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A Gilded Cage	By : SaMe Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 1949 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 13
- 14
A Gilded Cage: Sequel to Broken Wings, Part II of the Fallen
Sparrows Trilogy

A Pirates of the Caribbean
story by Merrie

Disclaimer: Jack, Norry, Liz,
Lorelac, Barbossa and all others own me. I would never attempt to claim
otherwise.

Summary: As a battle is waged for Jack�s soul by all the
angels of heaven and all the demons in hell with Barbossa as their warrior,
will our Sparrow be able to see a way out of the gilded cage that surrounds him
before all is lost?

Characters: Captain Jack Sparrow, Chief James Norrington,
Elizabeth Swann, Magistrate Richard Donnellson, Hector Barbossa, Lorelac and
various others.

Author�s Note: I
haven�t forgotten about this story, nor will I ever. I�m sorry this took so
long to get up. I don�t really have a good excuse, so here�s the chapter.

Rating: R for violence and language.

Chapter 13: Horrors and Histories

Thorneheart, England 1678

Black. It had to be black. He
wasn�t entirely sure about the rest of it, but he knew it had to be black. Black as the devil�s heart. Black as the
space behind the stars. Black wood, black sails, black everything. He
didn�t have a crew, he didn�t have a name, but he knew what he wanted his ship
to be. Black. It has to be black. Something
to terrorise men�s souls. Something
out of a nightmare. Jack stared out over the rolling waves and
imagined his dark beauty prowling on them, swiftly and easily pouncing upon her
prey, leaving no survivors in her path. She�s
got to be the fastest ship in the sea. She will be the fastest ship in the sea.

�Sir? Sir?�
A withered old man�s voice cut into his dark musings like a rusty and dull
blade. Jack turned to him but didn�t speak. The wizened man was blind and while
Jack might have tried to have a bit of fun with him, the man�s ears were impeccable
and could sense his every movement. �Have you decided, sir?�

Jack nodded, not bothering to say yes. Annoyed that his fun
had been thwarted by the man�s exceptional hearing, Jack was determined to get
his kicks in in whatever manner he could. The old man
seemed undaunted by this which only served to irritate Jack further. He would
have just killed him had he not been so good at what he did.

�Very good, sir. And?� the man
prompted.

�Black,� Jack growled grudgingly.

�Black?� the man asked with a raised eyebrow over one
white-filmed blue eye.

�Everything. I want everything
black. Even the sails. And she has to be fast,� Jack
said sternly.

�Oh I assure you, Captain. She will be fast. I don�t design slow ships.�

Jack�s eyes narrowed into dark slits. He did not like being
second guessed. Especially when he was making recommendations
about his ship. �She will be
the fastest ship you�ve ever built, nay the fastest ship anyone has ever built or you�ll regain your sight in hell after I
send you there.�

Balthazar Curtail had been blind for many years, but not as
long as he had lived. He had seen things in this world that he would never
forget. Now that he was blind those long-ago images crystallised within his
mind to an unbelievably clear clarity that allowed him to continue his work
relatively unaided. He could envision every detail within the ship he was
designing as if he were looking at it. More often than not, he could do the
same with the ship�s owner as well. The way a man designed a ship gave much
insight into his character to those who knew how to look for such things, and
Balthazar knew. He had always known. When he was a younger man with two working
eyes he would sometimes be able to guess just what kind of ship he would be
asked to build just from the captain�s appearance and personality. Those days
were gone now but still fresh in his mind. He was no longer able to see what
types of men he was working for, so he had to rely on their orders. The man he
was dealing with now-Captain Sparrow he introduced himself as-was not a man to
be taken lightly. He was a man who valued power and presence above all else and
would do anything to have these desires realised.

�You�re ship will be as you have ordered, Captain,� he said,
trying not to sound as meek and frightened as he felt, but not quite managing
it. Something in the man�s voice unsettled him. It wasn�t the threat-he had
heard worse in his time-it was the way he said it. It was the way there was no
hint of doubt in his voice that belied his intentions. He really would go
through with his threat if not well satisfied that his orders were being
completed. He is a pirate. You should not
be dealing with him. He will only bring you trouble. His conscience warned
him. He wanted to listen, but he found he could not say no to this man. He was
completely convinced that if he did his life would soon be forfeit.

Jack nodded; glad the old man hobbled over before him wasn�t
doing something that would force him to be killed. There were far too few good shipsmiths around to go killing them left and right. And
the real fear he heard in the old man�s voice made him smile coldly. At least he�s smart. He should fear me.

�And�does this ship have a name, Captain? I would like to
know what to call her as I�m building her. That is�if you don�t mind, I mean,�
the man hastened to add.

Jack allowed himself the luxury of a frown since he knew the
old man�s filmy eyes couldn�t make it out. The truth was,
he hadn�t come up with anything yet. Well anything besides the black part. The Black Death? It certainly has the sense of looming doom,
but no, not enough grace. I need a name that will inspire both fear and deadly
beauty at the same time. But what?

�Captain?� Balthazar prompted
gently, thinking Jack hadn�t heard.

Jack scowled. He hated being rushed. �The
Black�.Pearl.�

WWW

�You�re out of your bloody mind! Get the hell away from me!�
Norrington yelled, backing warily across the sand away from his right-hand man
and interpreter, Kiquan.

�Chief, it must be this way. It is the way of our people. It
is the way of our chief. You are our chief,� Kiquan insisted with a resigned
sigh, moving closer towards his skittish chief.

�I don�t care who I bloody am! I�m not doing it!� Norrington
asserted.

�Honestly, mate. It�s not that bad. I�ve survived quite a
few of them myself,� Jack spoke up silently with a shrug. His speech had almost
regained its playfulness but there was a tightness
around his eyes and tension in his shoulders that belied his real mood.

�I say if James doesn�t want to through with it he shouldn�t
have to,� Elizabeth ventured softly, not quite as depressed-looking as Jack
was, but not by much.

�Exactly, and as your chief I�m telling you not to do this.
Back away from me with that needle, you savage! Back!�
Norrington commanded.

Kiquan�s sighs turned into laughter and the growing group of
villagers that surrounded them joined in. �Chief, you are quite amusing, but
this is what must be done. You are our chief, and this is our tradition.� He
moved in as close as Norrington would allow while he kept the needle and pot of
in his hands, whispering. �I do not think it wise for you to go against this,
my chief. There are few still who do not accept your leadership. They see your
hesitance in this act as a form of cowardice. You do understand?�

Norrington gritted his teeth, but he nodded. He did
understand. He understood the concept of not blinking in the face of danger; of
not flinching beneath your enemy�s gaze. And it was only a tattoo for god�s
sake. It wasn�t the end of the world. But�it some ways, it was. This was it. If
he did this, if he let himself be marked as their chief permanently, then his
old life was really over. His days in the military would truly be at an end. He
had hoped-it was a small hope but he had it none the less-that one day he might
be able to go back there. That one day he might be able to regain what had been
taken from him. He couldn�t live as a civilian any more than Jack could stop
being a pirate. But unlike Jack, he lacked the luxury of choice. He could not
simply choose to go back to the Navy simply because he wanted to. That door was
closed to him now. He had to admit that to himself or he would never be able to
move on. He saw that, but he didn�t like it. He didn�t want to move on. He wanted
to go back to where he was. Before everything had changed.
And yet� And yet. As he
looked across the expectant faces of the people in the village, his people, he couldn�t help but feel
pride in knowing that he was their leader. That they looked
to him-a foreigner, a stranger-for
guidance and wisdom. That�he still couldn�t fully understand that.

�James? James are you alright?�
Elizabeth�s soft voice broke into his thoughts. �You truly don�t have to get a
tattoo if you don�t want to. No one is going to force you into anything. I
won�t let them.�

Norrington almost smiled to hear a glimpse of her fire
again. �I�m fine, Elizabeth. I was just thinking.�

�Well are you going to get the tattoo or not, mate? Because
honestly, there are better things that I could be doing right now than staying
to watch this,� Jack cut in.

Kiquan and the rest of the village looked at Norrington
expectantly, many with hope in their eyes that somehow this would be the one
thing that truly bound this pale foreigner to them, and others not hiding their
antagonism that such a thing should ever be allowed to take place. Norrington
took note of those watchers, knowing he would either have to win them over or
fight them one day. He couldn�t afford detractors, nor would he put up with
them. This was all he had left. He had accepted that now. He didn�t fully like
it-he never would-but these were his
people. They had been from the beginning. Why else would he have fought for
them? Why else would he have given up all he had known in Port Royal
for their safety? He wouldn�t have. Not if he didn�t care for them.

Kiquan must have seen some of what Norrington was thinking
pass across his features because he nodded and turned to some of the most
outspoken detractors. �He will do this for us. He will become our chief in body
as well as spirit.�

The cheer that erupted from the gathered crowd was nothing
short of ground shaking. Norrington couldn�t help but gasp at the sheer force
of it, not fully knowing until now the full impact this gesture had on the
people of his island. �Yes. I�ll do it. You have my word as�as your chief.� He
tried not to sound as nervous as he felt, but he must not have been entirely
successful for Elizabeth rose from
her seat on a swollen log and walked over to pat his arm and give him a quick
kiss on the cheek. Norrington felt his face colouring and couldn�t help but
ask, �What was that for, Elizabeth?�

�For doing the right thing, James.
I�m proud of you,� she whispered with a small smile.

�Don�t be too sure of him yet, Lizzie. He still has to get
the tattoo,� Jack murmured, looking down at his tattoo-covered hand and arm,
clearly envisioning all the evil it had brought them. It would remain for the
rest of his life as a grim reminder of what he had done. It made him want to
rip his skin off.

�Jack,� Elizabeth
called out softly, moving to stand at his side while he sat in the sand with
Norrington following at her elbow as if attached. �It wasn�t your fault.� The
weight of her statement clearly belied that she was talking about more than one
occurrence. But what? Her rape?
The murder of her fianc�? It was all
his fault.

�Thanks for sayin�, Lizzie, but I
don�t believe you. It was my fault. All of it.�

�How can you say that? How can you even think it? You were
not yourself, Jack. You were possessed by a demon!� Her voice came out in a
harsh hiss, but she wasn�t really angry with him. She was angry at Lorelac and
the suffering he had caused them. Her rape�Will�s murder� Norrington�s hand�
She blinked back tears. Not to mention
the loss of Jack�s crew. That�s what started this mess. And god, he had to bury
them all. She wanted to feel more sympathy for Jack because of that, but
her own grief made it hard. Her fianc� was dead and while she was pregnant they
would never be Will�s children. Will was gone. The realisation no longer
brought tears, just a sick hollow in her chest that used to be filled with his
love. She couldn�t do this without him. How could she have ever thought
otherwise? People said she was strong; that she knew how to look after herself.
Well even the strong need someone to hold them up sometimes, and who did she
have? Will was gone.

�Elizabeth? Are
you alright?� Norrington asked softly, seeing her distress. �Forgive me. It was
a foolish question. Of course you�re not. I am sorry.�

Elizabeth shook her head at the question, softly surprised.
It was as if he had been hearing her thoughts. James had always been there for
her. How had she forgotten? He loved her. He always had. �No. It wasn�t a
foolish question, James,� she assured him quietly. �Thank you.� Norrington
inclined his head in a nod and she went on. �I�m�surviving,� she said softly.
�I think it�s all I can do, really. It�s only been a few weeks since he�s gone
I know, but I still find myself looking for his figure along the shoreline. I
still expect to wake up to find he�s left flowers outside my door. I miss him,
James. And yet, I haven�t quite let myself believe that he�s really gone.�

Norrington frowned and held out a hand to pat her shoulder
gently in a silent gesture of comfort. He would have offered more, he would
have offered her anything, but it wouldn�t have been right. She knew this as
well as he did which was why he was so surprised when she pressed herself
against him, burying her head beneath his chin and wrapping her arms around his
waist. He made a soft sound of surprise before giving into the hug, looking
over the top of her head to meet Jack�s eyes. The look that passed between them
was weighted, although no words were spoken. He could see Jack�s anguish in
watching this; he knew it was as sharp and bright as Elizabeth�s was. And yet
while Elizabeth was hopefully able to find a small measure of comfort in his
arms, Jack would never find the same. He would bear his sins alone. Norrington
understood that because it was what he would have done had he been in Jack�s
place.

�It will be alright, Elizabeth,� Norrington whispered to
her, awkwardly wrapping his arms around her in continuation of the embrace. If
this was what she needed from him, then he wouldn�t deny it to her. �I know it
doesn�t seem that way now, but it will be. It�s only natural to miss Will. You
loved him. But he is with you, Elizabeth. And he always will be.�

Elizabeth nodded into Norrington�s chest, not able to stop
her tears. She was so tired of being strong. She was so tired of pitying looks
the women in the village gave her as she passed. The looks would be worse now
of course, but she didn�t care. She had missed the comfort only a man could
bring. Oh how she wished those arms holding her tightly could have been Will�s. She wished that with all her heart. But they
weren�t. She wasn�t na�ve. She knew in whose arms she took comfort. She didn�t
close her eyes and dream that it was Will who held her close. She knew better, and
she would not use Norrington in that way. He didn�t deserve it. So she pulled
away from him, looking up and giving him a watery smile as she tried to collect
herself again. �Thank you.� She looked down when he smiled and saw that she had
left a rather large wet spot on the front of his shirt. �Oh I�m sorry, James. I
didn�t mean to cry all over your shirt. I was just being foolish��

�No you weren�t,� Norrington interrupted her gently. �You
have every right to feel grief for your loss, Elizabeth. No one would think ill
of you if you missed him.�

�I do miss him, James. I miss him every day,� she admitted
softly.

Jack had been listening to the exchange in silence, not
daring to interrupt. Especially when he was the cause for all
of Elizabeth�s grief. He had killed Will. He had taken him from her
side. He had destroyed her happiness in more ways that one. He had burdened her
with a child and then killed the one man who would have stood by her side and
married her in spite of everything. Why
doesn�t she hate me? Why hasn�t she killed me? Jack had no answers for
those questions. He himself had killed men for fewer affronts than the ones he
had afflicted on her. He didn�t understand it. He couldn�t understand how she
could forgive him so easily. He couldn�t fathom how she gained the strength to
go on.

�That is to be expected, Elizabeth,� Norrington assured her
with a small smile. �I know you miss him. We all miss him. He was an honest man
and a good friend. We were all fortunate to have known him.�

�You are talking about your fallen friend, Mr. Turner,
correct?� Kiquan interjected gracefully. He continued after Norrington and
Elizabeth had nodded. �He was a good man. There was much light in his path.� He
sent a surreptitious glance in Jack�s direction. �Some have more light than
others.�

If Jack had heard the comment at least in part directed to
him, he gave no sign. He simply sat and started off into the distance, his
hands clasped upon his lap, his fingers toying idly with his rings. He didn�t
seem to be hearing any of them, but none of them had any doubt that he had
heard every word they had been saying. That didn�t seem to be the case now as
his eyes glazed over and he was lost to his memories.

WWW

Thorneheart, England 1679

It had taken a year and much blood and sweat but ship was
finally finished. The Black Pearl was finally finished. And all saints in
heaven, she was beautiful. Her black sails billowed in the wind majestically,
and Jack knew just by looking at her that his life would forever be entwined
with that of this ship. His blood would be spilled upon her deck; his breath
would float up to her sails. She was his and he was hers. She would never
belong to another man.

�She�s a beautiful ship,� a voice interrupted in on Jack�s
thoughts. �Is she yours or do you just wish she was?�

Jack turned to the man who had dared doubt that the Pearl
was anyone�s but his and sent him a scathing look, not bothering to comment.

�I take she�s yours then. What do you call her?� the man
asked roughly, casting his eyes upon the Pearl with something akin to lust.
Jack didn�t like it.

�The Black Pearl,� he said in clipped tones, not wanting to
talk to this intrusive man any longer than necessary.

�The Black Pearl,� the man repeated slowly, savouring the
name as if it were a decadent sweet. �And who are you lad to be captain of such
a ship?�

Jack sent a seething glare in the man�s direction, disliking
him immediately, and not only for the �lad� quip, although that was a large
part of it. There was just something about this man that sent a prickle of
malcontent up his spine. And yet, there was something intriguing about the man
as well; something that stayed Jack�s sword from finding a sheath in the
stranger�s flesh. �My name is Captain Jack Sparrow.�

�I�ve never heard of you.� Jack reconsidered running the man
through. �But I haven�t been a pirate for very long so I suppose you could say
that is a slight on me.�

Jack grunted. He might have asked how the man knew that he
was a pirate, but he wasn�t an idiot. He knew how he looked. He knew that only
the dimmest of fools would take him for anything but what he was. �You never
told me your name, mate,� he pointed out.

The stranger bowed. �How rude of me.
My name is Barbossa. Hector Barbossa. I�m here to join your crew.�

�And what makes you think I want you on my crew? Or even
that I�m looking for one?� Jack asked with a smirk. He couldn�t help but admire
the man�s arrogance.

�You�re in a port known for its ship building, you�re
standing there looking her as if she�s your firstborn, and I don�t happen to
notice anyone looking at her with you. Such a beauty clearly deserves some
appreciation and yet only we two men are giving her any. It�s a shame. And you
need a crew.�

Jack shrugged. The man had a point. A good point. He did need a crew. He had some idea of who
he could ask-men who had left the �Knuckles when he had-but beyond that he was
without men.

�Then that settles it. You�ll be captain and I�ll be first
mate. We�ll gain riches neither of us has ever dreamed of before,� Barbossa
said with a greedy gleam in his eye which Jack appreciated. It was good to have
a man with ambition. Such men could be used and controlled as long as you had
what they wanted.

�So be it. Welcome to the Black Pearl Mr. Barbossa.�

WWW

Thorneheart, England 1679

It had been a year. A year spent without his wife, without
his son, without his daughter. A year spent chasing someone who may not even
exist. At first he had been so sure; so certain that the man he pursued was
Edward John Corentin Alexandre Sperling himself, his brother-in-law, a man who
was supposed to be nothing more than a ghost.

His green eyes grew hard as he surveyed the port. Edward had
to be here. He had tracked his brother-in-law across the seas long enough to
know them as well as many of the hardened sailors he had put into irons back
home. He had heard the rumours, rumours of a pirate captain fitting Edward�s
description. A man by the name of Captain John Pardal.
At first, Richard hadn�t wanted to believe it. This man Pardal was a monster.
The man he had met when he had first started courting Eva was a bookish shy
scholar. He was no ruthless pirate.

�Are you looking for some company, darling?� A sultry voice
interrupted his reveries.

Richard whirled at the voice, not able to hide his disgust
as his eyes were assaulted by a lady of the night-a whore-in broad daylight. In his
city such a thing would have never been stood for. The people were decent
there. The whores knew their place and stayed there. Order was upheld. He had
been about to tell her off when he remembered his role. He was not Magistrate
Donnellson here. He was a simple merchant searching for a friend. He had done
everything he could to change his appearance to suit this new role-his skin was
dirty, he was fairly sure he reeked of the sweat of men and his red beard was
left to grow wild and scruff over his dirty face-but the man he was still
screamed beneath the surface to be realised.

�From such a lovely lass as yourself
a man is always looking for company.� Betrayal. What
of his darling Eva? �But I�m afraid I must decline this time. I am looking for
someone and I fear I shall miss him if I allow myself to indulge in
such�pleasures.�

�Oh? And who�s that, I wonder? Someone I might know?� the
whore asked, seeming undaunted by the fact that he wasn�t interested. He knew
she must have a list of other �clients� as long as the entire line of ships he
saw moored in the port.

Richard frowned, his better nature prickling at the thought
of getting information from such a person, but he nodded. Beggars couldn�t be
choosers and he had already been away from his wife and children for far too
long. He had wanted to stop this little �quest� months ago, but something
wouldn�t let him. If he was being honest with himself, it had become an
obsession. He had become obsessed with finding out what had happened to his
brother-in-law. At first he had been saddened for his wife and mother-in-law�s
sake, but he had never truly grieved as they had for Edward because in truth he
had never really known him. Edward had always kept to himself, preferring the
company of a book to that of other people. This was what made the stories he
had heard about him even harder to believe.

At first he hadn�t known where to begin. No one had heard of
any man called Edward Sperling or even John Sperling-Richard had remembered how
Edward hated being called by his first name-but their were rumours. Rumours
that around the time of Edward�s supposed death there had been a new member of
the crew of the Hangman�s Knuckles. That had been one of the first things he
had striven to find out; what ship was responsible for attacking The Intrepid
and supposedly killing Edward. It hadn�t been too difficult a fact to come
across. Apparently the crew of the ship had no such qualms about sharing every
ill deed they had ever achieved to anyone who might be listening and often
times to those who might not.

�I can�t help you find who you�re looking for if you won�t
tell me their name, dearie,� the prostitute reminded
him gently.

He winced at the grating sound of her voice. This was a
mistake. He shouldn�t be talking to her. He should be putting her in the
stockade. �Nevermind. You probably wouldn�t know him
anyway.�

�You�d be surprised at who I know. I could get to know you
if only you would tell me who you�re looking for,� she drawled, moving a hand
over his chest in a manner that was probably aimed to be seductive and yet only
filled him with disgust. If the whore noticed she gave no sign.

Richard gritted his teeth but told himself to stop being
foolish. If she could get him information on ending his search then why
shouldn�t he use her? �I�m looking for a member of the pirate ship The
Hangman�s Knuckles.� The streetwalker stiffened at the name but nodded for him
to go on. �I�ve heard rumours that the former captain of that ship was last
seen in this port. I need to talk to him.�

�Let me get this straight, you actually want to talk to Captain John Pardal and you somehow think you�ll
come out alive afterwards? You�re not as intelligent as you look, hon. No man
who has ever sought out that crazy bastard has lived to tell the tale.�

�Captain Pardal? That�s the former
captain�s name?� It had been the first time he had ever heard his actual name
mentioned. Every man he had ever talked to about the pirate captain had claimed
he was some sort of demon sent straight from hell to devour the earth. He had
never heard him referred as a flesh and blood man before.

�Yeah. That�s his name. He must be
a Spaniard with a name like that. They say Spaniards are all hot-blooded madmen
anyway.�

�Why do you say that? About him being a Spaniard I mean?�
Richard asked curiously, hoping that he might be able to glean more information
about the man he sought.

�I had a Spaniard for a client once. He taught me some of
his native language. If I remember correctly, pardal means sparrow.�

Pardal means sparrow.
Pardal is Sparrow. Sparrow is Sperling. Oh god. It can�t be. �Are you
certain?� he asked harsher than he had intended. She has to be wrong. I have to be wrong. Edward is dead. It wasn�t him
at the docks that day. It couldn�t have been. Richard knew he was lying to
himself, he had heard the very words, �Edward
is dead, Richard. He has been since he left this accursed place,� echoing
through his mind.

�Are you alright? Pardal didn�t do something to you and
yours did he? If he did I suggest you forget about it. I believe the stories
I�ve heard about him and if I were you I�d stay far away.� She turned to leave but Richard reached out to
grab her arm, preventing her from making it but a few steps. �You have no call
to treat me like that!� she hissed at him. �Now I�ve helped you. You can either
let me go or you�ll find this--� she produced a small dagger seemingly out of
nowhere and held it between Richard�s legs-�somewhere unpleasant. Do you
understand me, hon?�

�Tell me where to find Captain Pardal and you�re free to go
on your way,� Richard reasoned with her. �That�s all I want.�

The whore�s grey eyes flashed at him, and for a brief second
he was sure she wasn�t going to tell him anything despite his plea and/or go
through with her threat. He tried not to flinch as her hand twitched minutely
between his legs, but couldn�t help himself. They were
at an impasse. He wasn�t so disgusted with her profession that he would sink to
the level of hitting a woman but he needed the information she clearly had.
�Please,� he added through gritted teeth, a muscle in his jaw clenching in
frustration that it had come to this.

She looked at him a minute longer but pulled the dagger away
from its place between his legs and returned it to wherever she had gotten it
from. Richard didn�t look to see where; he truly did not want t know. �The
Crimson King,� she said after he had released her arm in turn.

�What is that? Is it an inn? How do I get there?�

�If anyone knows where to find Captain Pardal, he�d be
there. I still say you�re a fool who�s only going to
get himself killed for asking about that man, but you�re not a paying customer
and I don�t care about you.� The look of mild concern held on her face belied
her words. �The Crimson King is the red roofed building straight that way.� She
pointed. �Don�t get yourself killed.� With that she turned on a heel and left
him to his search.

WWW

�Why on earth would anyone
get a tattoo? The things are damned painful!� Norrington complained for what
seemed like the tenth time, his arm reaching around to itch at the cloth that
been wrapped around his back and shoulder over the fresh tattoo he had just
gotten. �And I can�t even see what it bloody looks like! What is the point?�

�It makes you look very distinguished, my chief. Only our
leaders have such markings. You are highly honoured.� Kiquan turned and bowed
to the men who had given Norrington the tattoo, murmured a few words in their
native language before dismissing them. Norrington still hadn�t quite mastered
every bit of the decidedly complicated island language, but he thought that
Kiquan was thanking the two men for their loyalty. Before he could ask what the
men had actually said, Kiquan spoke again. �I did not ask them to give you
these markings. I told them to give you whatever they saw fit to honour you
with. And they did honour you, my chief. You are their leader now. They will
follow you to the Kourikan Plane if you asked them.�

�I see,� Norrington said dully, not knowing what to say to
that. He could tell from the way Kiquan�s eyes were deadly serious behind his
small spectacles that this was indeed a great honour, and he should treat it as
such. �I am honoured, Kiquan. And if you say it makes me look�distinguished
then I�ll believe you.�

Kiquan bowed again. �I will leave you to complete this gift,
my chief. Should you need anything I won�t be far.�
With that, he turned and walked back to his hut, presumably.

Once Kiquan was gone, Norrington turned to Jack and
Elizabeth and frowned. �Be as honest as you must. What does it look like?�

�I think it suits you, mate. Makes you look less of the ponce you once were,� Jack teased although his eyes were devoid
of humour.

Norrington just grunted, although he somehow managed to make
the gesture seem dignified and sophisticated. �While I thank you for your
opinion Jack, that was not what I asked. I asked what it looks like. I can�t
see but what�s on my shoulder, and I know that�s not all of it.� From what
Norrington saw of his shoulder before the men had covered it up with strips of
wet cloth, the tattoo was similar to that of Jack�s. The one had had from
Lorelac, that is. It was a series of twisting black lines that knotted
themselves into something so complicated his eyes couldn�t separate it. But
unlike Jack�s which went down his entire arms to the tips of his middle
fingers, Norrington knew his wrapped around his back and over his shoulder
blade. He knew that much from feeling it.

�It�s as if you have a wing made out of black vines etched
across your shoulder blade moving down your back, James. Kiquan was right. It
does make you look distinguished. And�exotic,� Elizabeth said softly. �Like you belong to them now.�

Norrington raised an eyebrow, making a point of glancing at
his still too-pale skin. He had always been fair, and except for the occasional
sun burn leaving him as red as his former military uniform, he had always been
that way.

Elizabeth shook her head gently, catching the meaning behind
his look. �You obviously haven�t seen yourself. And I�m not talking about the
tattoo or your still fair skin. You�ve changed, James. This place has changed
you. It�s still changing you.�

Norrington gave her a puzzled frown. �How do you mean?�

�You�ve gone native on us, mate. You�re no Englishman any
longer. You�re one of them now,� Jack said with a shrug. He didn�t really care.
There were worse things to be. Even if Norrington�s people
were so-called children of that bastard Lorelac.

�I was never an Englishman,� Norrington murmured. �I was
born in Port Royal.�

�And now you�re never going to go back there. Are you,
mate?� Jack asked him curiously.

�I have nothing to go back to,� Norrington said somberly. �But�but
I don�t know if I�m going to stay here either,� he said in a low voice, not
wanting to be overheard by the members of the village. �I miss the sea, Jack.
I�m sure you of all people understand that.�

�The sea is all I have left,� Jack murmured distantly,
looking down at his tattooed hand. If it had been night instead of the middle
of the day, he would have been seeing his own bones as clear as day. He saw
them now in his nightmares even without the aid of the moonlight.

�The sea is all any of us has left,� Elizabeth answered. But
that wasn�t entirely true. Not for her, at least. She still had her father and
Jack still had his ship. James had his people. But he was right. Port Royal
wasn�t there�s anymore. Their home had been lost to them.

WWW

Port Royal

The city was in flames. The pirates had gotten loose and had
practically ravaged the prosperous port, killing anyone who got in their way
without consideration or hesitation. The military had tried to stop them, but
how could one stop someone who couldn�t be killed? Many men had shot the
ravaging pirates, and yet none of them had stayed dead. They were surely
demons. Port Royal had finally been met with God�s wrath.
They had been fighting valiantly under the newly promoted
Commodore Groves regardless, for what else could they do, but they were
fighting a losing battle. And what was more, they knew it.

�Commodore sir, we must get these pirates out of our city!�
One of the few remaining officers pleaded. �You know as well as I do that they
have been touched by the devil himself and cursed to live eternally. We cannot
stop them! They are destroying our city! The governor has already fled along
with the admiral. There is no one left but what few men we have left and the
townspeople who haven�t fled in terror, sir. We must give the pirates what they
want! It is our only hope of survival!� The officer�s wig was tattered and
blackened by smoke and gunpowder, and his once pristine uniform torn and
wrinkled, his life was surely at risk, and yet he had stayed. He knew, as
Commodore Groves himself knew, that to flee the city was to abandon it forever
to the raging pirates. That was unacceptable.

�We can�t give them what they want, Kent. You know we
can�t,� Commodore Groves said tiredly. They were in a lull of battle for time
being, but neither man had any delusion that it would last.

�Sir, Theodore, they cannot be killed. We cannot beat them,�
the officer said softly. He was no longer pleading though. Although Theodore
Groves hadn�t been Commodore long-only since they had discovered the former
Commodore Gillette murdered in his own office-he had made his policies and
attitudes clear. He would not abandon this fight no matter the cost.

�Better we die protecting our city than to sell it to these
brigands,� Groves said between clenched teeth. �I will not surrender, Thomas.
You know I won�t.�

�I know you won�t, sir. But I had to try,� Captain Thomas
Kent said softly. There was dejection and hopelessness in his voice, but when
he raised his eyes to meet Grove�s, his gaze was clear and determined. He would
stand and fight. �My place is at your side, sir. We will protect Port Royal
with our lives if need be.�

�Good,� Groves said with a nod, clapping the other man on
the shoulder. �You�re a good man, Kent. It will be an honour to die with you.�

Kent gave a small smile at that. �Let�s fight first, Commodore.
We can worry about the dying later.�

�Very true. And one never knows.
Perhaps today is not our day to die. Port Royal has survived worse, and it will
continue to survive. It was built upon soil rich with good men�s blood and
maybe the earth is sated today. We will see. God be with us, but we will see.�

The two men shared one last look before starting the charge,
not knowing whether they would live or die, and yet willing to give everything
to their city. Should the world be filled with such men.

WWW

�It truly makes me look�distinguished?� Norrington asked
carefully, glancing over his tattooed shoulder with a discerning eye. It wasn�t
as if he didn�t believe Elizabeth and Jack at their word, well he believed
Elizabeth, but he had to be sure. He wasn�t entirely sure why, it wasn�t as if
he could get rid of the blasted thing now. Why on God�s earth had he agreed to
this?

�Look here mate,� Jack interrupted Norrington�s obsessive
musings decisively. �Even if it didn�t, there�s nothing you can do about it,
savvy? It�s yours. Its there to stay. Be glad it�s no
something you wake up having after a night of too much rum.�

Norrington blinked. Well yes, there was that. �Are you telling me that you�ve woken up with tattoos you
can�t remember getting?� Norrington wasn�t sure he believed him, but then he
thought about it a little more and all doubt faded from his mind. Of course the
infamous lover of rum and women Captain Jack Sparrow would allow himself to
become so drunk as to wake up the next morning with a new tattoo and no
recollection of getting it. �May I ask what it was a tattoo of?�

�It�s a mermaid. That�s all you need to know,� Jack said
evenly. Norrington laughed. �I�m having a thought here though, mate.�

�Oh?� Norrington asked warily. Jack�s thoughts weren�t
always thoughts that should be shared, let alone considered.

�Lizzie should get a tattoo herself. We wouldn�t want her to
feel left out,� Jack said with a nod.

�What? You�re out of your mind, you�you�pirate! In now way
am I going to let those men even come near
me! You two keep your tattoos to yourself!� Elizabeth threatened. Jack and
Norrington couldn�t help it. They both started laughing. Elizabeth simply
glowered, and had been about to scold them both further when a horribly
familiar and unwelcome voice interrupted on their moment together.

�Ah Jack. How nice it is to see you again,� Hector Barbossa
exclaimed with a grin, standing as clear as day on the sand as if he had always
been there.

�You-you�re dead,� Jack gasped. It seemed to be the popular
reaction for both Elizabeth and Norrington were gasping the same words moments
later.

Barbossa grinned, and it was a frightful sight. �Not anymore.�
Before any of them could react, he was charging them with his sword unsheathed,
the sharp metal glinting dangerously in the afternoon sunlight. Elizabeth
screamed.

TBC

A/N: Yes, it has been an age and a half since I�ve updated
this. I have been duly scolded by a barrage of people though, so you need not
worry yourself about that. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter. Oddly enough
it ended practically where the last one did. This chapter was one of flashbacks
it seemed. Ah oh well. I hope you liked them in any case.

Wonderful Reviewer Response Time!

Arenas: Yeah well not three days�heh�.but
there will be some more Jack and Barbossa stuff next chapter. I�ve still got to
deevilify poor Jack somehow. ;)

OpraNoodlemantra: Yes, Jack will
meet up with his fam sooner
or later. Prolly sooner seeing as this fic is winding
down to a close.

xkholeyesx:
Sorry there wasn�t much Barbossa in this
chapter. There will be oodles in the next, I promise.

BraveSymbol: Heh�this
was more than a month and a half update time�heh I
think I jinxed myself with the 4 day chapter last chapter. Whoopsie

FalconWing: I have no plans for
dead Jack. Yet. I�ve still got another story to write
you know. ;)

Lynx Rider: Are you kidding me? I love your reviews!! And
yes. I am the Angst Queen. ;)

AJB: I wish the 4 day chapter woulda
become a habit. That might have saved me from some scrollies.
Ah well. Better late than never right?

Padme17: Oh he�s still totally evil at the moment. Well past
Jack anyway, but he will have a desperate change of heart soon. Don�t you worry. ;)

Holliday1081: Thank you so much for your review! You always
make me blush. I�m serious. Sorry for the overly long wait for this chapter. I
wish I could have put more Julian in it, but alas his time has passed. I like
to think he might show up again to wreak a little havoc in the future though.
One can always hope.

Mistress of Destruction: Sorry I couldn�t have posted this
sooner for you. Thank you as always for your review.

Cap�n Dru
Shaddix: Thank you for the kind words. Sorry I
couldn�t update this sooner.

Ok you guys are the best. You really and truly are. I love
you all. Without your constant support-and constant nagging for some of you-I
would have never gotten this chapter written methinks. Thank you so much all of
you! Drinks all around!

-Merrie
- 13
- 14
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A Gilded Cage