Disclaimer: POTC is Disney's, my OCs are mine.
A Sparrow's Shadow on the Sea
The Book of Lost and Found Souls
I woke up nestled in Jack's arms still, safe and warm. I listened as the wind howled, angrily hurling the rain at the Pearl. A flicker of lightning was closely followed by a loud clap of thunder. I burrowed under the covers and snuggled against Jack's warm chest. He stirred, mumbling, and engulfed me in his strong arms. In between the sound of the storm, the Pearl rocked and creaked. And I couldn't feel more content.
There was a knock on the cabin doors. I carefully disengaged myself from Jack's embrace and got up. I pulled up my breeches, having slept in my shirt, and walked to the doors. I quietly opened them to see Gibbs.
"Mornin', lass, how're ye feelin'?" he asked.
"Shhh, Jack's still sleeping," I told him, "I feel fine, Gibbs. It's been so relaxing to sleep and listen to the storm."
"I brought the two of ye some breakfast," he whispered as he quietly entered and placed a tray on the table.
"Thank you," I responded, "Was there any more damage to the Pearl overnight?"
"No, lass, looks as if we were spared the full brunt of the storm's fury," Gibbs replied, "Soon as the weather clears, we'll start on repairs. Get the Cap'n's old girl back in fine shape."
I smiled. "It'll be nice to get back out to sea," I commented, "Feels like we've been cooped up forever."
Gibbs smiled warmly at me, "Aye…it's no wonder Jack loves ye so, lass, ye got the same restless spirit as him."
I watched, smiling, as Gibbs shuffled off, then watched the rain for a moment before closing the doors.
"Jack!" I screamed, "You scared the hell out of me!"
Jack had soundlessly snuck up to stand right next to me, so when I closed the doors, he was right there…smirking, wearing only his breeches. His long, dark dreadlocks cascaded over his shoulders and bare chest.
"You left me alone in my bed, luv. I was cold, with no one soft and warm to cling to," he said, making a sad, pouty face.
I smiled at him, sliding my arms over his shoulders and around his neck. "You're spoiled, Jack," I teased, "Just how did you ever survive being at sea for weeks or months at a time, with no female companionship? Hmmm?"
"Eeeeve," he drawled my name, "You know I'd make up for lost time, whenever we'd make port." He smirked, as he slid his hands around my waist. "But with you here, with me, always, I'm not forced to endure those lengthy periods of torturous loneliness," he said as he held his warm hands on my lower back, pressing me against his body.
"No, I provide you with a completely different variety of torture to endure, with these annoying mood swings," I said, smirking.
He grinned lecherously. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, luv. I can navigate the waters of your tempestuous emotions with ease," he said, moving his hands under my shirt, to caress my back. "And the way you torture me so sweetly with your enticing ways makes the journey all the more intriguing."
He was so close his lips were almost, but not quite, touching mine. My heart was racing and I felt like I was trembling, overwhelmed by my desire for him.
"Jack," I said softly, "You are a wicked, insatiable pirate."
He grinned villainously, "And you wouldn't want me any other way, luv." He brushed his lips to mine, only for an instant, before pulling back. "You do want me, don't you, Eve?" he said, his voice low and seductive.
"Yes," I whispered, then kissed him. Deeply and possessively.
He moved his hands over my bottom. I wrapped my legs around him as he picked me up, and carried me to the bed, our kisses uninterrupted.
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"The tea's cold," Jack grimaced, as we sat at the table eating breakfast.
"It was hot when Gibbs brought it," I told him, "But, you proved to be much hotter." I smiled teasingly. "If you don't like it, don't drink it."
He drank it and continued sticking his tongue out and making faces, along with a few sounds to emphasize his unhappiness. I swear sometimes watching him was like watching a cartoon character.
I slouched in the chair with my legs crossed, circling my bare foot in the air while watching him.
"Jack, you've endured being branded, cut, shot twice, being killed…"
"And this tea is worse than all of 'em," he interrupted, peevishly.
"Then don't drink it," I repeated firmly.
He made another dramatic face and finally put the cup down.
I listened to the rain as it poured down over the ship. The wind, lightning, and thunder seemed to have surrendered its grip on the Pearl. I wondered how long it would take for this relentless downpour to pass us by. I was feeling restless and caged. The storminess had been exciting, but enduring the seemingly never-ending rain was becoming tiresome. I was having my first experience of "cabin fever," and it was driving me stircrazy.
"So, is this what you normally do when confronted with storms?" I asked.
"Normally, we'd just sail straight through, continuing on our course," Jack replied, "But, since we happened to be near land, I decided anchoring in the bay was a safer choice." He paused briefly to look at me. "And a good thing too, since we now need to make repairs before heading back out to sea."
"Ugh," I sighed, throwing my head back, and rolling it in circles to crack my neck. The several staccato pops and cracks I'd produced made me smile with relief.
Jack watched with an amused expression. "Anxious to get out on the open sea, luv? Do a little pirating and plundering?" he asked, unable to suppress his grin.
"It would be a welcome change, yes," I answered as I stood and began to softly pace the floor in my bare feet.
Jack got up and went to one of his cabinets. He unlocked it and reached in to remove a very worn, brown leather book, about the size of a modern-day binder. He re-locked the cabinet, then turned to me.
"Here, luv," he held the book out to me, "Leafing through this may capture your attention for a bit."
I took the heavy book and sat on the edge of the bed, resting the thick volume on my lap. "What is it?" I asked, as I ran my hands over the outside, feeling the soft texture of the worn leather.
"The naïve scribblings of a young man," he muttered, as he got himself a bottle of rum.
I opened the book. The wrinkled parchment pages were crisp and crinkly as I turned them. It was a sketchbook full of drawings. Images Jack had seen throughout his life, and had chosen to document.
The first portion was obviously from his home on Tortuga. There were drawings of flowers and birds. Ruby's garden! And there was a sketch of Ruby. She was just a young girl, laughing, as she sat in a tree.
There were several of Jack's mother. One was a portrait of her face, smiling serenely. She wore her hair up in a bun, with a few tendrils having worked their way loose to hang softly by her face. And there was one of her in a nightgown, standing by a window, sadly gazing out at the view.
There was only one of his father. He was laughing, and looked happy.
The next section had a lot of ships drawn in it. Sketches of men loading cargo at the docks. A few sketches of tavern wenches as well.
There was a beautiful drawing of the Black Pearl, however, the writing indicated it had been drawn while she was still known as the Wicked Wench.
"I drew that when I first saw her," Jack mentioned.
"These are incredible, Jack," I said as I kept looking at the book, "Do you still draw?"
"Nah, too busy to have the time," he said dismissively, as he took a swig of rum.
There was a series of drawings from his travels. Exotic temples, more ships, and people from Asia. An Indian marketplace. Some primitive tribes people. Colourful tropical birds and mammals he'd seen. And every few pages, there was a sketch of a wench. Some blonde, some brunette. Some in taverns, plying their wares. Others reclining on a bed, the shoulders of their gowns having slipped down onto their arm, and their laces loosened.
I smiled. "And some evidently not so naïve scribblings as well," I mentioned.
Jack peered over to see what I was referring to. "Oh…yeah," he said as he smiled sheepishly.
The drawings began to gradually depict more somber themes. Drawings of slaves at auction. Ships at battle. Men engaged in combat with swords and pistols. An especially compelling one of a man with a sword protruding from his belly, a look of shock and disbelief on his face. And all these scenes were routinely interrupted, by a different scantily-clad wench, every few pages.
Then, I got to the events involving the cursed pirates he'd told me about on the island. A drawing of an aging pirate captain wearing a flamboyant hat showed half his face as skeletal.
Jack had come to sit next to me. "That would be Barbossa, my mutinous first mate," he pointed out, gesturing toward the image with the rum bottle.
The next page showed a man sleeping cozily between two large pigs.
"And that's Gibbs!" Jack said happily. "Exactly as I found him on Tortuga."
"That's Gibbs?" I asked, giggling.
"Aye, luv, improved his station in life a bit since then, eh?" he commented, grinning.
The next page had a couple of drawings of a young man. I looked at Jack, waiting for his comments.
"That's my friend, William Turner. I usually just call him the Whelp," Jack explained, "Skilled blacksmith. If I ever need a new sword, he's gonna be the one I get it from."
I turned to the next page. There were several drawings of a young woman, and the page was titled "Elizabeth."
"So, there she is," I said.
Jack glanced at the book, then lunged to grab it. I quickly whisked it out of his reach.
"We can just skip over the next few pages," he said, trying to grab for the book.
"No, I want to see," I told him.
He sighed, slumped, then took a long gulp of rum.
I looked at the drawings, obviously done when they were on better terms.
"She's a bit bony, compared to the others," I mentioned, "Not your typical style, Jack."
"More than made up for it in spirit," he said flatly. His eyes were cold and expressionless as he glanced at her image.
I turned the page to reveal a horrific picture of the Black Pearl. The tentacles of a giant sea creature slithering up the sides, threatening to engulf the beautiful ship.
I gasped, "Oh…Jack," I whispered sorrowfully as I looked at him, my eyes welled up with tears.
He put his arm around my shoulders and kissed me on the forehead. "Time and tides, luv," he said, "Got her back in the end."
As I stared at the picture, I decided not to ask him any of the questions that insistently begged to be asked.
I turned the page and it was blank. I turned another page as I asked, "Is that the end?"
Jack looked at me. "No, Eve, it's the beginning," he said as he reached across me to reveal the next page.
I looked at the drawings that were so carefully rendered on the following pages. There were about a dozen of them. All of them were of me.
"Too busy, huh?" I teased.
He had sketched me as I'd slept, several times, and as Mr. Cotton instructed me on knot tying. He had depicted me climbing to the crow's nest, that day when I'd come to realize I loved him.
"Oh, Jack," I said as I turned the page, "I love this one!" The drawing showed me standing at the bow, wearing a shirt and breeches, the wind blowing through my loose hair. "It's so beautiful and perfect," I said, as I thought of all the times I'd stood in my favorite spot on deck. I always felt so free there, like I was flying over the waves.
"As are you, darlin'," Jack said, as he smiled at me.
I kissed him, then softly whispered, "I love you, Jack Sparrow."
He looked at me, his dark eyes sparkling, as he reached to turn the page.
And I saw myself lying on a pillow, looking blissfully happy, my hair splayed out over the pillow and my shoulders.
"I drew that one after our first time," he explained, "While you were sleeping. I wanted to always remember that expression in your eyes." He smiled somewhat nervously, even now feeling somewhat vulnerable in revealing his innermost feelings.
I looked at him, as I held my hand on my heart. "I don't know what to say, Jack," I confessed, overwhelmed.
"No need to say anything, Eve, I can see it all in your eyes," he said softly.
I smiled, as I turned to next page. What I saw made me giggle. It was me in my red dress, a bottle of rum in my hand. I was sitting draped across a chair, my skirt hiked up to reveal a bit of leg. The dress slid off one shoulder, and my hair cascading down sensuously. My head was thrown back in laughter.
"I'm afraid I don't remember this," I teased.
"Uh…bit of artistic license, as it were," he said, his eyes glinting mischievously. "You really can be such a wench sometimes, Eve."
I laughed softly. "I think I like this one best of all," I commented. "It looks like a portrait that should be hung over a huge fireplace, in a stately manor someplace," I joked.
Jack grinned at me. "More likely, in a tavern, luv," he teased.
"The Laughing Wench Tavern!" I suggested, smiling brazenly.
"Now there's a place I would certainly frequent!" he replied, chuckling.
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A/N: Yes, I know, more "down time." But, fear not, there's quite a bit of action and adventure coming up soon! My most grateful thanks to everyone who read and reviewed! Hope you enjoyed the chapter!