A/N: Alright, just to let everyone know, this is the beginning of what I anticipate to be a VERY LONG story. I am basically rewriting Dead Man's Chest with Anamaria playing a very vital role, as I was extremely disappointed in her absence in the past movies. It also occurred to me that a lot of the "empowered woman" things that Elizabeth did would have made ahellauva lot more sense if they had been done by Anamaria, so that might give a bit of insight as to the direction of this story. This is Dead Man's Chest revisited, with a much cooler leading lady (sorry Elizabeth fans. I hope this won't dissuade you from reading onward.)
Speaking of which- Because of Anamaria playing somewhat of a substitute to Elizabeth, I have yet to decide how much of role Elizabeth with actually be playing in this version of things. Understanding DMC is a challenge in-and-of itself for me, so I can only imagine what rewiring the plot lines will be like. However, I can guarantee a treat for all of those Anamaria fans who missed seeing in her in the past two movies. If you count yourself into this group, I guarantee you'll enjoy this story (or such is my hope).
This first chapter is a prologue to the events in Dead Man's Chest, and basically explains what happened to Anamaria/where she was in the beginning of the movie. Don't forget to let me know what you think of it so far.
Disclaimer- I don't own Pirates, and I'm not making any money of off this. I do kinda wish I owned Johnny Depp, though. =)
"Its not that impressive of a thing."
Mr. Gibbs had a delightful gift for impassivity, particularly when intoxicated. Given that this state of affairs was somewhat perpetual for him, he often gave the impression of a naturally hard-to-please gent. And despite how much he had grown to admire Anamaria, he wouldn't spare such apathy for her new ship.
Jack wondered if it wasn't, in this case, an attempt to make them both feel better about the Pearl in lieu of Anamaria's seemingly superior Rising Sun. What was more, both men knew as well as any of the crew that she could have afforded it, having saved her shares of booty instead of blowing each steal in Tortuga. But what topped the whole thing off was that she commandeered it on her lonesome. That was enough to make any of them feel foolish for ever doubting her abilities on account of her gender. Jack had known from the start that she was not to be underestimated, yet, after her having pulled off such a feat, he realized he had been doing so from the beginning.
"I suppose one can't say so knowingly until one has seen the Sun on the waters. Even so, I would not be hesitant to say she has surpassed us."
Mr. Gibbs scoffed at his Captain's resignation, taking another generous swig from his flask.
"The Pearl is the fastest ship on these waters. You of all people should know that."
Jack could only smirk, focusing his attention on the sight of Anamaria storming around the Sun's deck, forcefully commanding her new crew with the power of a thousand year's experience as Captain. She had had no trouble enlisting any one of them, either.
"A ship's only as good as her Captain, Mr. Gibbs."
When he had asked her if she would miss the crew she rolled her eyes, sighed, and threw her hands in the air, nothing less than her typical response to his obvious absurdity. Of course she wouldn't miss the crew, she had assured him. She'd have plenty of Mr. Cotton's, Mr. Gibbs', and Martys' one her new crew to last her a lifetime. When he had asked her if she might miss him, she avoided the question. But he wasn't going to let her weasel out of it.
"Come on then, love," he purred, a tone that always worked with the opposite sex. "Say you won't miss ol' Jackie. I won't believe it until you say it."
"What's to miss? Your lying? Selfishness? Always putting yourself before your crew?"
He grinned sheepishly, having anticipated such a response.
"Pirate." He mentioned simply in reminder.
Having heard enough, Anamaria finished her portion of rum and stood from the desk in his stateroom, prepping to say something that was, undoubtedly, very important.
"You've never been any good for me, Jack Sparrow. Or any of us, I might say, but it would be less than genteel of me to speak for others- another lesson you'd do well to learn."
He propped his boots up on the wooden surface, leaning backwards in amusement, ready to watch the intrigue unravel.
"I won't miss having to watch my own back, knowing my Captain won't be there, despite the fact that as his first mate, I had hauled him through every danger. I won't miss wondering when my Captain will get his next foolish idea, and send us all sailing towards a destination of ambiguous purpose. I won't miss splitting what little is left of the loot with the rest of the crew after the Captain has taken far more than his fair share-"
"A fine time for you to air your grievances, Ana. Is this why you are leaving? Because dear old Jack has done you wrong as a Captain?"
His voice was still riddled with a sickening amount of delight at her frustration, for reasons that were, to her, indeterminate. Was it an effort to lighten the situation, him knowing how much contempt she had built up for him over the years? Or was it simply a lack of insight into her feelings? Was it to him, as most things were, a game of little consequence or meaning? She presumed the latter.
"No," she corrected firmly. "I have to go. My time is here has come to an end."
True, her time serving on the Pearl had reached its conclusion, but she also meant the finalization of words for whatever connection she had with Jack. For too long she had known him, too long had she expected more from him, and too long she had been short-changed, not unlike the many whose lives were infiltrated by the pirate. For years she had thought there might have been more to him than anyone else could see, a certain spirit or fire that was enough to invest all personal trust and loyalties in. She had thought that, perhaps, they were more alike than they'd fancy to think, and she didn't mind this idea perhaps being the case. But even if Jack Sparrow had some sort of intangible half that was trustworthy, loyal, and by all rights, more like her, it had yet to show its face for any notable amount of time. For this reason, she had to leave. She had to extract Jack Sparrow from her life like a leech from her vein.
"Very well, then. We both know you had wanted this for some time- a ship to call your own, a crew to command. But know that you will be missed here, sorely."
If only he knew, she remembered thinking as she disembarked the Pearl that evening for the very last time. If he had known that a chance for her to see the better side of him might have lead her to postpone her anticipated destiny for a few more years in his service, things might have been drastically different. If she was given even just an inkling that Jack was more than surface level, she would have known that was worth something. She would have stayed, at least a little while longer. Long enough, at least, to properly settle her feelings about him.
But fate had other plans, it seemed, and so his lack of apparent personal depth led her to let the whole tangled mess go- Pearl, Jack, crew and all. There was no use in hanging on to that which is breaking, so better to get her own ship, as she had dreamed, and start anew on the sea. Jack was never going to see anything past his own reflection, or so it seemed. Enough of her time had been wasted figuring this out, after all.
But perhaps, if he had known, things would have been different.
But despite herself, she didn't have the heart to tell him.