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The Evil Lady E	By : EvilE Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Het - Male/Female > Jack/Elizabeth Views: 5995 -:- 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
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ELE4awaken

Chapter 4:

The sound of gentle waves, sloshing in and out, brought Jack slowly back to consciousness. He listened to the rhythmic sound for a few minutes, breathing slowly along with the waves. After a few moments he became aware of water, warm water, touching his toes. He opened his eyes, and then immediately shut them, because the brightness seared his retinas and sent pain shooting through his head. He felt like he had the mother of all hangovers. Had he been drinking that much rum lately? He tried to remember when he had last had anything to drink, and couldn't. So what was it that left him feeling so, well... washed up?

Oh, that's right. He died.

But I haven't really died, he thought. I've just washed up on this beach, and had the mother of all dreams... nightmares.

He opened his eyes again, slowly, and turned his face away from the sun. It was hot, very hot, and his mouth felt like it was filled with cotton. He rose slowly onto his knees. Then he remembered.

The Pearl was gone.

Which meant the Kraken was real, and everything else. He groaned, shaking his head. Finally he turned and sat, cross-legged. He had no boots, no sword, no pistol. He looked up the beach one way, and down the other. Suddenly he recognized it. It was the island where Davey Jones had buried his... locker.

“Not even a pistol, this time?” he muttered, as he struggled to his feet. “Don't know if I was talking to God or the devil.” He shaded his eyes, peering down the empty stretch of beach, then dropped his hand to his side, and muttered, “If it were God, he'd have given me a boat.”

He wandered down the beach for almost an hour, making the circuit of the island, looking for anything he could use to escape. Suddenly he saw a figure in the distance.

“Hey!” He broke into a run, waving his arms broadly. “Hey! HEY!”

The figure did not move, but waited. As he got closed, he saw it was a woman, with skin the color of cocoa and a bright yellow dress. She waited for Jack, standing quietly on the beach.

“Hello, love,” he said, out of breath, “whoever you are, tell me you came on a boat. And it's still here.”

“I did.” He voice was lilting with a Jamaican accent.

“Lovely. Where is it?”

“Oveh here,” she gestured. “Tia Dalma sent me to fin' you, Captane Jack Spar-row. She say, she saw you.”

* * *

From Tia, Jack learned the destination of his companions, who had departed two days before. Barbossa, it seemed, had fooled her, which required some powerful magic, he was sure. They sat at her table, the evening noises of insects and frogs outside on the river. A candle burned between them, and Tia's eyes were dark and full of sadness.

“When I foun' him he was weak, so weak from de ocean and de sand. He tol' me that when he died, from your pistol, Jack Sparrow, he came face to face wi' de headen gods demselves.”

Jack sat in her hut, huddled over a cup of tea (with a splash of rum). “In Isla de Muerta?”

“Yis. An' dey restored 'im, wi' de promise dat he would destroy de gold an' treasure, so no wan would ever be tempted to disturb dem again. I help him until 'e was well. Dis was a long time.”

“But?”

“But I don' truss 'im, Jack Spar-row. De headen gods be dangerous. An' dere's someting dey always wannt for deir troubles.”

He looked at her. “Let me guess. Blood.”

“Yis.”

“He's going to kill them?”

“I didin know, 'til I saw it wid me own eyes. Een a vision. He promised to take your friends to de place where he had come from. From the gateway to de underworld where de gods had sent him. Dat's where dey went searchin' for you. But he will betray dem, soon. He will go to make his sacrifice to de headen gods.”

“Whose blood do they want?”

Tia looked at him, her eyes black with portent. “All de blood of de virgin. Dis was de price of raisin' him from de dead.”

“The virgin?”

Tia lowered her chin and looked at him dead in the eye, meaningfully.

Jack leaned his head back, looking at her from the corner of his eye, comprehension dawning. “Elizabeth!”

“Go after dem, Jack Sparrow. You muss stop eem.” Tia rose, then, and went to a leather pouch danging from the roof of the hut. “I wannt to give you someting.”

“This isn't going to be another jar of dirt, is it?”

“No.” She returned to the table, and held out what looked like a crude, heathen knife. The blade was bone, the roughly chipped blade having an almost scaly texture. The handle was both carved and painted, and depicted something green and lizard-like, with a rainbow of feathers around his neck. “De headen gods may be angray wid you. Eef dey come to you, you muss use dat.” She nodded at the knife.

“Who's this?” Jack said, running his thumb over the carved image.

“Dat is Quetzalcoatl. De feattered serpent. Take it wid you. Dey may not like dat you interfere wid deir virgin sacrifice.”

“No, I imagine they won't.” He wrapped his fingers around the handle, which only occupied half his palm. “Not a very large knife,” he muttered with a pout.

“Don' worray about de size of de weapon. Onlay how you use eet.”

“Of course, Tia darling,” he said, flashing a sudden, lopsided grin.

“Make haste. You may yet be able to save 'er.”

“And Will,” he murmured, half to himself.

“Sor-ray?”

“Nothing, nothing. Now, I'll need your advice on where I might borrow...” He leaned forward again, folding his hands before him. “...a ship.”

“You wannt a ship? I will fin' you a ship, Jack Sparrow.” Leaning over her tiny bones and stones, she smiled at Jack, exposing her rows of even, blue-black teeth. Then she looked down, and lifted one of them. “Dere is a ship, not well guarded. She is inna port.”

“Which port, and how quickly can I get there?”

“She is in Porto Sant'An-na. Not far.”

He cringed. “Oh, lovely. I hate that bloody place...”

“She is dere, waitin' for you. You can steal her widout harmin' anywann. Much.”

“Borrow. Borrow without permission. How will I know this ship, when I see it?”

“You muss know her name. She is de Queen Elizabett.”

“The Queen Elizabeth? That's interesting.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully.

“You muss go, Jack Spar-row. Dere is no time to lose. We will 'elp you to Porto Sant'An-na. After dat, you muss catch dem before Barbossa knows you are dere.”

At his wide-eyed look, she reached across the table to pat his hand, and added, “You can do eet, Jack Spar-row. You muss do eet. Dey all went wid him to look for you, at de penalty of deir own lives. Even de girl. De one who betrayed you.”

Jack's eyes widened even more, and he drew back, scanning Tia's face from top to bottom. “You know? About that?”

“Yis. I saw eet.”

He cleared his throat and glanced around the hut, even though they were alone, and leaned forward conspiratorially. “Jus' between you an' me, Tia, what do you think I ought to do? About that?”

Tia shook her head slowly, looking down at her bones and stones. “Only you can decide dat, Jack Spar-row. De girl was sorray very soon. She cry. But she did eet. She did eet and didin look back.”

Jack closed his eyes for a moment, and he was back on the Pearl, Elizabeth's soft lips on his - god, she was sweet - and she yanked the shackles closed and looked up at him. That look... he shuddered to see the cruelty there, the unnecessary force as she yanked the chain tight. Then she was against his mouth again, with a pleading whisper...It's after you, not the ship, not us... it's the only way, can't you see? She parted her lips again, almost kissing him, and he leaned in hoping for a taste, just one last taste... but then she drew back, cruel as before.

I'm not sorry... a pretty statement, but who was she trying to convince, Jack or herself?

“An' she lie. She lie to the bwuoy.”

His eyes flew open. “Which boy? The whelp?”

“Will-yam Tur-nah. De one who loves her.”

“Naturally.”

“She tol' heem dat you stay behind to save dem. She made you a her-oh.” Tia smiled again. “Which is good, onlay eef you stay dead.”

“Did he believe her?”

“Yis. But he saw someting, someting he doesen wannt to remember.”

“Right. Well, I don't blame him, I'd prefer not to remember it myself.” He stood, nearly knocking his head on a giant jar of eyes suspended from the ceiling. “Well, Tia, it's been lovely, as always. Now, about that ship.”

By dawn of the next day he was on his way. On his way to either kill, or forgive, Elizabeth.

If Barbossa didn't kill her first.
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The Evil Lady E