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Things Long Since Past
BY: Drachengreif*** Jacks eyes rested on the child nestled into the crook of his arm. The little boy was barely a month old and quite a wonder to Jack, who'd never expected to be able to hold him. William's and Elizabeth's son. William Jackson Turner. Quite ironic, actually, that they'd named the little one after him of all people. How they'd gotten that idea he'd never know. And they'd never know why he'd laughed when they told him. His memories drifted to another child. A little boy, still slightly mewling from the fright of getting cut into his soft heel. The babe's tearful eyes seeking out hers for reassurance and comfort. She'd softly sung him to sleep, cradling him to her breast where he would never sleep again, her other hand still holding a vial containing the blood she'd so desperately needed. She'd just been one of many homeless children, fighting for their lives in the streets of one of the many ports in the Caribbean. She'd never known her name, or when and where she'd been born. She could only guess that her mother had been one of the many whores waiting to pleasure sailors and pirates alike. All she'd ever known was the fight for her pitiful life, the crude language of the townspeople on her lips and whatever she'd been able to steal in her pockets. Early on she'd learned that life was safer as a boy, so she stopped being the nameless girl and became Jonah, member of Salt's gang. She'd never known what true happiness was. But if anybody had asked her she'd have answered that happiness was listening to the ocean's voice, hearing her countless tales and watching that beckoning horizon. Knowing it waited for her to just take it, like she did with the purses of unsuspecting townsfolk. The first time she'd laughed was when she finally moved towards it, having been hired as a cabin-boy onto a merchant's vessel. All she'd ever wished for was that freedom, to come and go as she pleased, to sail the ocean, to feel the ship move under her and know it carried her safely. But she was never entirely safe, she was always in danger. If one of the men were to find out she was a girl and told the captain then the best she could hope for was simply being thrown over board. She'd always hidden, never being able to get closer to anybody, never feeling completely free… Until one night the sea told her its greatest secret. This was the second time she laughed. All she'd needed were a few drops of blood from a member of her family. Her being an orphan she had none. What she had was a ship full of males. Well… Jacks hand drifted down where, just beneath the waistband, an old scar lay, cut cleanly across his stomach. ***Flashback*** Jack had been changing into a dry shirt after they'd finally been far enough from Port Royal. Bootstrap's boy had watched him curiously and suddenly asked about the deepest scar in his body, remarking that it looked as if somebody had cut him open. Jack smirked. "Somebody did." Closing up the shirt he started hunting down dry pants. "But why?" "To get a treasure." Success, he'd found something that looked like it might fit him for the time being. "What kind of treasure is worth cutting anybody open?" Will was sounding distinctly put out. "The greatest treasure I've ever held in my hands." Jack wasn't even aware of the soft smile that crept onto his face, but William noticed it, and wondered. ***End Flashback*** They had been forced to cut the child out of her, her hips being too narrow to let it through. And finally she'd held him, her son. Her only child. He'd been a beautiful babe, with very light skin, but with her dark eyes and hair. Still something told that later on he'd very much look like his father, which was just as well, since she had had never any intention of keeping him. Instead she'd let the midwife hand him to his father's wife as soon as she'd been able to let go of him. The woman was barren and had been glad to finally hold her husband's child in her arms, even if it wasn't her own. Maybe her lover had known whose child it was the moment he'd lain eyes on his boy, maybe he'd never seen the child. She didn't even know his name and never tried to find out. There was no reason to, the boy was well cared for and she had what she'd needed most. The one thing to bring her the freedom she'd craved since the moment she understood how easily lost it was. And one stormy night she wove her own magic safely embraced in the oceans folds. The sea to change and blood of kin to anchor the magic for as long as a member of her family walked the world. Months later a pirate ship found a man drifting in the ocean. A man nearly too beautiful for his gender, slender and agile and with quick wits that seemed oddly shattered by the sun. Still he was a good sailor so they accepted him and called him Jack. This Jack had an astounding knack for not only getting into trouble, but also coming out of it unscathed and smelling like a rose, or rather smelling like rum, a beverage he highly appreciated. And one day Jack came upon a ship. A half-rotten wreck, its name barely readable anymore. The 'Sparrow'. And he took the ship and its name. And he brought the ship back to the sea, changed inside and out and gave her a new name in exchange for the one he'd taken. The 'Black Pearl'. In her hull he'd carved ancient magic, to make her strong, to make her fast, to let her endure the strongest storms, to make her fly the sea alongside her captain's spirit. This ship became home and to make sure he'd always find it again, he made a compass which didn't show north, but led him where his heart belonged. In the end Captain Jack Sparrow made only one mistake, he trusted the wrong man, and paid dearly for it. He lost his home, his 'Pearl' and was forced to once again sail other ships, until the opportune moment to take back his own presented itself. In all this he forgot that he'd ever been anybody else, that there'd ever been a squirming child in his arms staring at him with his own eyes, tears Jack had caused running down the soft cheeks. Yes, he'd completely forgotten about the child, only remembering him in his dreams from time to time. Dreams that fled him in the morning, leaving only a shade of melancholy that was quickly banished with the first touch of the helm, the wind in his face and the taste of rum on his tongue. Then, one day, the opportunity came. Came in the form of a young hot-blooded blacksmith and his lost ladylove. The boy had seemed familiar from the first moment, but the differences had confused Jack. He'd simply been unable to place that face. Until the boy had told him his name, then it had fallen into place. Yes, now he remembered that face, and those eyes. The same eyes that stared back at him whenever he looked into a mirror. He'd nearly laughed then. In twenty years he hadn't thought of his son, and now they stood opposite each other, the bars between them. His old lover had done well by the boy, or maybe the boy had done well for himself? He'd have to find out. But first it seemed they had to go on a wild chase around the Caribee, hunting down a girl with the same knack for getting into trouble he himself owned. In the end his decision to help the whelp had given him back his ship, but had taken away part of his heart, which was held irrevocably by William, and now also by William's son. Too bad none of them would ever understand that the reason he'd laughed was because they'd named his grandson for him. He had no intention to tell. "What are you grinning about, Jack?" Elizabeth soft voice brought him out of his musings. "Things long since past." Old memories shone clearly in the pirates eyes, easily seen for anybody who knew how to look. Sadly Elizabeth was unable to read them. So she reacted only to the mans words. "They must have been good. You look happy." Never knowing… Jack inclined his head as if to agree, looking once again at the babe in his arms, and felt the past recede, making place for the now. What was there not to be happy about? |
