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Author of 44 Stories |
Yes, yes, I know every man and his bloody monkey has done one of these, but I really wanted to do one of my own, so bear with me.
The words rung in her ear like some sort of mantra trying to convince her that she’d done the right thing. That she shouldn’t be sorry. That leaving Jack to face the grim fate of death was the right thing to do. She tried to remember she was a pirate now and not Ms Swann, the Governor’s daughter. She was a cold-hearted pirate. A pirate that had condemned a man to death. Damned a good man eternity in a place worse than Hell itself.
“Where’s Jack?” Elizabeth turned to the distant, unfeeling voice that spoke in her left ear. Where was Jack? Not among them. That was for sure. However, instead of replying with an answer which would surely condemn her to death, she went for a blatant lie.
“He elected to stay behind to give us a chance.” Her voice was cold and heartless. Her eyes were stony. She turned away at the look of pain on Will’s face. He knew. Had he seen anything? Elizabeth scoffed. Who was she kidding? He had to have seen it. It was the only logical explanation as to why he was being so insensitive. God, what had she done for things to end up this way?
Oh yeah.
She’d killed Captain Jack Sparrow.
As the boat moved further towards land, she took one last look back, along with the rest of the remaining crew, to watch the ship go down. To watch Jack go down. She could feel the mood in the longboat suddenly go from desperate to sombre. There was no hope remaining.
“I’m not sorry.”
She kept repeating the words in her head, trying to tackle the tiny voice in the back of her mind that protested. It had been the only way. She would not feel guilty about making Jack repay his debt. It was the right thing to do. Somewhere in the back of her conscience, Elizabeth pictured her father telling her that murder was never the right thing to do.
He knew nothing about being a pirate.
She looked at Gibbs and saw the pain and anguish. She looked at the rest of them…Pintel, Ragetti, Marty and Mr Cotton. They all looked shocked and disbelieving, as if expecting the great Captain Jack to suddenly rise form the remains of The Pearl and shout something about the bloody rum being gone.
They reached Tia Dalma’s and no-one had spoken a word since the incident that afternoon. Will hadn’t even looked at her, let alone tried to speak to her. Elizabeth sighed. She wouldn’t have spoken to herself if she were him either. It couldn’t have looked good, seeing Jack and her like that. The only reason she’d done it at all was to give them a chance at surviving the Cracken. It was funny how the definition of “them” didn’t include Jack anymore.
“I’m not sorry”
It was as if she could think of nothing else. In time, Elizabeth was sure she would grow to believe it. She’d learn to forgive herself. Let go of the guilt that was slowly consuming her. It was already eating away at her, not hours after she sentenced Jack to his death.
“Against de cold and de sorrow.” She saw Tia Dalma’s face soaked in candlelight, holding a tray with some sort of drink on it. She took one without a smile or thanks and held it in her hand listening to everyone else pay homage to Jack. She hesitantly raised her hand and said the first words that came to mind other than ‘I’m not sorry’.
“He was a good man.” Elizabeth averted her eyes from Will’s piercing ones. He no longer looked angry. He looked defeated. Just like she felt. Shutting her eyes for a second, she held the cup to her lips and lowered it again once she’d determined the scent of it.
Rum.
She could picture Jack finishing the mug in one gulp, his desire for the drink taking over his inhibitions, adding the slight sway to his walk and slur to his speech. She could picture him hysterically asking her why the rum was always gone. She shook her head slightly at the images and reminded her self that she wasn’t sorry. Not in the slightest.
“If there was anything could be done to bring him back…” She heard Will’s voice. She barely raised her head in acknowledgment. “Elizabeth.” She couldn’t look at him. Years ago, if he’d spoken her name like that, she’d have almost fainted in giddiness, but now it seemed so insignificant.
“Would you do it? Hm?” Tia Dalma interrupted whatever sorry speech Will was about to make. Elizabeth silently thanked the over-dramatic witch.
“What would you…hm?” She looked up from her untouched mug of rum and stared at Tia.
“What would any of you be willing to do? Hm?” Elizabeth vaguely wondered whether the witch was insane. It would certainly have been a possibility.
“Would you sail to de ends of de eart’ and beyond to fetch back witty Jack and him precious Pearl?” Elizabeth’s eyes widened. Bring back Jack?
“Aye” Not surprisingly, Gibbs was the first to speak up. He was followed by numerous calls of “aye!” from Pintel, Ragetti and Mr Cottons parrot. Elizabeth didn’t even crack a smile.
“Yes.” She supposed it was her mind’s way of opposing being a pirate. Opposing Jack’s last statement. Rivalling what she’d done.
Even if they did manage to bring him back from…what was it again? Oh yeah, the ‘end of the Earth,’ Jack and her would never be the same. The guilt would still be there, regardless of whether he was alive or not. He’d hate her. She’d be lucky if he even granted her aboard The Pearl. In her thoughts, Elizabeth barely even registered Tia Dalma’s new melodramatic speech.
“…then you will need a captain that knows those waters.” She got up as she heard heavy footsteps. A few seconds later, the face of their new captain appeared.
Barbossa?
A few moments later, she is looking directly into the intense brown eyes of the delusional version of Jack Sparrow, trying to convince him that she and the rest of his remaining crew are not a hallucination. It hurts her more than anything to see him like this. To hear him talk as if they are merely figments of his ageing imagination.
“Why should I side with any of you? Four of you have tried to kill me in the past, one of you succeeded.” He gestured to Elizabeth and she felt her stomach drop as everyone’s eyes turned upon her.
“Oh, she's not told you. You'll have loads to talk about while you're here then.” She could see the anger and hatred in the people’s eyes. She wanted to hit Jack for letting it slip. Still, something told her she deserved it. She deserved the stares and avoidance. After all, she had killed Captain Jack Sparrow.
“Captain.” It was the first word she’d spoken to him since he’d come back from the locker.
“My tremendous sense of the female mind once again tells me you are troubled. Is it the whole marr-i-age thing again?” Elizabeth let out a bitter laugh.
“I don’t think there’s going to be a marriage anymore, Jack.”
“Captain Jack. Why do people always forget about the ‘Captain’ part?” He grumbled and shook his head. “Did you find out dear William really is a eunuch?” She glared.
“I might’ve if he even talked to me anymore.” Jack offered her a bottle of rum (which she gladly accepted) and turned to face her.
“That’s too bad.” He shrugged. “Too busy with dreams of saving his dear old dad?” Elizabeth sighed.
“More like too busy with the fact that I fed you to the Cracken and lied to him about it.” Immediately the mood darkened.
“Ah.” Jack twitched his lip in annoyance at the subject and took a swig of rum from the bottle that he’d given her. “Well he’s just jealous because he didn’t get to kiss me.” And despite the heavy topic and dark surroundings, Elizabeth laughed.
“So that’s it? You’re not going to yell at me or anything?” Jack raised his eyebrows and took a swig of rum.
“Luv, if I yelled at someone every time they tried to kill me, I’d ‘ave lost me voice a long time ago.”
“But Jack-”
“You did what you had to do Luv. You did what a pirate would do.” If Jack felt any anger towards her, he hid it well. In fact, Elizabeth swore she could see a proud smirk on his face.
“Still not sorry?” He asked, taking yet another swig of rum. She answered out of pure instinct.
“No.” She’d told it to herself for weeks.
“Good. Pirates never are.” And with that, Captain Jack Sparrow got up and swaggered over to the wheel of his ship. He was home.