Fate Intervenes

Fate Intervenes: 13/?
by GylzGirl
Rated PG-13

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CHAPTER THIRTEEN: The Talon's Reach


The silhouette of the Black Pearl sailing off toward the horizon had been swallowed up by distance and the smoke of the fire going on behind him. Jack stared out at the water. He reckoned it had been an hour since the sight of his ship had disappeared completely. Jack had always been a clever man. He had always been able to rely on that trait. But now, sitting bruised and bloody in the sand while Gabriel Chase sailed off with Jack's wife on Jack's ship; he was fresh out of ideas.

Suddenly, in the water, a large sea turtle surfaced. A strange smile spread across Jack's face. He stood quickly, paying no heed to his protesting body, and ran out into the water. Once deep enough, he dove into the ocean and swam after the turtle. He came up under the unsuspecting sea creature and grabbed hold of it. It ducked its head inside its shell as Jack turned it around, inspecting it, trying to figure out how he was going to use it to escape. While he was man-handling the turtle, it poked its head out and snapped at Jack's fingers. Jack yelped and dropped the turtle back into the water. With surprising speed, the turtle swam off, leaving Jack floating in the water, scowling after it with his bleeding fingers in his mouth. He pulled his fingers out of his mouth and shook them, then put them under the water.

"Bloody sea turtles. If I ever see Joshamee Gibbs again, I'll skin him alive."

Jack swam back in to shore. He walked slowly onto the beach; his battered body now bearing his own weight instead of the water doing it for him. He wasn't sure if he was all that hurt physically, or if the pain of losing Elizabeth to that monster, and his utter impotence at being able to help her, were somehow magnifying any real damage to his body. He sat down on the sand and once again cast his gaze out to sea; maybe a larger sea turtle, or perhaps an even-tempered dolphin, could be a way back to Liz. Hell, as long as he was wishing, why not a fully equipped ship, an able-bodied crew, and weapons with varying degrees of gruesome purposes, all of which he intended to make good use of on the body of one Gabriel Chase.

"Jack!"

He heard a voice in the air. He arched a disbelieving eyebrow and threw a look around him. He could see no one but that was hardly surprising. Though the fire on the island seemed to have run its course, the smoke still hung heavy in the air. It reminded Jack of London fog, back in the days when he was a merchant sailor and still had a notion that his life would be simple and dull.

"Jack Sparrow!"

He decided he definitely heard his name called that time; sounded male, sounded close. With no weapons at his disposal, he had a thought of running back into the water just to have some place to conceal himself until he determined if the voice belonged to friend or foe.

Jack stood, making his choice. He'd rather meet this thing head on; even if he got himself killed in the process, at least it would put an end to knowing that he couldn't save his Elizabeth. He turned toward the smoke and began to walk.

Jack stopped as a dark figure formed in the smoke. It got clearer and more defined. Then someone stepped out of the smoke.

Jack gasped and then broke into an unbridled grin. "Joshamee Gibbs, as I live and breathe." Suddenly invigorated, he trotted up to his first mate and grabbed him by the shoulders. "Face of an angel you've got there, mate. Anyone ever told you that?"

Gibbs blinked at him. "Not lately. Lord be, Jack. It's good to see ye."

"How did you find me?"

"Are ye joking? Fire this size? Practically could have tracked you all the way from La Vega."

Jack's mind flashed involuntarily to another little island, a headstrong Governor's daughter, and more than a dozen cases of rum what gave its life for a noble cause. "There'll be no living with her after this," he'd said. Oh God, if he'd only known.

"Jack?" Gibbs snapped his fingers in front of Jack's face.

Jack blinked and smiled. "Sorry mate, miles away. Now, where's the ship?"

"The longboat's just up along the beach here and the Ophelia is docked but a short row out."

"The Ophelia?"

"Well, back in La Vega, I saw the Talon come upon the Pearl in the wee morning hours. By the time I’d wrangled enough of the crew together, both ships were gone. Being pirates, we barrowed a merchant ship to go after the blighter."

Jack's eyes widened. "You mean to tell me some merchant garbage scow caught up to me Pearl?"
"No, Jack, some merchant garbage scow caught up to the Talon."

Jack smiled. "Ah, that's fine then." He motioned for Gibbs to lead the way and they began to walk. "Where is the Pearl?"

"On its way to Port Royal with Chase and Elizabeth on board," Gibbs said.

"How do ye know all this?"

Gibbs turned and smiled at Jack. "Chase’s first mate was left in command of the Talon and were very talkative just before his untimely demise. He also mentioned that the Talon had been left behind in the vicinity of the island because they were to let you stew for a day and then come back and finish ye off."

A sparkle settled in Jack's eyes then. "With the Talon expected, we ought to be able to sail right into Port Royal without any problems." They began to walk again.

"Where do ye think he'd take Miss Elizabeth?"

"Governor's mansion. With me terrible death, no doubt he's got a notion to be marrying her again. He'll want the fanciest wedding he can throw and the biggest house on the island to be living in. That'd be the mansion," Jack said as they reached the longboat and climbed in.

"When we get aboard," Jack told Gibbs. "Have the men dress in the clothes of the Ophelia's crew. We've got to pass for sailors and not pirates to get through town without incident and make it to the mansion."

"Jack?" Gibbs got a worried look as he began to row.

"Yes?"

"We don't have to bathe do we?"

Jack smiled. "Wet some rags and do your best. Sarah Larrouse would be heartsick if ye took a bath somewhere else, and unaccompanied by her person." He thought he saw Gibbs blush, but it was rather hard to tell under the layer of dirt on the man's skin.

As they began to clear the smoke from the island, two ships loomed into view; the Ophelia and the Talon. "Assign a skeleton crew to the Ophelia. We may need the reinforcement before tomorrow is done."

"Aye, Jack," Gibbs said as he rowed.
They closed the distance between themselves and the Talon. Jack judged it an ugly boat for an ugly man, but he would gladly sail the vile vessel if it got him to Elizabeth in time.


******

Elizabeth appeared on deck in her soiled pink dress just as Port Royal came into view. Gabriel Chase walked to her with his nose wrinkled in disapproval. "For goodness sake, Elizabeth, put on something clean and presentable and change out of that filthy thing."

She smiled pleasantly. "Does it displease you? Surely you must realize that if it would keep your hands off of me, I would gladly bathe head-to-toe in shite."

He grabbed her arm and jerked her hard to his side. His face was a mask of barely contained rage as he brought it close to hers. "Make no mistake my girl, with Jack no longer around to torment, our marriage and consummation is merely a personal satisfaction I mean to have; one that could easily turn distasteful with the continued running of your insolent mouth. You have never been more disposable to me than you are now." A cool smile now lit his features. "You will change this dress by the time we dock or I will change you myself."

Chase released her and walked away. Elizabeth casually slid her hand up to her biceps to rub at where Chase's fingers had no doubt left fresh bruises on her. She chewed on her lip in an effort to keep away the tears that were threatening. Elizabeth was angry. She didn't care if Chase saw her anger. She hoped he did in fact. But she was afraid too, and she knew she could not afford to allow him to know that. She was afraid for herself but mostly, she was scared for Jack. He might not be dead but he'd been beaten unconscious and marooned on a burning island…alone. Their futures, once more entwined, both looked bleak to say the least.

Elizabeth walked to the rail and looked out at the water. For a fleeting moment, she considered leaping over the side and drinking in large gulps of the ocean to speed her on her way. If she hadn't been so certain of Jack being alive, she might have done it. But she was sure. He was alive and would be moving mountains to reach her. The odds were against him, but she knew that to be when he was at his most surprising. It was her duty to make sure he had a living wife to return to, no matter what she had to endure.

Port Royal grew closer and closer. Elizabeth's eyes wandered over to the bell at the top of the cliff at the fort. She remembered back to a fateful day when she couldn’t breathe and fell to her death in the water below. How a beautiful pirate named Jack Sparrow brought her to life, a new woman; Elizabeth Sparrow. Because, as time proved out, she was his from the moment he snatched her from the bottom of the ocean.

Elizabeth quickly wiped away an escaped tear and turned back towards her cabin. She smiled a little when she remembered that she had another pink dress inside. She would wear it for Jack and with a little luck; he would find her in time to see her in it.

******

Night began to fall aboard the Talon. Jack was nearly alone on deck and the few hands milling about knew better than to disturb his melancholy. Nighttime on deck had become their time, his and Elizabeth’s; a time for them to discover each other, body and soul; to share each other intimately, in every sense of that word. He realized he would never see another full moon without thinking of her naked beauty. And no matter what had been done to her by the time he reached her, he knew he would always see her that way. Even when they were so old they had to push back wrinkles to find parts of their bodies they could easily locate today, he would always see her as a beauty, lit by the moon and stars, dancing on the deck of the Pearl as they sailed the oceans of the world.

His hands caressed the rough wood of his enemy's wheel. Jack's stomach turned at the thought of Chase touching Elizabeth with equal intimacy. "You listen to me, ye worm-ridden barnacle barge," Jack whispered to the wheel. "Your master is scum and he will watch you burn in the harbor of Port Royal. And if he's hurt me Lizzie before I get there, I'll tie him to the mast before I light you afire. Either way, he's not leaving Port Royal alive. Even if I hang for the pleasure of killing him, his torment of Lizzie will end."

Jack could have sworn he felt the deck shudder beneath his feet. He smiled, feeling mildly better concerning what he was about to do. He caught Gibbs' attention and motioned for him to take the wheel. The older man approached, dressed in the comparatively finer materials a sailor on a rich man's vessel would wear and indeed had until he'd either been locked in the brig or killed with the first mate Azevedo. Gibbs' hair was combed and the streaks of dirt which usually adorned his face with the regularity of a nose or a chin had been wiped clean.

"So this is what ye would have looked like if you'd stuck to the Royal Navy, eh?"

Gibbs grinned. "What might have been, I suppose. What do ye think?"

Jack smirked. "I think I’m lucky ye decided to turn pirate." Gibbs smiled proudly. "And so is the Royal Navy." Gibbs mouth opened in surprise. Jack merely walked away, towards Chase's cabin.

Once inside, Jack picked through the clothes his crew had piled on the bed for him to choose from. Aside from the fact that Chase was more likely to recognize clothes pilfered from his own wardrobe, there was just no possible way that garments made to fit Chase's beefy frame were going to pass for something owed by someone as lean as Jack. They'd had to ransack all the crew quarters to find things for him to choose from. He pulled out breeches, shirt, waistcoat, boots and topcoat and piled them in a chair by the bed.

He stripped naked, even removing the red scarf from his head, and walked to the table that housed a washbasin, towel, cake of soap and razor. He dipped the towel in the water and wiped his body down. Dunking the towel again, he angled a nearby mirror until he could see his face. Concentrating, he brought the towel to his face and wiped away the ever-present kohl around his eyes. The clean face now staring back at him had, in recent years, only seen the light of day in-between applications or in the rare instances when cunning plans demanded a more conventional appearance. Jack noted the first signs of wrinkles at the corners of his eyes. He was sure those hadn't been there the last time he'd had occasion to view bare skin in that area. He shrugged. Even Jack Sparrow, whom death had turned a kind eye to, couldn't escape the clutches of time.

He took a deep breath and picked up the razor from the side of the washbasin. Jack took one last glance at how he looked, and then promptly grabbed the ends of his beard-plaits. With a swift stroke of the blade, he sliced though the braids and dropped them to the floor. Next, he lathered his beard and moustache with the cake of soap and made quick work of them with the razor as well. He dampened the cloth once more and wiped his face clean. Again he looked in the mirror.

"Long time, no see," he said to the slightly more world-weary merchant sailor he saw looking back at him. Jack smiled. "I tell ye, mate. This must be love."

Jack crossed the room and dressed himself. He pulled his dreadlocks up atop his head and fastened them with a leather string. The remaining hair, he fixed firmly into a ponytail and tied in the back. He selected a hat from the bed and used it to help conceal the dreads. He sat on the chair and quickly pulled on the boots. Standing once more, he moved to where a pistol and a sheathed sword had been laid out on the bed for him. The pistol he slipped into his boot and the sword he threaded down the back of his shirt, tucking the bottom into the waistband of the breeches.

Jack strode out onto the deck and Gibbs was thankful he had the wheel to hold onto. "Well?" Jack said as he came to stand before his friend. He spun slowly in place and ended up facing Gibbs once more.

Gibbs smiled. "So this is what ye would have looked like if you'd stuck to the East India Company, eh?"

"Strange, isn't it? Staring down the path not taken and seeing that person staring right back?"

"Doppelgangers," Gibbs whispered, casting a furtive glance over his shoulder.

"Indeed," Jack said softly. "You have the wheel, Mr. Gibbs. Take us into Port Royal."

"Aye, Captain."

Jack walked to the rail. He smiled and closed his eyes as the sea spray touched his newly-bare face. He opened his eyes once more, looking toward where he knew Port Royal would appear come the morning light and whispered.

"Watch over her for me
That she may safely guarded be
Help her each lonely hour to bear
As I would, if I were there.
When she is sleeping watch her then
That fear may not her dream offend
Be ever near her through the day
Let none but goodness come her way.
Sweet faithful girl who waits for me
Beyond the wide and spacious sea
Be merciful, oh how I pray
Take care of her while I am away."

TBC: CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Slain


Poem is "A Sailor's Prayer" by Anonymous. I made a few tweaks to suit how Jack would recite it (IMHO)