get his hopes up when it came to getting information about Hastings. There might be little tidbits, but he didn't expect anything really large or important. Still, the tiniest thing could help him…
Pulling on his coat and effects, Captain Jack Sparrow took a deep breath and headed for the door of his cabin, ready to go out into the world and leave his mark.
Seated in the fifth tavern he'd been to that night, Jack watched with a mixture of amusement and frustration as the man before him drank down another mug of rum. Honestly, the man was drunk enough for ten sailors, and yet he still acted like he hadn't had enough! At least Jack knew when to stop, but this fellow appeared to want to drown in the stuff!
"So, what was I sayin'?" the man asked, dazed blue eyes staring at the two men before him.
Jack looked over at Gibbs and rolled his eyes. Both he and his first mate had long given up trying to sober the man enough to talk sensibly, so Gibbs had decided to buy enough rum to keep him talkative, but not passed-out drunk. So far, they had gotten nothing, but now that the sailor was asking…
"Gerard Hastings," Gibbs prompted. "You were talking about Hastings and his ship."
Barton had discovered this pathetic drunkard by asking random questions at several bars. The customers at these bars had been either barely helpful, or they shut their mouths when they found out which ship Bart worked on. One of the clammed-up sailors had been the key to getting Jack's present informant, but the tightlipped sailor had refused to talk to anyone but Jack himself. Barton had been forced to retrieve his Captain and drag him through several bars, searching for their silent link. They had found him, and once Jack had aimed his cocked and loaded pistol at the man's face, he'd directed them to who they needed to talk to.
'Which is why I'm sitting here, waiting for this man to find a point between drunk stupid and barely conscious,' Jack thought, tapping his fingers on the top of the table. When he'd arrived, the man had already been lost in his cup, and as the night wore on, he was getting worse.
"Oh, right, Hastings," the drunk slurred. "Bloody ass…arrogant, that man is! Just because he comes from some Scottish noble family, he thinks he can walk all over anybody!"
Jack immediately perked up in his seat. "What did you say?" he blurted.
The drunk looked at him. "What did I say about what?" he asked, confused.
Gibbs put a restraining hand on his Captain's shoulder. "You said Hastings is from a noble family?"
"Oh, right!" the drunk said, smiling brightly. "Aye, the man's a fraud of a pirate…got all of his pretty ships using his Papa's money." The man shook his head. "Now, since the English don't take too kindly to the Scots, having a fleet isn't allowed, so dear Hastings takes a large sack of loot and drops it on the doorstep of some shipbuilder, and it's that man who made those ships for him."
"Why did Hastings turn to piracy?" Jack asked before Gibbs could stop him.
"Don't know," was the slurred reply. "Maybe he wanted more money, or maybe he just wanted adventure…" To Jack's surprise, the man actually seemed to be thinking about it. "Then again…his mum always loved ships…said they were true freedom, she did…" With that, the man slumped over in his seat, snoring.
Jack almost shook the man awake to demand more answers, but Gibbs stopped him. "Maybe we should take him back to the Pearl to sober up, sir?" he said with a small jerk of his head in the direction of the ship.
Nodding, Jack moved to the other side of the table, barely resisting the urge to dump the drunk on his head, just for spite.
The next morning dawned bright and clear, just the way Jack liked it. He woke bright and early, as was his usual habit, and had enjoyed a good breakfast with his men in the galley. Breakfast with the men was a good way to start the day, and since no one trusted the taverns in town to provide decent fare, every man (and bird) was there. The meal was slightly bland without Rose there to cook, and that made them all miss her even more.
After the dishes were cleared and washed up, Jack led Mr. Gibbs and Barton down below to the brig, where Jack and Gibbs had hauled the drunk after he'd passed out. Surprisingly enough, the man was awake and groaning in pain from what was probably a mighty hangover. Jack grinned at the other man's suffering and pulled out a small bottle from one of his coat pockets.
"Here, man," he whispered, getting the prisoner's attention immediately. "I'll give you this remedy for your little hangover if you tell me exactly what I need to know."
The man hesitated only a moment before frantically gesturing for the bottle. Jack handed it to him through the bars and before he could blink twice, the potion was down the man's throat. Studying him through the bars, Jack watched as the drunk's face eased of pain and nausea.
"Better, mate?" Jack asked, tucking his thumbs into his belt. The man nodded. "Good. Now, tell me your name; I can't seem to remember it."
"Alex," the prisoner muttered. "You can call me Alex…"
"Alright, Alex it is, then," Jack said, looking down while staying far away so that he couldn't smell him. Honestly, the man was so filthy there was no way to tell what he looked like! The only trait was Alex's blue eyes staring out at him.
"So, Alex," Gibbs said, coming closer. "Care to tell me a bit about Hastings? Well, hopefully a bit more than what you told us last night at the tavern."
Alex looked up at them. "I told you about Hastings?" he blurted out, eyes going wide. He sighed when Jack nodded. "Well, I'm no fool, though I am a drunk. I know you're looking for your bonny wife, Captain Sparrow." He looked up at the three men though the bars. "Aye, I know who you are…especially since I doubt any other man in the seas has the same hair as you do."
Normally, Jack would have puffed up with pride or defended his hair, but this was not the time. "Thanks, mate, but we were talking about Hastings, not me or my hair. How do you know I'm looking for him because of my wife?"
Alex merely gave him a sad smile. "I know because I was on one of the ships that helped take her."
Over an hour later, Jack sat in his cabin, trying to work his mind through all that he'd learned about his new enemy. Alex had proved remarkably useful, and to thank him, Jack had given him enough gold to get him drunk for the next week, though he was still in the brig. True, he had been useful, but Jack was still angry about Gerry, and a good informant was worth keeping, especially in this case. Besides, Jack had every intention of releasing Alex after this whole thing with Gerry was over.
According to his tale, Alex had been a deckhand on one of Gerry's ships, and had seen Rose be taken from the Pearl. Until then, he'd been clueless as to what had been going on, but afterwards, Alex had gone to the first mate and asked to be informed. At first, the first mate had been reluctant to answer, but when a few other men decided they, too, wanted to know what had just happened, he'd told them.
Gerard Hastings, owner of a fleet of pirate ships paid for by his own hand, was a Scottish nobleman. His father was practically a lord, and had been very wealthy, bestowing on his son all of the wealth and learning that went with being from the aristocracy. However, Gerry's mother had come from an impoverished noble family, and she had always taken her son to see what life had been like before she'd married Gerry's father.
As he was growing up, Lady Hastings had shown her son the things that she herself had experienced. Whatever she loved, he loved as well, and the one thing that Lady Hastings loved more than her husband and son was the sea. She had grown up in a large house close to a port town, and had always watched the ships sail out into the ocean, their sails unfurling in the breeze. When Gerry was old enough, she would take him on short trips to the sea, and they would stay at an inn that faced the harbor and watch the ships come and go for hours at a time.
When Gerry had been ten-years-old, his mother fell ill and died of a fever she had caught, leaving him with his father, Lord Hastings, and the precious jewelry and trinkets she valued. While she lay dying, Gerry had sworn to his mother to take care of her jewelry, and to give them to the woman he chose as a bride. He'd also sworn that, if he had the chance, he would sail the seas for her, as she had not been able to herself. With his promises given, his mother died with a peaceful smile upon her lips.
After she passed, Gerry was left in the hands of his father, who never fully recovered from his wife's sudden death. Two years later, Lord Hastings passed away, but not before one last talk with his son. Lord Hastings had forced Gerry to promise that, when he came of age, to marry a noblewoman who would bring wealth and nobility to the family name. What was said next shocked Gerry to the core.
The truth was, after Lord Hastings had married his wife and saved her from poverty, a great deal of his money had gone to support her parents and her brothers and sisters. Even though he had loved his wife, the act of sacrificing so much of his wealth had left Lord Hastings bitter and angry about his marriage. Even though most of the Hastings' money and wealth were still intact, it was still noticeably diminished from what the Hastings heirs were supposed to inherit. This was why the dying Lord forced his son to swear to marry for first money, then love. If he could not find a woman to share his heart with, then money would have to do, if only to secure a future for the family line.
"You must also remember that the English hate us, and wish to see us poor and weak," Lord Hastings also told his son. "Wealth and a strong, powerful family name is the only way to keep ourselves safe. Be strong, my son, and never let anyone rule over you."
With those last words, Lord Hastings left his son with a determination to take the world in hand and do whatever he wished with it. The servant assigned to care for the young Lord Hastings had been a hard, arrogant man that Gerard had feared and respected most of his life, and in time, Gerard learned that if people feared and respected you, they did what they were told.
Upon arriving at the age of inheriting all of his father's estates and money, Gerard left his home in Scotland, determined to carry out his mother's dream of sailing the seas. However, he was not going to do it in the way she had planned. The only way to make both his father and mother proud was to do something illegal, but Gerard was willing to do it. He was going to become a pirate.
With money in hand, he purchased several ships and went about hiring crews that met his needs. In the dankest taverns and bars, Gerard found the greediest sailors around, most of which had no conscience or problems with following orders. Those who obeyed orders were well-rewarded; those who dared to defy their new captain were punished with whippings or days in the brig, living on water and gruel that might as well have been water. It was a harsh system, but it worked. So, with a small fleet at his command, as well as his aristocratic ties to Royal Navies and merchant shipyards across Europe, the newly dubbed Captain Hastings had no difficulty in finding his way in the pirating world.
Within a year, he was ten times as rich as he had been before, but he still wanted more. Turning towards a smuggling/black market business was the next step. Usually he attacked and plundered ships heading towards the Americas, since there were many wealthy families who were heading there with all of their expensive possessions. With a fleet at his beck-and-call, Captain Hastings was able to surround even a trio of ships and pillage them with very little resistance. Once he had all of the goods, he could easily sell them to another rich family, one that was probably a rival of the family who had originally owned the goods in the first place. It was quite amusing to watch a rich man gloat over buying a rival's stolen furniture or china, and the pay was always worth it.
As time went on, though, Gerard found himself in need of a wife. Jack's accidental theft of the late Lady Hastings' necklace had awoken a need in her son that could not be quieted. He had to have an heir to his fortunes and his pirating fleet, but in his new line of work, getting a noblewoman as a bride was out of the question. Even though it was highly doubtful that anyone would connect him to the pirating of ships and the black market in which he sold his goods, Gerard knew that it would still be difficult to find a wife from a rich, noble family.
Relying once more on his connections to the Scottish aristocracy, as well as the other countries his father had been connected with, Gerard managed to stay in contact with an old friend from his school days. Sir James Harrington of England had been keeping his old school friend up-to-date on the happenings within the gossip circles, including one scandalous incident that involved James himself. Gerard was fascinated to learn about how James' intended bride, Angela Nelson, had vanished mere hours before their wedding ceremony, never to be found even after many searches. James had ranted on and on about how humiliating it was until someone claimed that she might have been kidnapped. Apparently one of the ships in the harbor, notably one with black sails, had left immediately before Miss Nelson disappeared, and so the idea of her being kidnapped wasn't so far-fetched.
And then came the day that Gerard ran into the Pearl and he saw Rose…
'That's when he knew who Rose was,' Jack realized, staring at the nearest wall. 'His friend, the one that had been engaged to her, must have told him what Rose/Angela looked like in the hopes of Gerry spotting her on one of his runs at sea.'
It still shocked Jack that the man he knew was a noble. It wasn't very often that rich men went against everything they were taught and brought up in, but it still happened. Gerry's noble breeding, however, had stuck with him; he wanted a wife from a wealthy family, a woman who was brought up in high society and could be a good mistress to an estate. Rose was easily all those things, and Gerry had seen that the moment he'd set eyes on her.
'I won't let him have her,' Jack swore as he turned to glare out the window.
The thought of Rose being forced to marry Hastings, or worse, being forced to carry his children…it left Jack feeling cold inside. Unbidden, an image of a pregnant, weeping Rose locked up inside a large mansion appeared in Jack's mind. Barely resisting the urge to punch a hole in the wall, Jack stood up and began pacing the room, trying to think of a plan.
"Alex said that Gerry broke up the fleet several days ago," Jack muttered. "That means he's either alone, or he might have picked up another ship or two as guards for when he takes Rose to…wherever he's taking her to."
Whether Gerry was alone or not, Jack was going to need help, and need it soon. Reaching for his belt, he concentrated on his need for aid. He then whipped out his compass and flipped it open, his eyes watching for the direction that the needle pointed to. Strangely enough, it pointed into town.
'What the hell? Why is the bloody thing pointing into town?' Jack thought, his temper close to snapping. The one thing he wanted and needed most right now was some help to find Rose, and the blasted compass was pointing him into town!
"Cap'n!" a voice cried as a fist pounded on his door. "Cap'n, the Turners are here in port, and they're here to see ye!"
Quietly sending up a prayer to the heavens, Jack ran out the door of his cabin to meet his friends and tell them the bad news. Hopefully Elizabeth would understand the matter and not shoot him for losing her newest and dearest friend…
AN: Longer chapter this time! Hope you all enjoyed it and will review! Thanks!