Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

Ordinary Man	By : danglingdingle Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > General Views: 1471 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I dot not own PotC nor have any affiliation with Disney. I make no profit from doing this.

Chapter List
- 1-Ordinary Man
- 2-2
- 3-3
- 4-4
- 5-5
- 6-6
- 7-7
- 8-8
- 9-9
- 10-9b
- 11-10
- 12-Interlude
- 8
- 9
- 10
”When I see the King, it reminds me that there is but one King of Heaven, God Almighty.”

The first words Will heard upon stepping into the tavern didn’t startle him as much as the silence in the room. On a second look, he saw the patrons of the house packed around a table in the corner, blocking Will’s view of the owner of the voice.

Yet, it didn’t stop him from recognizing the distinct sound of Jack Sparrow telling a story.

”And when I see the Queen, I think of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who is Queen of Heaven.”

Will walked to the counter, oblivious that he was moving as soundlessly as he could, so as not to disturb the almost religious atmosphere.

After managing to capture the barkeep's attention and ordering a pint, Will slipped on a chair as close to the crowd as he could. A gap between sturdy shoulders revealed Jack sitting at a table, his hat, a small stack of coins, and a deck of cards in front of him, some of the cards in his hand.

”When I count the number of spots on a deck of cards,”

Jack laid the rest of the cards on the table and looked at his audience, seemingly sharing his words with everyone individually, while spreading the cards into a half a circle.

”I find three hundred-and-sixty-five, the number of days in a year. There are fifty-two cards, the number of weeks in a year. There are four suits, the number of weeks in a month.”

A slight squint was the only thing showing that Jack had noticed Will’s arrival when his gaze wandered over him. Without even pausing, Jack took a card and held it up: The Queen of Hearts.

”There are twelve picture cards, the number of months in a year.”

The card was slid back to the table and Jack lifted the stack of coins, dropped them back with a clink and held one between his thumb and middle finger.

”There are thirteen tricks,” Jack brought the coin next to his head as if he was listening what it had to say, before suddenly, the coin disappeared. The gasp from the crowd earned a wink from Jack, the story moving on like nothing had happened.

”The number of weeks in a quarter. So you see, friends,” Jack cleared the cards back into a deck and tapped it with two fingers, underlining his words. ”That’s how my pack of cards serves me as a Bible, an Almanac and a Prayer Book."

The group of men started to move, some of them reaching for their pockets to pick up a coin or two to give the strange man with his even stranger stories, some of them in deep thought, some snorting contemptuously, before dissolving into their own ways.

One of the patrons still sitting around the table, one who seemed to have been captivated by the story and taken it to heart even more than the rest, suddenly looked up from his musings, noticing a miss; ”Hey, you left one out!”

Jack collected the coins coming from the listeners and paid little heed to the talker.

”Aye? And which one would that be?”

”You left out the Jack!”

Smiling politely along with silent ’Thank yous’ for every man kind enough to pay for a good tale, Jack pocketed his earnings and finally turned to the questioning man.

”The Jack,” Jack leaned forward and lift a point-making finger before adding ominously. ”The Jack, my good man, is the Devil.”

The flash of a golden grin that came after worked as a repellent and the man stood up hastily, nearly knocking his chair over in his rush to head towards the door. Enough signs of bad luck for one evening, better face his wife than the Devil before it was too late.

Will rose from his seating and approached Jack once the patrons had cleared.

Without a sound, Jack waved a hand to invite Will to sit, and finally took a good look at him, frowning, worried.

”You know, Will, you really haven’t changed one bit since I last saw you, at the helm of your very own ship, if me memory serves me right.”

Sitting opposite Jack, Will lowered his drink on the table, swept his eyes over the wall in indecision before looking into Jack’s and said nothing. Knowing the conversation was inescapable, not sure if he wanted to delay it or not, Will put his fingers around the string attached to the compass in his pocket and raised it up to be seen.

Stunned, frozen in the middle of putting his hat on, Jack’s eyes widened impossibly and his cheeks hollowed like he was stifling a scream. Slowly, minutely, Will laid the compass on the table, in time with Jack reversing his movement with his hat, both men gathering their hands to themselves, looking at each other expectantly, one in disbelief, the other stirred with relief.

Surprising himself maybe more than Jack, Will smiled, relaxed, and stroke his beardless chin with his palm.

”I guess that’s what happens when your heart if carved out, Jack. You stop aging. Can you imagine not having to shave in ten years?”

The sound that came out of Jack shot ice into Will’s stomach; a mix of a choked sob and a chuckle, the confusion of emotions knotted into a single, short chuff, the rest of it swallowed, then only noticeable by the water welling in Jack’s eyes.

Jack blinked rapidly and swallowed again, reached for the compass, sliding the pad of his finger over the edge of one side, careful as if it could bite at any moment and pulled his hand back. Holding his breath for a while, keeping his eyes closed as if steeling himself against a blow, Jack snatched the compass to himself.

To Will, he looked exhausted, a man who hadn’t slept in a year and was in desperate need of some shut-eye when Jack looked at Will again.

“Holy bugger William, where did you get it?” The whisper was barely loud enough to be audible, further confirming Will’s assessment of Jack’s predicament.

Thinking he could still feel the compass in his own hand, the almost burning-like sensation tingling in his fingers, Will briefly wished he’d never found it at all.

Trying to clear his own head of the haze that had settled in while watching Jack’s reaction, the otherworldly sense made familiar by his time facing desperation and destinies, Will indicated the barmaid for another drink for himself and Jack, schooling his features to appear calm in the face of a fate being fulfilled.

Once the drinks came, Will recounted his finding of the compass, leaving out his own struggle with his own mind, not telling a word how the compass needle had spun around, only to ultimately, inexorably, halt to point towards the open sea as Will watched and felt the ground fall from under him.

Jack regained his leisurely posture little by little as Will told Jack how he’d taken the compass home and shown it to his son. Will shared not a word though, of how he’d almost thrown the cursed curio into the waves before shoving it into his pocket, turning on a dime and almost running to the closest tavern.

By the time Will was explaining how the land sickness had taken him unawares, Jack was nodding along and grinning amiably, knowing full well what Will was talking about, sharing his own similar experiences, and somehow, in some unexplainable moment of ease, they were two old mates seeing each other again after a long time.

Feeling dizzy, were it because of the two shots of rum he’d imbibed on top of four decidedly not watered-down ales, or the fear of the upcoming moment he could not evade for much longer, Will called for another round of drinks for the two of them and realized Jack had his hand clasped over the compass, but he hadn’t opened it even for a peek.

On a second look, Will saw Jack’s fingers being pale around the tips, even as Jack was talking, telling how Will should never, ever trust a woman, especially if the bargain sounded too good to be true, since it probably wasn‘t.

Will couldn’t hold himself back any longer. At the risk of hurrying to the end of his wonderful feeling of camaraderie he hadn‘t had since he came ashore for good , Will glanced and lift his chin towards the tightly gripped box.

“How did you lose it?”

Contrary to what Will had expected, Jack’s smile turned into an amused smirk and he held a tankard up for a toast.

“To whores, Will, to whores and ladies alike, may the bloody wenches never get into their pretty little heads that they can take from Jack Sparrow and give nothing back.”

Unsure of what exactly he was drinking to, Will obligingly lift his drink and drank deep.

“Again, that is,” Jack said wiping his whiskers with his sleeve after putting down the tankard.

“William, you remember me saying, how you should never trust a woman, eh?”

Jack waited until apprehension rose over Will, and then nodded deep, pointing a finger to Will’s nose.

“Aye, you got it.“ Jack sighed, vaguely amused by his own thoughts, and continued; “Was just a few days after I’d left Tortuga, about a week after I’d watched that cur Barbossa sail away with my ship for the third time.” He paused to grab a pint from a tray before the serving girl had time to put it on the table, beaming at Will who’d wisely told the girl to keep the drinks flowing. “I took me humble vessel to Port Au Prince, thinking that’d be the next place the bastard would go to restock after the Turtle Island started to burn under his clawed hoofs - I swear Will, that man is the devil himself- “

Will took the opportunity to concur Jack with a lift of his drink, prompting Jack to take a long gulp of his own.

“Soon it appeared no one had seen the blighter, or me ship, and I got to drowning me sorrows.” For a moment Jack was lost in a thought, then brightened up again and downed a shot of rum.

“Anyway, that’s when this marvellous, apparition-like woman came to offer her soft consolation, if you take my meaning," Jack's hand followed an invisible curve in the air. "All girdled up, painted pretty, smelling of heaven, and a promise to take you there in her eyes, what was I to do, eh?” Will couldn’t wholeheartedly agree with Jack, but smiled understandingly nonetheless, again inspiring a lift of a mug and a long swig of the liquid from Jack before he got back on track.

“So there I was, with this angel-like creature draped on me arm, her price for the night muchly underbid for what I’d expected, hardly dared to haggle at all, and out from the house comes a quartetto with much sharper, pointier things than violins.”

Jack shifted on his seat, uneasy at the memory. “Wasn’t much to be done after that. The whore turned out to be a shill, working with the louts, and I weren’t in me best shape to face four geezers the size of a building - each, mind,“ Pausing to dry out his drink, Jack took the compass from the table and let it lay on his open hand.

“I was robbed Will. That’s all there is to it. Fooled and robbed and every possession I might’ve had was taken from me, comped with the catchy beat of fists to me jaw.”

Jack looked pointedly into Will’s eyes, the sound of his voice calming from angered to nigh on gentle. “And then…” he waved a hand in the air, an exclamation of all being gone. “Then I couldn’t find the Pearl again, Will.”

Will drew a lungful of air and let it out, then drew a breath again, gathered Jack’s hand holding the compass into his hands and enveloped them firmly before speaking.

“Jack. I’m sorry.”

The pain in Jack came forward in a violent shudder, preparatory to Will’s upcoming words.

“The Black Pearl is gone. She sunk seven years ago.”

a/n: The story Jack is telling in the beginning of the part is actually an old tale told in different languages, turned into songs and different versions, which all are true, of course.
- 8
- 9
- 10
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

Ordinary Man