Disclaimer- I do not own any of the Pirates of the Caribbean characters I refer to in this story. I do own Sarah and anyone else whom you don't recognize.
Author's Note- Yes, I know it's been a while. I apologize. School has been relentless and the weekends hold very little free time. I've also been trying to get a better idea of where I want to go with this. Thank you to those who reviewed or read.
Incubus2704- Thank you for reviewing. I'm glad you thought it was well written.
CrimsonCrome- Thanks for the review. Hehe, yeah, I got the e-mail. That was a long time ago. I'm glad you liked Will's grieving. As much as I dislike Elizabeth and want to give her a slow, painful death, she still deserves to be grieved over (much to my dislike).
The Story Continues,
"Hoist the colors," someone called on deck. The sound of scrambling accompanied the words as another person hurried to comply.
Will frowned as the order drifted though the cabin's wooden walls. Such a command was usually given if, and only if, a ship was about to be plundered.
He glanced at Sarah. The woman had fallen into a doze and was now snoring softly. She occasionally mumbled something or moved.
Must be having a dream of some sort. Will demised. Probably a nightmare.
The blacksmith was accustomed to such dreams himself; having been victim to them nearly every night since Elizabeth had died.
The young female had hinted to losing someone in whatever misfortune had befallen on her. That sort of thing usually took a long time to get over.
I should know. I'm practically an expert by now. Mr. Turner thought dryly.
Another call sounded on deck, the one that told the crewmen to be ready to board.
Something was definitely going on.
Will pushed himself up from the chair and opened the cabin door. The harsh sunlight stung his dark accustomed eyes, but he pushed forward.
xxxxx
Captain Jack Sparrow watched the ship as it drifted closer to the Black Pearl.
A semi evil grin graced Sparrow's features.
This was hardly the first time he'd pillaged a ship. The routine was always the same. A British flag waved from main mast, it's colors snapping gently in the breeze. It was all a trick. The other vessel would ignore the pirate ship in disguise, just as ones before it did.
And we all know what happened to them. Jack thought smugly. He loved his work.
He was soon able to read the ship's name it was so close.
The Ocean's Pride was coming nearer and nearer. If they just waited a few more minutes, the vessel's treasure would be theirs.
The sound of a door creaking open behind the captain made him jump. He usually got a little nervous with excitement before this sort of thing took place.
Jack turned around and came face to face with a certain Will Turner.
The young man looked the same as he had for the past few days. His brown eyes were half glazed over, his mind in another world. He was pale with bags under his eyes, no doubt unable to sleep from the nightmares that constantly plagued his mind. It was obvious that the blacksmith had eaten very little over the past few weeks.
Sparrow was beginning to worry about his young friend, just a little.
"What's going on?" Will asked. His voice held its usual dazed sound.
Jack motioned with a nod of his head towards the ship. He grinned.
Will raised his eyebrows and looked a bit confused.
Sparrow rolled his eyes, exasperated.
"We're pirates, Will. And being such, it is our duty to plunder this wonderful ship before us."
The answer seemed to satisfy the young man, as he took to staring at the Ocean's Pride with a thoughtful expression.
"Why don't you join us? Take your mind off Eliza…" Jack cut himself off and felt like clapping a hand over his mouth. His eyes widened when Will looked at him, sadness brought back anew in his eyes.
The blacksmith said nothing. The sorrow and the pain he'd been feeling over the past few weeks rushed back. He'd been trying not to even think about the name of his beloved, it made him think about the good times they had and could have had.
Captain Sparrow didn't say anything else. He didn't want to upset his friend anymore than he already had. Besides, he had a more pressing matter to deal with at the moment.
The Ocean's Pride was close now, very close. If he intended to do anything, he needed to give the order to do it.
"Hoist the colors! Launch the grappling hooks! Prepare to board!" Jack called loudly, his voice carrying with the crisp wind.
The orders were quickly being carried out. The British flag was hastily lowered and replaced with the Jolly Roger, typical of pirates. A large number of grappling hooks were shot at the unsuspecting vessel, their iron spikes gripping the ship's hull. The crewmen who weren't complying with the first two orders stood with swords and pistols, a couple held large planks to get from ship to ship.
Yes, everything was just as it should be.
"Permission to board," Sparrow shouted.
A resounding cry rose from the Black Pearl's crew. They lived for this, being pirates and all. There was a clank as the plank were roughly secured in place and then the sound of pounding feet. Cries arose from the Ocean's Pride.
Captain Jack Sparrow stood in the midst of it all, his compass in hand.
The arrow was still pointed at the ship, though occasionally it wavered.
He sighed. He'd never fully understand that bloody compass.
xxxxx
She was on the Intrepid again.
The sun was shining. The ocean was calm. All seemed well.
Someone called her name and she turned, putting a hand up to stop her hair from blowing in her face. Her dusty red colored skirt blew around her legs.
The wind was picking up.
Abigail stood near the bow of the ship, her red hair also being battered around in the steadily worsening wind. She grinned and waved her friend over to her.
The sky steadily darkened and the grin left Abby's face. The sea grew choppier, violent waves lashing against the side of the ship with all their fury.
It began to rain heavily.
She brushed her rain soaked hair from her blue eyes and stared at Abigail.
A large wave rolled across the deck, knocking the Irish maid over the side, a strangled cry of surprise escaping the woman.
She ran to the side, but could only stare as her friend's fiery colored hair disappeared below the ocean's surface and out of sight.
A sense of emptiness erupted within her. Her best friend was gone and it was all her fault.
She had done nothing but sat back and watched as Abigail sank to her death. She hadn't lifted a finger to save her.
It was completely her fault.
Sarah's eyes snapped open.
She was shaking slightly, but not from being cold. She could feel beads of sweat accumulating on her brow.
It had seemed so real, but it had been just a dream.
Thank God. She thought, smiling. None of it's real. Abby's not dead and we're all safe. Nothing's happened that I should feel responsible for…
Her grin disappeared as past events caught up with her and she remembered where she was and why she was there.
Abigail really is gone and it is all my fault.
Sarah felt tears well up in her eyes.
A loud thump from outside made her jump.
Something was going on, she could feel it.
The British woman pushed herself upright on the bed, a slight wave of dizziness that came from laying down too long coming over her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and made to stand up.
Her legs, still sore from kicking, didn't support her at first and she collapsed back onto the bed.
She reached down to gently massage the muscle of her bare leg.
Wait a minute. Bare leg…
Sarah looked down and blushed profusely.
When she'd first woken up, she'd been in a fairly fragile state of mind and hadn't taken the time to even think about what she was wearing. Now she noticed that she was sporting a rather large, white shirt that was typical of sailors. It dropped almost to her knees, making her legs look thin. Other than that, she wore nothing.
The maid felt her cheeks heat up some more when another thought crossed her mind.
Someone had to have changed me.
She desperately hoped it was the young man…what was his name? Oh yes, Will… whom she'd woken up with earlier who had performed the embarrassing task. He seemed too out of it to notice anything.
The sound of gunfire made her look towards the door.
Sarah's curiosity took hold once again and she suddenly forgot about what she was wearing.
She glanced around and spotted her sword lying idly on the room's desk.
Picking the weapon up, the woman headed towards the door. Her hand rested lightly on the wrought iron door latch. She froze.
This was exactly what happened before…before everything she knew and loved ceased to exist.
She closed her eyes tightly, not fully knowing what to do. Did she really want to relive what had happened last time she'd found herself in this position? Yet, she really wanted to know what was going on outside the cabin.
Another shot and then a shout of pain sounded.
Seemingly on impulse, the British woman opened the door.
The sight that greeted her wasn't exactly what she expected.
Another ship was pulled close to the Black Pearl with a plank over the side to connect the two vessels. The smell of gunpowder and blood was strong in the air. There were men on both ships fighting, screaming, and staggering around with near fatal wounds.
This definitely wasn't a normal occurrence for an honest ship.
Where the Hell and I, then? Sarah wondered. She knew from her brief conversation with Will that she was on the Black Pearl, but hadn't bothered to ask what kind of seafaring vessel it was exactly.
She glanced towards the main mast, where a flag should be hanging.
Her breath caught in her throat.
Pure black with white skull that was almost illuminated against the background, the pirate flag snapped angrily in the breeze.
Everything seemed to be at a standstill for the British woman. She'd heard stories, terrible stories, from Abby about pirates and how they acted. Her Irish companion had said they were cruel with only their own greed and ambitions in mind.
And now she was on one of their ships.
The maid felt like she was going to get sick. The relief she'd originally felt at being rescued was gone, replaced by a feeling of dread and fear.
Her blue eyes desperately searched out a place to hide, from the ongoing fight and the crew of the ship. She finally settled on the hold and, remembering the layout of the Intrepid, hurried to find a place to hide.
xxxxx
Will Turner could feel a bead of sweat roll down the side of his face.
He swung left and right, his sword clashing with those around him. He really wasn't paying attention to what was going on, just reacting to his opponents' movements. Fighting, however, did keep the young man's mind off his recent tragedies, just a little bit.
The blacksmith absently pivoted on his right foot to engage an enemy. The shock of the returned blow made his arm ache all the way up to the shoulder. This caused him to look up; no one had yet to parry with such a strong hit.
The man looked like any other ordinary pirate with his dirty hair and tattered clothing. His steel gray eyes shone with a common hatred. No, he definitely had the outward appearance of a law-breaking ruffian.
Yet, something was different, familiar even.
Will could feel something practically radiating off the scoundrel. It was a feeling of pure anger, of wanting to cause chaos and hurt. Above all, the man's presence also held a sense of secrecy, as though he held knowledge that no one else possessed.
Why are there pirates on a ship called the Ocean's Pride, anyway. Maybe Jack was on to something after all.
It was this thought that brought the blacksmith from his melancholy daze and fully into the fight.
The crew of the other ship looked rough, too rough for what the vessel's name suggested. And they were all fighting furiously.
Something wasn't completely right.
Will began to focus on his duel, making his movements more precise and thought out. Something about the scenario reminded him of that fateful night when he had lost his fiancée.
Elizabeth.
The young man decided that he would win his current battle for nothing else than to begin revenge for his would be wife. The pain in his heart was great and slashing his blade at the pirate seemed to alleviate it, temporarily.
The ruffian reached into his pocket and pulled out a fist full of something.
As Will swung his sword in an accurate, deadly swing, the pirate threw whatever was in his fist at the young man's face.
It was dirt.
Will reflexively stepped back, blinking furiously to get the gritty substance out of his watering eyes. He could taste the earth on his tongue and feel it on his face. A fine dusting of the brown substance had found its way to his hair, making it dirtier than it had been before.
He ran a sleeve across his face to clear some of the dark stuff from his face.
The blacksmith looked hurriedly in both directions, searching for the man he had been fighting earlier.
The pirate was gone.
Another quick glance around the scene revealed that the ruffian was no where in sight. In fact, Will didn't see him on either ship.
It didn't seem likely that the man would've gone below decks on the Ocean's Pride, there was too much fighting going on to do that. However, there was a chance that he could've gone to the Black Pearl, the bloodshed wasn't as heavy on that ship.
With the thought of finding the scoundrel running through his head, Will raced across the gangplank between the two ships.
xxxxx
Sarah inched her way carefully around a barrel. She was pretty sure that everyone on board was occupied with the raid going on above decks, but there wasn't any harm in playing it safe.
Her hand touched something smooth that was seemingly embedded in the wall.
She glanced down and spotted a green bottle. Looking further on, she noticed that there seemed to be a whole store of them, all kept in shelves built into the wall.
Probably rum. She concluded, thinking of what Abby had told her about pirates' tendencies with drinking.
Heavy footsteps behind her made the young woman freeze. Apparently, she'd been wrong about everyone being upstairs.
She looked frantically for a place to hide. She didn't want to face any pirates right now, not after all she'd heard about them.
Sarah felt a surge of panic go through her as she realized there was no where to discretely hide. She was trapped.
Her visitor came closer and she was soon able to distinguish his features.
The man had obviously been at sea for some time as his hair and skin possessed the same grungy sort of look that Will's had. His clothing was nothing more than a bunch of rags and his eyes seemed to hold bitterness.
His cold eyes gazed down at her. His lips curled upward in a cruel sneer.
Out of a nervous impulse, Sarah's hand felt its way to the handle of her sword, which was, once again, tied safely around her waist.
Another set of footsteps coming cautiously down the hold's stairs made the pirate turn. The evil gleam left his eyes for a moment.
He pulled out his own sword; any intentions he'd previously had were gone.
Sarah whipped her blade out. It had been a long time since she'd used it. She hoped she wasn't too rusty.
As soon as the swords clashed, she instantly regretted her decision. Her opponent was strong and his blow sent pains shooting through her arm. Sarah realized that this intruder wasn't like Benjamin, he wasn't going to stop in fear of hurting her.
She focused only on defending herself, sweat beading on her forehead. This wouldn't last too much longer. Her strength was waning.
A metallic clang pierced the air.
Sarah looked up, barely hoping for a miracle.
Will and the pirate were at it, swords clashing and feet moving in some kind of rhythm. The small space that was the hold made dueling near impossible, but both participants were managing.
The blacksmith seemed to know what he was doing and quickly turned the ruffian around, effectively pinning him in a corner.
The British woman could only watch the scene in fascination. Will seemed so experienced and so sure of his actions. She definitely respected such talent.
Will flipped his opponent's blade over his head and stabbed him in the gut. A startled expression came over the man's face before dropping dead.
The young man immediately closed his eyes and inwardly cursed. The pirate may have known something important and now they'd never know. If he hadn't been defending the young woman, or focusing on getting his revenge, none of this would've happened.
Sarah moved towards the dead man.
"Who is he?" she decided to ask the obvious question.
Will shook his head.
"I believe I can answer that," another voice drawled.
The pair turned around and took in the face of none other than Captain Jack Sparrow.
Author's Note- Please review and let me know your thoughts, good and bad. I apologize if the characters were a little OOC, I haven't written them in a while. I'm trying not to make Sarah a Mary Sue. Am I succeeding? I'll see you guys when I see you. Thanks for reading!