Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

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.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
Year Thirty-two

Elizabeth's Journal

It has been a week since the battle with Lord Beckett and the East India Trading Company's armada near the Andaman Islands, where the tiny and uncharted Shipwreck Island is to be found. I still have not quite taken it all in, I fear, not the true extent of that battle nor its final consequences.

I have kept my own private council in the tiny space I made for myself in the aft holds. Captain Barbossa has told me that this particular spot is called 'Captain's Stock', a small smuggling hold, and that it does make a most excellent place for thinking private thoughts and the such, when one would rather not be seen. I had the impression, when he showed me this smelly cabinet behind its small hatch, that he was speaking of my private grief and the necessity to find such a corner for the expressing of that grief.

I would not believe that he has, at some time, made use of such a place himself. He is not the man for anything but the captain's cabin. If he has ever used the 'Captain's Stock', I cannot imagine the when or how or why. I do not care to know, in all bald honesty. Captain Barbossa and I have no cause to speak to one another, presently, and I would not dare to intrude on his private nature for an explanation.

I did accept his gift of a lantern, the blanket, and a bottle of rum for my solitary times. I would rather not let the men know that I grieve, even as it must surely be plainly understood. I am, or was, a Governor's daughter and ladies of society, even those who would turn pirate, are better trained than to become hysterical in the full view of men, no matter what stripe of men they might be. Quite through chance, I am now both a pirate lord and a pirate king by my own right, even as that council has disbanded. I must act the part, even as I do not feel myself to be such a noteworthy personage. Weakness shall not be countenanced in one such as myself, under any conditions.

I do believe that this was perhaps part of Captain Barbossa's reasons for finding me a measure of privacy; he will not have been comfortable with my silence, I imagine. The calm before the storm, one might call it; I have held myself in check quite long enough.

As we are currently sailing under an excellent wind in the Arabian Sea and headed toward the coastline run of Africa, the Captains of the Black Pearl have agreed to make for the Caribbean. This will be a journey of several months, I believe, but we will make port soon for the sake of fresh supplies. Captains Barbossa and Sparrow have reached an accord with my own sweet Will, the new demi-god of the seabound dead and Captain of the Flying Dutchman. There is a cay, a mere two leagues from Port Royal at Jamaica, where I shall be put to shore. It is there that I will be given supplies and a longboat and the farewells of this crew of men who have fought so bravely against such impossible odds at my side.

My wedding night has, once more, been postponed through death and imprisonment and circumstances very much beyond my control. I am, however, now a married woman and it would behoove me to not spend the rest of my life on the Black Pearl, no matter how excellent a ship she is. It is on that island that I will be reunited with Will, my husband, even if only for a day.

I grieve, but not only for the loss of a conventional marriage. I have lost my father and, in effect, am an orphan. I do have property and money enough, in Port Royal. I shall not be without home and hearth. I care not what society thinks of me, truly. I never cared for the parties and teas and the fancies. I am, I believe, a pirate at heart. I shall use my influence to protect these men who have given such care to me, the woman in their midst. They have an honor about them which is true and steadfast.

To all ends, I may also be considered a widow, I suppose. My husband is among the living dead, only to visit land once every ten years, if the legend is correct and I have no reason to believe otherwise, as it was the goddess Calypso herself who has said these words. I have not asked either of the Captains if there is another way in which I might be with Will. It does come to my mind that I could sail with the Flying Dutchman.

I did hear the Captains this morning as they discussed the matter of a treasure in the rum locker, just outside my private cabinet, which is really only large enough for a woman of my shape to lay down inside of. The two Captains were unlocking the rum locker, to retrieve the grog, and the sound of Captain Barbossa's voice wakened me. I lay quite still and listened.

It would seem that Calypso, before being taken to the deck and released to her true form, had a private word with Captain Barbossa in the brig. She told him of a rare treasure that could be found on a wrecked ship in the Seychelles north of Madagascar. At the time of the telling, the wreck had not happened yet. This treasure was the key to all that Captain Barbossa could want in the way of future treasures, if he would but retrieve it from the wrecked ship.

Captain Sparrow was determined that they must find the wrecked ship and the treasure it contained, but Captain Barbossa was of the mind that he could do without such tainted goods as what Tia Dalma might offer and he asked of the treasure they were going to find at the coast of Florida. He was sure that they should press on, leave the wrecked ship alone.

But, at last, Captain Sparrow convinced Captain Barbossa. I am, at this moment, unsure of the matters I have played witness to. Treasure to the side, I wonder at how the two Captains speak to each other when they believe themselves to be alone. I have thought, the last two years, that Captain Barbossa was a monstrous pirate who might pay good silver to see Jack Sparrow dead on his knife.

Yet, I will admit that my own experiences with Captain Barbossa have not been a complete horror. He possesses a sort of vague honor about him, but he is not to be trusted. Since his revival to this realm of life by Tia Dalma, I did serve the function of his first mate, one might say, while we were seeking a way to World's End. He is, however, a true pirate, and as such, he serves no one's purpose but his own. Yet, I did believe he cared nothing for Jack Sparrow; indeed, I imagined, as evidenced by his previous behaviors, that he held Jack in absolute disdain. I imagined that Jack must surely feel the very same disdain for the mutineer who stole his ship.

However, I have, since we rescued Jack from Davy Jones' Locker, seen many curious events which suggest to me that things are not quite so easily explained away. There is animosity between the two Captains, but there is more to them both than seething anger or hate. In fact, I wonder if they hate each other at all. As I listened to them talking at the rum locker, I was surprised to hear the tone of their words take on a new cadence, a strange music. Yes, it was music I heard between them, I do believe.

Jack Sparrow called Captain Barbossa by a Spanish word that I have read of, in stories about buccaneers. He did use the word 'matelot' in a manner that would be an insult to any who did hear it and I wondered at how Captain Barbossa restrained his prodigious temper. But, instead of drawing his rapier and killing Jack, Captain Barbossa remained silent and did nothing.

This is but only one thing I have seen or heard which suggests that the true situation between the two Captains is not as it seems, outwardly. They bicker about the ship and its command and how things ought to be done. They fight on who should be captain and how it will be decided and toss insults the like of which should certainly cause murder to be done. Yet, no matter how hot the words, they do not come to blows and blood is never spilled. Jack Sparrow must certainly drive Captain Barbossa mad, while Captain Barbossa's inherent brutality only drives Jack to further inane action.

I fully expect murder to be done. I may wake one morning to find that Mister Gibbs is the new captain as Jack Sparrow and Captain Barbossa have murdered each other in a mutual pique of drunken rage. This, I fear, even as I cannot ever recall seeing Jack in a rage, nor have I witnessed Captain Barbossa drinking anything stronger than a glass of wine or a cup of grog.

What is it that lays between these two men that stays their hand? Does Captain Barbossa not maroon or kill Jack Sparrow for fear of the crew�s loyalties? If so, what stays Jack Sparrow's hand, beyond the fact that he is not in the least a murderous sort? Jack did pull the trigger, when we returned to the land of this living realm, as we were setting terms for what would happen. It was only by the mercy of wet powder did the Captain survive. The wily old pirate knows Jack would kill him, as it did happen before at Isla de Muerta, and yet the surprise and disbelief were quite clear on his face. Perhaps it was the cold determination behind what Jack was about, when he tried to shoot Captain Barbossa on ship.

But, I do think that there is much more to these two men than I have been led to believe. They must have, at some time, been very dear friends. It was only this morning's words that made me sure of what I have begun to suspect of them. There is something in the word 'matelot' and how Jack did use that word. Just as there is something in how Captain Barbossa says Jack's name, when they are alone. There is no affections to be heard, in these words themselves, but it is the very lack of affections in such words that makes me believe my supposition.

I shall simply have to keep my eyes and ears open and hope to find more clues that might explain the oddness that abounds on this ship between its two Captains. But, I might also invite Jack Sparrow to drink with me. He has, I am fully aware, a tendency to talk in riddles even while under the influence of drink, but perhaps I could decipher something of those riddles if I asked the right questions.
- 2
- 3
- 4
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Whispers of Redemption