Hi, everyone! Thanks for taking the time to come read - well, at least check out this wonderful tale of plundering pirates! This is my first Pirates fic, so any feedback would be appreciated, just please be nice about it.
Disclaimer: The Mouse owns all! Although, I wish I owned Ragetti. He's my favourite. ^_^
Chapter I: Ponderings of Pirates
A full Caribbean wind filled the sails of Captain Jack Sparrow's small dingy. His Jolly Roger flapped lazily in the breeze. The captain studied the quivering arrow of his compass and adjusted his sail accordingly causing a gust of wind to hit him squarely in the face. Amazing that he'd taken wind for granted until the Locker. Now he was free.
But for how long?
A lifetime was long, but eternity was even longer. To die was an experience he did not want to face again. Immortality was the highest on his list of reshuffled priorities, and in just a little while he could check that off and move on to other things like getting the Pearl back.
Jack flashed his golden grin as he thought of it. The Immortal Captain Jack Sparrow, the Last Pirate.
At least he had the charts. If Barbossa was looking for the Fountain of Youth, the double-crosser would not find it. Jack possessed the only map to the fountain; moreover, he had his compass. Barbossa only had the Pearl, which was to be repossessed at a later date. Jack smirked and took a swallow of rum. The bottle was nearly empty, much to his chagrin; however, it was just another thing to add to the lengthening list.
"Drink up me hearties, yo ho."
Smirking, he remembered the song's teacher. Elizabeth, not such a delicate flower that one. He briefly thought of her, and he wondered how she was making out; then, he went back to his own thoughts, his navigation, and his rum.
To leave a man without a ship once could be construed as cruel. But to do it twice and one might consider the person heartless. Barbossa, while cruel, was not heartless. He had a heart; it was just black as coal, and he had little reason to be compassionate.
This time, he reasoned, he had left him in Tortuga with a dingy. Jack was perfectly capable and resourceful enough to figure something out.
Barbossa smirked, satisfied with himself. Although Jack had taken the charts, Barbossa knew enough about the legend to know of the fountain's approximate location. He had set a course himself, and he trusted no other with the helm. He was not sure how loyal Jack's crew was, and he was not about to take any chances. He relaxed a little behind the helm. He could see the crew scurrying around, swabbing decks, and securing the riggings. This was what he lived for, the wind in his face and the spray of the sea in the air. Barbossa turned the wheel two points. Jack leapt down from the rigging and on to the captain's shoulder.
Soon immortality would be in his grasp again. Except this time, there would be no curse, no skeletal consequences. He could eat; he could feel the wind on his skin. Aye, it was good to be alive again, but to be better than alive, to be immortal, that was his single wish, the thing that occupied his every thought. Little Jack was still undead. Why shouldn't the master be as his pet?
Just a bit more to go until the Pearl reached the tip of Florida. With any luck, they would beat Jack to the location what with them having the Pearl and all. Then, the dreams of every man would be granted to them – immortality, the ability to live forever.