Whispers of Redemption | By : GeorgieFain Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 2244 -:- 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. |
Epilogue
The Black Pearl was only a day out from Tortuga. Jack Sparrow was pleased with things as they had unfolded. Only two days ago, they had left Elizabeth Turner a few leagues off Port Royal and promptly attacked a merchant ship, taking it for booty---but, he had deliberately insisted that the men wouldn't receive their share of the haul until they had reached Tortuga's docks. Something more to cause grumbling among the crew. T'was working, the plan. Now, he had only to believe that Hector wouldn't betray him a second time. That required a great deal of inner strength and a faith which Jack did not quite possess.
Oh, aye, he possessed some faith for the accord---
But only when he chose to look at the situation with a squinty eye.
It had been unnerving, to say the least, to watch the Flying Dutchman sail so close by his lady as they approached the verdant island of Jamaica. He had hailed Captain Turner, and was proud of himself for not wincing at the honorific. It could have been his end, doing for Davy Jones and Will's life be damned. But, he had done the truly right thing, there, at the edge of battle---he knew it and so did Hector. So did Elizabeth and Will, he wanted to believe. T'was better for the whelp to be immortal and constantly at sea than dead and lost for all times.
He had let Lizzie leave the Pearl without a hug, but only because he knew that her husband did watch from the quarterdeck of the Flying Dutchman. He had made out as if he wouldn't trust her to not stab him in the back, saying one kiss was enough for a lifetime and that they'd already shared that, ta muchly. He hadn't let her touch him for hug or for kiss and not a small part was for how Will Turner's eyes had been on their deck and the goings-on there.
Another part, however, was for the nature of the mutiny at hand. He had needed to make it look as if Lizzie wasn't to be trusted by him, her being quartermaster's mate and all and right in Hector's pocket. It had felt odd to not give the lass a final buss before allowing her to leave. What with her being still a lass and all, even married. When he did see her again, she wouldn't be so easily cozzened; he'd seen it happen to all married women after their wedding night, aye?
Well, in Lizzie's case, t'was to be a wedding day, not a wedding night---
The winds were fine and the ship did need but a thing or two from Tortuga. Yet, for the nature of the mutiny Hector meant to lead, he had said that the Pearl would make berth at the docks for a three-night. He would go ashore and be gone from sight for the whole of it, only checking in with his lover and matelot once a day. That would give Hector Barbossa the space and time necessary to make iron the crew's will. When he came to the docks at noon of the fourth day, he wouldn't be finding his ship but a longboat outfitted with every single thing he might need in order to catch up with the Pearl at Hispaniola in two or three days’ time. He'd just get there, come back aboard, make a pretty speech, take command once more, and return to Tortuga to retrieve Gibbs and Elizabeth at the end of a month of pillaging. Then, they could go after the prize of the Fountain of Youth.
T'wasn't a bad plan at all, now that he gave it a great deal of thought.
The salt-laced wind was blowing past him and into the black sails.
Jack's kohl-lined eyes swept over the deck before him and found what he was seeking.
He narrowed his gaze at the sight, scowling a bit.
He did care a great deal for Hen, but the idea of her leading a mutiny against him was a bit more than he found himself willing to accept. However, he was willing to forgive---she’d always had a wild streak and if the plan went accordingly, she would learn the lesson by a hard way. One that he anticipated taking part in. Then, when she knew she’d been bested and that she wouldn‘t be allowed to give orders against him or against Barbossa, the lass would settle down and become worthy of trusting again---as he had once trusted her, on the Cathay Rose. She was a good sailor and a good pirate. She just needed the wind knocked out of her sails a bit.
Hector would do that for him in the short time he was off-ship.
Henriette was there, sitting on a barrel of water, cigarillo clenched between her white teeth and faded black scarf on her short brown hair. Her pale green eyes were serious and hard. Around her were gathered a handful---Pintel and Ragetti and Marty among them---who were all talking in whispers and mutters, careful to be quiet. The lass was holding court and only the stray word reached his ear. The crew was ready. All they needed was a stronger leader, for none of them were quite ready to go putting their faith in Henriette De la Hoya. Even if she was the ship’s good luck piece and a daughter of the wicked-strong Creole pirate Anamaria, a woman many of them had sailed with. No, the crew was wanting a leader whom they had already put their trust in---
It was time, then. Things had reached the critical burning point.
To his left, fishing off the stern with a pole made from bamboo, was Cotton. Above his head, sitting on the main boom, was Cotton’s parrot and Jack the undead monkey.
Jack called the mute pirate over to him and gave up the helm.
He tread carefully and quietly down from the quarterdeck and swung around, his coat-tails swaying, to enter the cabin. There, in the dimness, he found the man he sought. Hector lay dozing in bed, a book and an apple under his long hands. Jack stood still and watched his lover for a few moments, smiling to himself. It was an amazement, really. Fourteen years had wrought real change in them both---he was finally a true pirate and Hector had managed to learn the ideologies of diplomacy and politicking. Betwixt them, they made a whole that he was glad for. He would never allow another real mutiny---and if this whole plot turned sour on him, he wouldn't let ten years go by before he caught up with his matelot and rectified the situation.
But, he sincerely believed Hector's words on the matter.
There wouldn't be another betrayal.
Well, he was convinced that he believed...and that was close enough, aye?
He shook Barbossa by the boot with his leather-wrapped hand. "C'mon, ye great beastie."
Hector rolled over to look at him with bleary eyes and a frown. His matelot's voice was drowsy and hoarse, almost hostile at being awakened. "Aye? What be th' problem, Jack Sparrow? Can ye not let a man---"
He gave a chilly smile, remembering what he'd seen ondeck. He'd just have to keep playing the game, for things to work themselves out to the best end. He'd found it was an effective trick. "It's time, son. They're at their ends out there."
His matelot sat up with a push and a groan. "D'ye wonder if'n this be how Judas felt?"
Jack laughed, then, and tugged off his hat and coat. "If'n so, he was in the right of it, aye? Cotton's at the wheel and our missy's politicking. Your lot are looking for a real leader, just the now."
Hector paused in putting on his own boots and hat and turned to face him, pale eyes slanting more as he narrowed them in concerned thought. "D'ye trust me yet, Jack?"
With a cocky grin, he pushed aside the half-eaten apple and the open book and then crawled into bed and sighed, settling into the warm spot left behind by the larger body of his lover. He could do with a bit of a nap. Closing his eyes, Jack slid both arms behind his head, answering. "Nope. Wouldn’t be wise, trusting a pirate. But, I find love a fine substitute. Don't you?"
Silence came back. But, at last, silence was broken.
Hector sounded like he might be strangling. "Aye, Jack, I do."
He didn't open his eyes, but instead nodded his head. "Hector, love...go betray me now, like a good lad."
The End
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