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One Regret	By : Ladykohl Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female > Jack/Elizabeth Views: 2237 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean, and I do not make any money from these writings...

Chapter List
- 1-Prologue
- 2-Chapter I: An Odd Turn of Events
- 1
- 2
Title: One Regret

Author: Kohl Lined Eyes

Chapter Rating: PG

Warnings: M/F, angst

Disclaimer:I make no money from the mouse... though I doubt I�d turn it down

Summary: Post AWE, Jack has one regret and maybe no time to make up for it...
Author's Note: Finally got past that prologue. I really hope people find their way back to my fics as I finally find the time to finish them!

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One Regret

Chapter I: An Odd Turn of Events

�Philosophers, for the most part, are constitutionally timid, and dislike the unexpected. Few of them would be genuinely happy as pirates or burglars. Accordingly, they invent systems which make the future calculable, at least in its main outlines.�
- Bertrand Russell

First... there was the sound of a breeze, possibly one of the most soothing sounds known to the world.
That was what Captain Jack Sparrow awoke to.
He listened to the breeze for a few moments before becoming fully aware that he could feel it as well. The soft, cool caresses of a breeze born just off the sea where the waves broke on shore. Come to think of it, he could even hear the waves breaking. All together, not the worst way he had ever woken up.
So it was with one blink, then a second... that he finally opened his eyes and sat up - shielding his eyes with his hand from the blazing sunlight.
Strange.
Stranger still was the fact that this would seem strange to him when everything that had just happened had not really seemed so strange - or perhaps what was so strange about this was that it really wasn�t that strange at all. Perhaps he had just gotten used to thanks not making much sense.
It was a beach. Nothing more or less than that.
Jack furrowed his forehead and surveyed his surroundings a bit. Palm trees, some cavernous rocks behind him, the ocean before him, cliffs off in the distance -- this didn�t seem at all different from a hundred beaches he had seen before. Was this to be where he spent the rest of eternity?
Was this... William Turner�s locker?
Jack tilted his head as he noticed something he had not noticed before. He stood up - a bit heavily... and walked a few paces down the beach.
Jack kneeled in front of the wreckage of an over turned dingy. A dingy that looked rather familiar - even upside down - seeing as how he had spent three months floating around in it.
Jack looked around again and ran his fingers down the plaits of his beard - his mouth pursed in confusion.
�Ahoy there, sailor!� A man�s voice called from the cliff�s above him. Jack looked up - then around, then back up - pointing to himself as he looked at the man for confirmation. �Yes, you!� The man almost laughed. �You all right?�
Jack could think of only one thing to say.
�Am I dead?�
The man did laugh a bit at this.
�Close to it from the looks of it.� He called out. �Stay where you are and I�ll come down.�
By now, Jack really had no other choice. He had no idea where he was or if everything that had happened with William had been a dream. It had seemed real enough, but he supposed he hadn�t quite been right with reality since his stay in the locker, so he couldn�t know for sure. Maybe he was dead, and that man on the cliff was an angel of some sort - come to help him adjust. Jack looked down at his dingy.
Or maybe he had crashed on the shore of some island and had knocked himself unconscious.
Either way, he was not nearly drunk enough to handle it properly.
Jack rested his weight against his upturned dingy and watched the waves roll in to shore. It couldn�t have been passed noon... but in about six hours the sun would begin to go down again. Another sunset when he thought he�d never see one again. Jack took a deep breath to cope with the idea that he was, quite probably, still alive. It was a lot to take in - and he knew right away that he had been wrong.
He had said that there was never more beautiful a sunset than a man�s last... but he now knew that the most beautiful sunset would be the one a man lived see when he should have been dead.
He supposed that something about this should have been worrying him, but he was too relieved to care.
Jack was able to pass a few more minutes in silent contemplation before the man who had been speaking to him from the cliffs arrived as promised.
�You�re all right, then?� He asked as he walked - somewhat out of breath - to where Jack leaned against the sad hull of his sad vessel. Jack swayed to his feet.
�Given a loose definition of the word.� He answered.
The man - perhaps ten or fifteen years or so Jack�s senior - furrowed his brow.
�Perhaps you ought to sit back down.� He responded. �No telling what harm�s been done to your head. Looks like you didn�t exactly drift to shore.�
�My head�s seen me through worse things.� He said, looking around a bit. �Now, if you�ll be so kind as to tell me where I might be able to find the nearest bottle of rum, I�d be very much obliged.�
The man sighed.
�I think you�ll be needing water a bit more than spirits. What say we take care of the water first, and then we�ll see what can be done about finding you some rum?�
Jack did not like this man.
�What say we do the second first and the first sometime after the second�s been done a second and third time?�
And, judging by the look on the older man�s face, perhaps he did not like Jack either.
�Best be getting to that water now.� The man answered. �I fear the sun may have already done its damage.�
So it came down to this; this man whom Jack had just met and did not like both stood between him and his
rum, and was his only way of getting to any rum. This, therefore, made his new acquaintance both his best friend and his worst enemy. He found that often in his life he had to reconcile these two characteristics in people and that the best thing to do, at least in the short term, was to appease them.
And anyway... Jack supposed he could drink just one cup of water.
�Fair enough. You argue a good point.�
The man looked just a bit confused, as he had probably not seen their conversation as anything approaching an argument. Also, he did not know Jack Sparrow.
�Er... well, all right then. I�ll show you the way.�
****
The little house to which Jack had been led was quite warm and nice in it�s own way. If the man lived here alone, he did a relatively good job of keeping it clean and inviting. Jack sat in what appeared to be a small parlor room while the man prepared tea out of sight. He could not remember the last time he had had tea prepared for him - and furthermore, he could not remember the last time he had sat in a proper parlor. It finally struck him as odd that a stranger on a beach would invite a man he knew nothing about back to his home for tea. For all the old man knew... Jack could have been a pirate.
The man appeared in the doorway with a tray in both hands and set it down on a small table in front of Jack. There wasn�t much. The teapot was plain and, most likely, old and the saucer underneath one of the teacups had a small chip in it. Other than that there was a dish piled with biscuits - perhaps a replacement for more expensive teacakes. It wasn�t a rich man�s welcome, but it was a welcome nonetheless... and that was something Jack had not received in a very very long time.
The man poured a cup of tea and handed it to Jack.
�... Thank you.� Jack said, not quite sure how these kinds of things went.
�So, tell me, what do you remember?� The man asked as he poured himself some tea. �Do you have any clue where you are?�
�I am not all together sure that I am still alive.� The pirate answered.
�You seem well enough alive from where I�m sitting.�
�Yes, well... appearances are deceiving.
�You mean they can be.�
�Er... yes.� He said as he took a tentative sip of his tea - surprised to find that it was perfectly, for lack of a more rugged word, lovely. After all this time... he supposed you could take the boy out of England, but you could never take England out of the boy. �You have a fine taste in teas, I�ll give you that.�
�Oh, not me. I let my ward choose the tea and flowers. I couldn�t be bothered with the tasks, truth be told.�
�Ward?� Jack asked as he looked around. Ah, so that was why this place was so clean. No man living on his own could pull it off - he just wouldn�t have the motivation.
�Yes. Lovely woman. Found her on the beach much the same way I found you. Couldn�t remember her own name; let alone where she came from, poor dear. I told her she could stay here until she gets her wits about her.�
�And how long has it been?�
�About a month I suppose.�
Jack paused.
�And where is this taste endowed lovely as we speak?�
�Oh, at the market with Annette I suspect.�
�Exactly how many wayward souls have you collected out there on that beach?� Jack asked, knitting his brow and setting his tea down.
�Annette was once my Lady�s attendant.� The old man said with a soft smile.
�Once?�
�Yes, my Lady passed on some time ago from Typhoid. Now I live here mostly alone with Annette. I let all the other servants go, but couldn�t bring myself to put Annette out. My wife had loved her so.�
Jack had nothing to say.
�What about you, sir?� The man asked. �Have you a lady?�
Jack nearly winced at the question. Had he a lady?
�There is a lady, to be sure.� Jack started. �But as for the having, it would really just be contingent on your meaning.�
The man took a drink from his cup and looked quite baffled as to what Jack meant.
�Well... how many meanings are there?�
Jack laughed shortly.
�If you mean marriage, engagement or a relationship... then, no. I have not a lady. If you mean a woman whom I would sooner forget than live with the torment she seems so disposed to bestow upon me each time my thoughts wander, however unsanctioned, in to her territory - then yes. I have a lady.�
The old man laughed light heartedly.
�That is exactly what I meant.� He responded.
There was a sudden bustling in another part of the house that seemed to alert the old man to someone�s presence.
�Excuse me.� He said, and then stood and was gone. Jack passed a few moments in silence, observing his surroundings. The cottage was a meager size, nothing that would suggest great wealth - but neither did it suggest poverty. This man seemed to live well within his means. He was probably a gentleman heir to some very small fortune. The furniture was old, but not worn. There was a small sized pianoforte in the corner and Jack noticed that it was not collecting dust. Either someone in the house played it, or Annette and the old man�s ward had a talent for cleaning house.
�Here she is.� The old man�s voice came from the direction he had disappeared to. Jack turned from his musings to see what he meant.
He would perhaps think back to this moment in his life often and wonder, how had he not fainted dead away?
The woman standing with her arm in the old man�s was of medium stature, thin. Beautiful. She wore a simple but decidedly feminine and stylish dress - something Jack had not seen her wear in quite some time. She smiled pleasantly at Jack, though she appeared to be a bit taken aback by his appearance.
�Meet my ward.� The man said cheerfully. Jack stood.
�Elizabeth.� He said - though his voice seemed almost to catch in his throat. It was she, no doubt. He could never mistake her face. Perhaps he truly had died - perhaps this was some kind of heaven. Well, maybe heaven was stretching it a bit. Elizabeth being here made it just as possible that this was hell. The old man and the young woman looked at each other in confusion.
�Sir...� The man started. �Do you know this young lady?�
�No.� Elizabeth said. She seemed quite distressed as she held on to the old man. �He couldn�t possibly. He�s... he�s a...�
�A pirate, yes. Let�s get that out of the way here and now... and I do know who you are.�
�You?� She asked, seeming on the brink of a fit. �You know me?�
�Now, Miss... let�s not get ourselves all worked up until we get to the bottom of this.� The man tried to calm her down.
�It�s not possible.� Elizabeth reasserted.
�A great many things are not possible, love... but they seem to be constantly happening to us nonetheless.� Jack said quietly.
�I couldn�t. You couldn�t... it�s...�
And that was about all she could say before she fell insensible in to Jack�s arms.
�Oh dear.� The old man said.
�Seems to have developed a slight aversion to pirates I see.� Jack said, grunting just slightly under Elizabeth�s weight as he carried her to a settee. �She never could seem to make up her mind about that.�
�Sir,� Said the old man. �Please forgive me for being so bold as to inquire, but given the very unusual circumstances I feel obliged to ask.�
Jack stood straight and said nothing, waiting for the question. He felt a very odd tingling sensation in his head that ran down the length of his spine and he was not all together sure that he would not be joining dear Lizzie in her foray in to unconsciousness. The effects of this late shock were not completely discernible as yet, but he had enough presence of mind to know that if recent events were any indication, he had some very strange times ahead of him.
�Well,� The old man continued. �Would this happen to be the young lady to which you were referring earlier?�
�One and the same.� Jack admitted.
�Oh dear.� The man repeated.
�Yes, that remains to be very helpful.� Jack responded as he sat in a chair close to Elizabeth � feeling suddenly the need to not be the one in charge of supporting his own weight.
�Well, who is she? From where does she come? Is she of family? We should contact them immediately. This is such good fortune!�
�Not for her.� Jack said, nearly under his breath as he looked over at her peaceful face. He felt that familiar pain in his chest. He was not sure why or how she had lost her memory, but perhaps it was just as well. With her father and mother both dead and her husband as good as lost at sea, why should she have to remember? �She has no family.�
And then, from the depths of a somewhat depraved mind, came an idea.
�We were to be married.� Jack said suddenly.
�I thought you said there was no engagement.� The man said managing to get the words out without seeming accusing or suspicious. Jack vaguely noted that this man was, perhaps, the only genuinely kind man he had ever met in his life.
�Yes. I mean no. Well, yes - there was not.� Jack said. �Her father disapproved of the match for obvious reasons and sent her away. Fortunately, which is to say unfortunately, he is now dead.�
�How terrible.� The man said, true sympathy showing in the lines around his eyes.
�Yes, in fact... everyone she knows is dead except for me.� He looked back at Elizabeth. �I�m all she has in the world.�
The words left his mouth and brought with them an odd sense of realization. It was the truth.
The man appeared quite affected by the news as he looked to Elizabeth with pity very visible in his old features.
�And how was it that you came to know her?� He asked without taking his eyes from Elizabeth.
�She fainted off a cliff and I jumped in the water to save her.� Jack answered, marveling for a moment at how the plain truth could sometimes sound more mad than if he had just made something up - and then he paused. �I loved her from the first moment.�
That may have even been true as well.
�Miss... Elizabeth, was it?� The old man took a deep breath. �I had been calling her Jane. It seemed to suit her and she did not mind so much.�
Well, Jack minded. Jane? Plain Jane? No, the name did not suit her at all.
�Elizabeth.� Jack asserted.
�Yes, well� I�ll have Annette fetch the smelling salts and we�ll get miss Elizabeth a nice strong cup of tea.� The man stared down at Elizabeth for a few moments before turning to go. �What an odd turn of events�� He mumbled to himself as he went.
As Jack stared down at Elizabeth in wonder, his heart nearly coming apart at the seams� he couldn�t have agreed more.
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One Regret