Hey guys! It's nice to see you again you beautiful readers (well I can't see you but by your reviews I can tell you are sexy, sexy reviewers.) Please keep providing me with the sustenance that your reviews stand for. I need your words! –dies- I'm in a good mood, if you can't tell, and I think you should help me keep happy by reviewing like an amazing (sexy) person.
-Han
"My heart is pierced by Cupid; I disdain all glittering gold…"
The sad, drunken attempt at music reached Anna's ears before she was sure of what it was, casting her eyes behind her in an attempt to find the source of blubbering laughter and quaking voices weaving through the thick air around them. She pressed her lips together, deterring herself from singing with them, and adding her own abandonment to the mixture or rum and sea salt and smoke. A brief smile rose to her lips at the sight of the sailors, nearly falling over themselves with lust in their eyes and mugs in their hands and dirt caked on their faces. They seemed honest enough, Anna thought with something close to contempt.
"They're signin' up sailors right now," Teague said quietly, his voice pulling her back to some form of reality, where her ribs hurt and her head had finally stopped bleeding and her body was leaning towards Jack as if he gave her strength. The old Captain locked eyes with her, the blackness of his gaze yanking her down and pulling her under and water was pressing in on her head as she sunk down, pressure mounting, the need to breathe rising. Whatever he said next would be important, it would hold the significance of Divine Law, of a Goddess's words whispered on the wind, of ancient prophecy given slowly as if he knew he shouldn't give it all.
The pause carried on, and Anna leaned in, resting her forearms on the table in front of her with careful movements, her eyes caught in the older man's with an intensity Jack could only name as chilling. It sent shivers up his spine and left him reeling, that intense look was always something powerful.
"You are not the only one chasing the way to youth…from what I hear another pirate is out for it, and they won't let anyone get in the way," he paused, as if he had said something that carried tons of weight, the weight of the sea itself crashing down on her shoulders as Anna struggled to comprehend what he meant. "The Fountain will test you, mark my words."
She nodded, toasting him in time with Jack and drinking away any traces of her hesitancy. The impending adventure would require more of her than any other, of that she was sure. She just didn't know what was coming, what lay beyond the hazy rim of the horizon. She was sailing blind with no one but Jack beside her. But that would always be enough.
She turned back to the sailors singing, somehow knowing that Teague was leaving, slipping silently into the shadows and melting into the people like the survivor he was. She wished she could speak with him, really speak with him, learn something about the enigma he stood for, the mist that claimed Jack had a past, had a childhood. The thought was frightening and addicting all at once.
"There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold!"
Jack stood, offering his arm without bothering to glance behind him, his father was gone. He'd known it from the cryptic nature of his last words. Teague had always thrived on the same sense of the dramatic that Jack did. They were similar in that way, if not any other way. Their drunken sway was unique to them alone, their eccentric nature a bright sun in the darkness of their worlds. They were unique and the same.
But Anna had never treated him as if he was a copy of anyone else, as if his makeup directly related to the skin and the bones and the muscle on Edward Teague. She looked at him as if he was the only man like himself. He smiled, helping her stand and somehow knowing she could handle the movement.
"Bets?" she spoke suddenly, jarring him from his musings with a lightness in her voice that sounded distinctly false. Her eyes flicked to his quickly, and away just as fast, intent on her steps and the small wince walking drew from her lips.
"Depends on what we're bettin'," Jack said with a devilish grin, subtly allowing her to lean on him more, taking more of her light weight onto him.
"We're going to have to fight someone in the next five minutes," she said blandly, seeming to twinge at just the thought. He rolled his eyes, brushing a fond hand across her cheek.
"You worry far too much for someone as cunning as you, with someone as perfect as I," he joked, letting his gaze turn affectionate for a moment, a flicker she could hold onto. Affection was hard to come by in the world around them, and they didn't like to show weakness to those who could be enemies. But she seemed like she needed it.
"Two shillings," she said, pointedly ignoring him and holding up her two for bet. He sighed and nodded, showing his own. She gave an approving nod and allowed him to slip into the shadows, intent on the fat sailor who'd led the song. She stayed back, fingering her sword and swaying her hips as she walked towards him, as if she could be interested.
The silent way she and Jack split only made her sure of his trust, something that seemed so foreign, so ridiculous to insinuate, but it was there. She smiled, an invitation to the stuttering man in front of her and she wondered if she was really that beat looking, that dragged-through-the-streets kind of barely alive she felt. She wondered if he was disgusted, frightened by the dots of blood on her clothing and the smell of rum and sea water and sweat and Jack that she could never seem to be fully rid of.
Scrum had probably never seen a more beautiful woman, not since he'd turned fourteen and had seen his first whore on Tortuga, because her face will forever be imprinted into his mind as beautiful. But this woman wasn't caked-on, pinched-in, or pinned-up. She was a kind of wild free he didn't understand. Every inch of her seemed to have seen worlds he could only imagine, scrapes on her skin and jewelry adorning her wrists and neck. A sword hung on her hip, the only part of her that looked effectively polished until it shone like a diamond in the dingy bar. Her brown hair swirled around her face like waves on rocks, in disarray but somehow still beautiful. Her eyes were luminous, nearly captivating as she moved forward, leaning almost imperceptibly to the side, a hand resting flat against her ribs, over her corset. Her body seemed wiry, lean muscles only adding to the abrasive feminine nature of her body. She was more visually jarring than any prostitute he had seen, and she did it in a way he didn't quite understand. Like she was mist, never taking a form complete enough for him to ogle fully. She could be passed over on the street but once his eyes found her, it was hard to look away, like a siren calling him. She was fascinating and raw and untamable.
He leaned back in his chair, watching her move as if a dying man who had found heaven; enraptured. She dropped into the chair next to him with a mixture of elegance and roughness, her posture speaking of piracy and her eyes of a good soul.
"'Ello, love," he greeted before he knew what he was saying, leaning towards her as if she could tell him the meaning of life itself. As if she could lead him to the ends of the earth she seemed to know like the back of her hand.
"Hello yourself," she said amiably, her tone conversational and her speech wasn't as jarring as the other women, wasn't as ear-piercing. It wasn't musical like high society women, or throaty like wrung-out prostitutes. Her voice was like water over rocks, swirling around them with the coming tide, like the feeling of wind against his face in the early morning. "Who, might I ask, is recruiting for this fine venture?"
"That be Captain Jack Sparrow, fiercest pirate there ever was!" Scrum said excitedly, his fingers twitching with the promise of a grand venture. He paused when her eyes crumped in confusion, head tilting slightly in a fashion he found endearing.
"But what of his accompaniment? The Pirate Princess?" She asked, genuine confusion coloring her words as she spoke. Scrum paused, casting his mind back, knowing she should be right and coming up empty. He shrugged, having no answer, and swallowed uneasily when her soft smile turned nearly predatory. "And how could Sparrow be recruiting a crew, when I have only just left his side?"
"You claimin' our Cap'n to be an imposter?" Scrum asked before he could stop himself, an urge to be loyal taking hold of his body before he could stop it, pushing him to the edge of propriety. He hoped he wouldn't offend her.
"That be exactly what I'm claiming," she said, leaning forward just enough to keep his attention sharp on her while Jack slipped around. Scrum had a knife to his throat before he knew what it meant, before he could understand anything other than the way the hollow of her throat seemed to call him as she breathed.
"Do you have any idea who I am, mate?" Jack whispered dangerously in his ear, sending a wink at Anna over his shoulder as the woman sat up, pulling her top closer to her chin with nimble fingers. She stood slowly, her movements just stiff enough to indicate something was wrong, and her face passive enough to prove she could handle it.
"That is the one, and only Captain Jack Sparrow, and you should show him some respect," Anna hissed before Scrum could speak, intent on proving she could handle herself as something other than the object he clearly viewed her as. "You would do well to know who your Captain really is before you set sail. Morning light may shine on your slavery."
"Does that make you-" he cut himself off, remembering the viciousness of the stories. He'd heard that Jack and Anna had returned to Jack's favored Nassu Port, and robbed it blind, sending the city into a crippling economic depression, until men and women were forced to move away. Another story had him reeling at just the thought of the two against the Greek Goddess of chaos, trapped with their backs against the walls of the earth, with no way out but down. They crossed the veil more times than anyone could count, and they were most dangerous when they were together.
"Anna Windsor?" Jack finished for him, pressing his knife into Scrum's thick neck. The smaller man wheezed, craning his body away from the woman he now considered a viper, and the man he couldn't help but be afraid of. "And I don't think she's too pleased with these events. You see, neither of us likes to be stolen, but it appears your Captain failed to include her in the dossier. And that, mate, is an insult if I've ever heard one," Jack said in a way that made Scrum think the pirate was trying to help him, save him from the destructive force that was his partner in crime.
"Take it up wiv 'im!" Scrum pleaded, pointing behind himself to a shadow on the wall, his eyes wide and begging and nearing the edge of his own mental capacity, a breaking point in sight. When he felt the pressure of a sharp blade leave his skin, he breathed deeply, swallowing air like it was a lover he'd been reunited with, and was promising never to leave again. He collapsed into his chair, a hand on his heart and his eyes closing, the image of a beautiful face turning hostile burned into his mind.
The stories of their team had reached all edges of the earth, tales of who they bested and who they killed and who they spared reaching the eager ears of sailors who had thought the Princess long dead, and Jack long free. He wondered how close they were, in the cover of a midnight blacker than the hell's they had crossed into, the blanket of nigh hushing them and their minds. Maybe they were lovers. He chuckled half-heartedly, doubting it.
They seemed too comfortable, and the tales of Jack's inclinations were nearly as legendary as the man himself. Scrum doubted there was a woman in the world who didn't want him. He doubted the man could stand to have himself tied down at all.
Jack slipped his hand into Anna's as they disappeared into the back room, not bothering to cast a glance behind them as they melted into the shadows. He felt the returning pressure of her hand, her fingers twining with his briefly, just long enough to prove that she appreciated it. His eyes slid to hers, a soft smile on his lips that made her feel warm, like his touch was lighting fire through her veins and his gaze was helping it race along.
"I haven't forgotten you, love," Jack said, throwing her back to Scrum's dumbfounded expression when she made reference to herself. Her expression was a mixture between a scowl and smile. "How could I?" Jack asked himself, pretending to talk to himself and knowing it was causing her smile to grow. "You are the brightest star in the sky."
"You ought to watch what you say, birdie, or you'll throw your reputation to ruin," Anna whispered conspiringly, her eyes dancing with amusement as she spoke. He smiled, brushing a hand along her cheek.
"And we'd hate for that," Jack said in a hushed voice, an echo of his tone when he whispered to her in the barren prison that used to be her home, whispered poetry he meant. He was only a slave to two things; his own burning lust for freedom, and to her addicting presence. The longer he was around her the more he craved, shoving the two together until adventures became a part of her definition. He was as devoted to her as he ever could be to another human being. The only thing he cared for more was the sea.
"We should go in," Anna whispered, indicating the next door that would lead them to the storeroom, a piece of hair falling over her eye. Jack pushed it away, his hand shifting to cup her jaw and pull her in for a quick, scorching kiss that left her body reeling and her mind clawing at any concept of reality. She didn't have time to let herself fall into the throws of red flames and heated skin and patterns of moonlight on his chest.
When he pulled away from her, Jack turned sharply; leading her into the next room and pretending like his body wasn't aching, begging on its knees for her. He shook his head, his lips curving up in a half-smile at the thought. They hadn't done much more than fall asleep next to each other in the early hours of the morning, long nights of shared kisses and heat and soft words and trailing his lips down her neck, but he hadn't wanted to disrespect her. That was important, dizzyingly important to him.
It seemed necessary.
She had nuzzled to his chest, pressing her face against his heated skin and slipped away into her dreams and Jack was left knowing he made the right choice, ad proud of himself. Because he fell asleep frustrated, and woke up to her half-dressed and wound around him like he was the only thing keeping her from drowning. And his fingers would draw lazy patterns on her shoulder, and when her cerulean eyes would open to the world, he would pretend he could see the Caribbean Sea reflected in them. Maybe he could. And Anna would smile softly, reaching up to press her lips against his, and whisper sweet nothings that meant so much more than nothing.
He shuddered to think of what his crew would say if they knew.
Anna pulled her hand form his, dropping it to her sword and pulling it free, her eyes set on the shadowed figure in front of them. Jack had barely realized they'd fully stepped into the room. He raised his own sword, staring at the copy of himself with distaste and something close to disgust.
"You've stolen me, and I'm here to take meself back," Jack announced shortly, his voice more biting than Anna had heard in a while, the cool edge driving shivers down her spine and she had to remind herself that she wasn't talking to her.
The figure's sword raised, glinting in the half-light of candles and yellow flames. Anna's eyes narrowed on the nearly feminine tilt of his head and of his hips. Jack didn't stand that way, he was masculine to nearly a fault. But this imposter bordered on girly. She rolled her eyes, wondering how long all of this would take. She wanted to get busy stopping her father from gaining eternal life.
"Well Jack," she said as if exasperated, her sword raised and at the ready, adrenaline already pumping through her system, necessary if she wasn't going to drop dead. Her wounds hurt but she barely felt them, the energy between her and Jack made it hard to feel anything but excitement and her own blood rushing through her veins. "Shall we?"
