"Mask and Mirror " (WIP)
folder
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,038
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult
Chapters:
4
Views:
1,038
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
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.
"Dance to the Next Sunrise"
Chapter 1- "Dance to the Next Sunrise"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Where lies the land to which the ship would go?
Far, far away is all her seamen know. ~Arthur Hugh Clough
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Despite being soaked to the skin from his swim to freedom, Jack stood at the wheel of The Black Pearl. Taking in a long breath he smiled. The sun was beginning its descent into the horizon and his gaze lingered in its direction. He’d seen the regions in the Far East beyond where the sun was now headed and yearned for a different destination. In what seemed another age, Gibbs had told tales of a sea guarded by men fiercer than any seen in the waters of the Caribbean or China. Over tankards of rum they’d speculated that this could only mean one thing, a vast treasure. According to rumor it was grander than anything any living man could imagine, which meant it was something Jack wanted to see.
While his mind wandered along on this new path, the needle of the compass swung in a hypnotizing pattern. The sights and sounds around him echoed what he had long savored from his dreams. The warm wooden wheel of The Black Pearl beneath his hand, the way she responded to his deft touch. Her bow cut through the waves, sending spray up into the air. This created a rainbow haze so brilliant it soon chased away any remainder of her dark miasma. From high in the rigging and through the ship came the pleasant din of the crew at work. Before he knew it he was humming along with that lovely tune Elizabeth had taught him. It was almost as though he had never gone, had simply been frozen in this one spot. As though, someone else had lived his past ten years.
He raised the compass to find that the needle now hovered in one place, the direction to the new adventure. Snapping it closed with purpose, he turned to see Gibbs approaching.
“What’ll be our new heading, Capt’n?” Gibbs asked.
“I’ve heard tell that Arabia is a fine place to search for new treasure,” Jack said lowering his voice in mock conspiracy.
“Ah, have you now?” The furrow between Gibbs gray brows eased just slightly as the familiar pattern of their conversation came back. Gibbs would ask Jack what nonsense was in between those ears knowing full well the answer could be dafter than the initial comment.
Jack drummed his fingers on the pommel of his sword. “I want to see one of those ‘ships of the desert’ you described.” Then he winked. “And make the acquaintance of some foreign lasses.”
“Just so long as you stay on the proper side of the Sultan’s blade,” Gibbs warned with a knowing look and smile.
Jack shook his head. “With this crew I’ve not a care, mate. The change of scenery will do us all a bit of good. And may the good Commodore enjoy chasing his tail here in these waters!”
“Aye, too bad we’ll miss that sight,” Gibbs chuckled.
“ I assure you, we will have more than enough to keep us occupied.” Jack paused a moment. “Now if you will be so kind as to keep our lady on her present heading I need to evaluate what still remains in my cabin.”
“Aye Captain,” Gibbs replied.
***************
Resting his hand on the door Jack realized he felt a bit apprehensive. The previous time spent as Barbossa’s captive had further stoked his fervor to reclaim his vessel. Long years of work combined with the manipulation of opportune moments had earned him the command of The Black Pearl and his private domain behind this door. It would seem that returning home was not going to be as easy as he’d heard. It was going to take time to re-acquaint himself.
On close examination he found little evidence that he had lived and worked in the Great Cabin. The dark gaudy trappings reflected Barbossa’s reign and he wanted to be rid of much of it, as soon as possible. Many of his books of prose and poetry were missing. Restocking could be done, however, there were a few items that he might have a harder time procuring without raising too many questions. He doubted the crew would understand his desire for recreational reading.
After a careful search in one of the cabinets, he came upon a familiar locked box hiding in the far recesses. He wondered if it would still hold what he’d long ago put inside. Setting it down on the table he reached up to the top of the shelf, behind the trim. At first all he did was stir up dust. But then his fingers hit upon a wooden peg, at the base of which lay a key. Lifting it off carefully he looked at it and smiled. Seemed his luck was good today.
With the audible click of the key turning the mechanism the luck became even more apparent, for inside were nestled a sextant, a square, several quills, an inkwell and ink. Underneath these was another item that he lifted out carefully and set down to examine. It was the logbook that he had kept of the ship’s daily activities. Turning through the pages, he was reminded of many details that had faded from his memory over time.
Some of the events were humorous, as when the goat and chickens got loose and required rescuing from the bay. Most of the entries were mundane, save for the last. It was not written in his hand, or in Barbossa’s. Just one line that scrawled along the page,
“May God Have Mercy”
Jack’s fingers traced the outline, as it seemed oddly familiar. He was perplexed and chilled by it, and stared at it while pondering its meaning. There was no date and those who would be making entries knew how to make them properly. As he wondered about this, he felt his eyes growing very tired. He laid the logbook down and placed his boot heels up on the edge of the table.
“For just a moment,” he thought as his head and shoulders sagged with weariness.
But, the past several days caught up to him, ensuring that the moment lasted well into the following morning.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Where lies the land to which the ship would go?
Far, far away is all her seamen know. ~Arthur Hugh Clough
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Despite being soaked to the skin from his swim to freedom, Jack stood at the wheel of The Black Pearl. Taking in a long breath he smiled. The sun was beginning its descent into the horizon and his gaze lingered in its direction. He’d seen the regions in the Far East beyond where the sun was now headed and yearned for a different destination. In what seemed another age, Gibbs had told tales of a sea guarded by men fiercer than any seen in the waters of the Caribbean or China. Over tankards of rum they’d speculated that this could only mean one thing, a vast treasure. According to rumor it was grander than anything any living man could imagine, which meant it was something Jack wanted to see.
While his mind wandered along on this new path, the needle of the compass swung in a hypnotizing pattern. The sights and sounds around him echoed what he had long savored from his dreams. The warm wooden wheel of The Black Pearl beneath his hand, the way she responded to his deft touch. Her bow cut through the waves, sending spray up into the air. This created a rainbow haze so brilliant it soon chased away any remainder of her dark miasma. From high in the rigging and through the ship came the pleasant din of the crew at work. Before he knew it he was humming along with that lovely tune Elizabeth had taught him. It was almost as though he had never gone, had simply been frozen in this one spot. As though, someone else had lived his past ten years.
He raised the compass to find that the needle now hovered in one place, the direction to the new adventure. Snapping it closed with purpose, he turned to see Gibbs approaching.
“What’ll be our new heading, Capt’n?” Gibbs asked.
“I’ve heard tell that Arabia is a fine place to search for new treasure,” Jack said lowering his voice in mock conspiracy.
“Ah, have you now?” The furrow between Gibbs gray brows eased just slightly as the familiar pattern of their conversation came back. Gibbs would ask Jack what nonsense was in between those ears knowing full well the answer could be dafter than the initial comment.
Jack drummed his fingers on the pommel of his sword. “I want to see one of those ‘ships of the desert’ you described.” Then he winked. “And make the acquaintance of some foreign lasses.”
“Just so long as you stay on the proper side of the Sultan’s blade,” Gibbs warned with a knowing look and smile.
Jack shook his head. “With this crew I’ve not a care, mate. The change of scenery will do us all a bit of good. And may the good Commodore enjoy chasing his tail here in these waters!”
“Aye, too bad we’ll miss that sight,” Gibbs chuckled.
“ I assure you, we will have more than enough to keep us occupied.” Jack paused a moment. “Now if you will be so kind as to keep our lady on her present heading I need to evaluate what still remains in my cabin.”
“Aye Captain,” Gibbs replied.
***************
Resting his hand on the door Jack realized he felt a bit apprehensive. The previous time spent as Barbossa’s captive had further stoked his fervor to reclaim his vessel. Long years of work combined with the manipulation of opportune moments had earned him the command of The Black Pearl and his private domain behind this door. It would seem that returning home was not going to be as easy as he’d heard. It was going to take time to re-acquaint himself.
On close examination he found little evidence that he had lived and worked in the Great Cabin. The dark gaudy trappings reflected Barbossa’s reign and he wanted to be rid of much of it, as soon as possible. Many of his books of prose and poetry were missing. Restocking could be done, however, there were a few items that he might have a harder time procuring without raising too many questions. He doubted the crew would understand his desire for recreational reading.
After a careful search in one of the cabinets, he came upon a familiar locked box hiding in the far recesses. He wondered if it would still hold what he’d long ago put inside. Setting it down on the table he reached up to the top of the shelf, behind the trim. At first all he did was stir up dust. But then his fingers hit upon a wooden peg, at the base of which lay a key. Lifting it off carefully he looked at it and smiled. Seemed his luck was good today.
With the audible click of the key turning the mechanism the luck became even more apparent, for inside were nestled a sextant, a square, several quills, an inkwell and ink. Underneath these was another item that he lifted out carefully and set down to examine. It was the logbook that he had kept of the ship’s daily activities. Turning through the pages, he was reminded of many details that had faded from his memory over time.
Some of the events were humorous, as when the goat and chickens got loose and required rescuing from the bay. Most of the entries were mundane, save for the last. It was not written in his hand, or in Barbossa’s. Just one line that scrawled along the page,
“May God Have Mercy”
Jack’s fingers traced the outline, as it seemed oddly familiar. He was perplexed and chilled by it, and stared at it while pondering its meaning. There was no date and those who would be making entries knew how to make them properly. As he wondered about this, he felt his eyes growing very tired. He laid the logbook down and placed his boot heels up on the edge of the table.
“For just a moment,” he thought as his head and shoulders sagged with weariness.
But, the past several days caught up to him, ensuring that the moment lasted well into the following morning.