a.n. Well, I received some good reviews on the last part asking me to continue, so I decided to make my reviewers happy and make this into the three-shot I said I would. So, thank you to all of you who reviewed the last chapter. This is Part II and Part III will follow sometime, hopefully soon, but I can't make any promises. By the way, I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, names, places, etc. or anything else that seems familiar. All of it is owned by Disney and Jerry Bruckheimer and Gore Verbinski and everyone else associated with the movies. Not me and I am makin no money off of this whatsoever. That being said, please Read, Review, and Enjoy!
Part II: Memories
It is close. I can feel it. The time is near. After so many years, the moment is upon us.
My son has been my source of comfort, my source of strength these many years. The one piece of the other half of my soul that I still have left. The times were tough and I, a single mother, trying to make my way in the world with my young child at my side. It has been a life unlike any I had ever known before. Such a different existence was now laid out before me and I have survived through it all, all while my teaching my son about life and being himself
I can see my son through the tall grass ahead of me, humming to himself a song he has heard me song a thousand times before. A song that brings back many memories, past and present.
I remember my father, the caring, gentle soul that he was. How noble he was and how kind-hearted he was towards others. He may have been a Governor, but at times he seemed almost to be one of the common folk, for he cared for all citizens of Port Royal, nobles and commoners alike. He had a just mind and a tender heart and could be just as fun-loving as he was serious. He worked hard to make the lives of the people of Port Royal as meaningful as possible, but he worked even harder to make my life the best that he could, something I have tried to do with my own son. I have tried to emulate my father in everything I do for my son, and though I miss him dearly, I know he would be proud of me and the example I have tried to set for my son, for he was the one to set the example for me.
My son is wandering off again, though I make sure to keep him in my line of sight. He has that adventurous, daring, roguish, generally endearing, spirit that I have seen quite a bit of in my life.
Jack Sparrow was a man I have had the not-always-so-pleasurable experience in meeting. He is a rogue and pirate and plays by his own rules, but he also has a kind heart and is loyal to his crew and those he considers his friends. He may occasionally put others in danger, but he always manages to somehow find a way to get them out of it, gaining some profit for himself along the way. He has saved my life, and that of my husband, numerous times, although is the one that usually put us in danger in the first place. Though I have had my share of arguments with him, namely when I tried to kill him, I know that he would do anything for me and my family. And for that, I am truly grateful to have met him.
A gentle breeze picks up and gently whispers through my hair. I see my son stop at the edge of the cliff and look out across the azure ocean, watching the horizon stretch before him.
I have wonderful memories of my soul mate, my lover, my other half, my husband. Of our first meeting as young children. Of our childhood growing up together. Of our first adventure together and realizing our true love for each other. I remember our separation as he went looking for Jack, and our coming back together some time later. I remember the tension between us after Jack's 'death' and the struggles we faced after finding him again. Fighting alongside each other as we fought both the East India Trading Company and the Flying Dutchman and realizing, once again, that we were made for each other. That quick marriage ceremony aboard the Black Pearl was more wonderful than any high-class, formal, extravagant wedding that I could ever dream about. We were finally together as one, in heart and soul, later in body, and we would forever be husband and wife. Though later circumstances managed to tear us apart once more, I knew deep down that we would once again be reunited, for just as he gave me his heart, he has always had mine and would return, for no one can live without their heart.
I come up next to my son and put my arm around his shoulder. Both of us have our eyes on the horizon and the slowly setting sun. In the depths of my soul, I know that the time is near. I gently squeeze my son's shoulder as the sun finishes its descent and a green light flashes in front of my face. It has happened, just as the old pirate legends have said. A dark outline begins to take shape, which soon morphs into a ship. I tense as I recognize a figure high in the ship's rigging. His dark locks are the same as ever and his deep, piercing gaze captures my soul, just as it always has. I can sense my son looking up at me and turn my gaze towards him. My smile widens as I lean down to hug my son and brush his hair away from his face.
"There he is, William," I tell him, "He has come back to us."
I turn my face towards the rapidly approaching ship and my gaze locks on that figure hanging to the mast. I have waited all this time for this very moment and my faithfulness has been rewarded. William Turner, my husband, my lover, my other half, my life, has finally come back to me.