FIC: Return of Post
Title: Signed, Sealed, Delivered, I’m Yours
Part: 2/5 - Return of Post
Author: miss_drea_fic
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Pairing: Jack/Will, Jack/Elizabeth, Will/Elizabeth
Rating: R
Summary: In the late 1800s, there was a town built upon the ocean, it was called Libertalia and William Turner thanked its creation with every breath he took as he walked on its decks.
Disclaimer: The Mouse owns it all.
Port of St. Kitts, 1732, April 4th
A-
I have a story to tell you. You might’ve thought you’d heard all the tales in the past month we spent in each others company. But there was one I didn’t tell you.
With your parting words still bouncing around between my ears, I feel like you’ve a right to know.
You, perhaps more than anyone.
My ship has been taken from me three separate times. Once from my foolish youth and stupidity to Hector Barbossa. That story you know. Sea turtles and all that rot.
The second by Davy Jones himself, ripped up right from underneath my feet. This story you know too. Your very ancestry lies in this tale. Hector unbound your darling mother and dropped us unceremoniously into a maelstrom. But I’m repeating myself.
The third and last time I lost my ship was again to Hector Barbossa. I was too wrapped up in forgetting the pat that I forgot even that.
Bloody moron, I am.
Thus, I commandeered a new ship, all right, a dingy, and set about my merry way. Of course, with Barbossa’s special maps. I was after the Ponce De Leon, for in it resided La Agua de Vida. The water of life. The fountain of youth.
The Immortal Captain Jack...well, you understand my point.
I searched high and low from the tip of the New World to the Bahamas and Bermuda. It was there that I found a strange occurrence. Inside of this small triangular patch of water was an island. And island, of course, that can only be found by those that already know where it is.
So I docked my dingy and explored this pretty bit of land. After getting chased by the natives (which I won’t describe to you since they seemed to find me a virgin sacrifice, sorry darling) I made my way to the center of the island.
There was a deep cavern there, and after a bit of artful tumbling (yes, I fell, laugh while you can) I landed, that is, alighted in waist deep water.
In a beam of moonlight, was an immaculate hull, a half submerged ship that lay listed on her glorious side. Proclaimed in blue: Ponce de Leon.
I climbed aboard. Inside the captains cabin was a gruesome skeleton of a man - the captain, no doubt. In his hand was a flask.
I reached for it...
...and the skeleton drew his blade.
I’ve had more than my fair share of reanimated skeletons, let me tell you. “Who are you?” it rasped at me in a suitably terrifying manner.
So I told him.
“Why do you seek the waters of life eternal?” it asked me next, never lowering its rusty blade.
I told him I had to wait for someone. Someone who would live forever.
“You speak of the Captain of the Flying Dutchman,” it said. Wisearse.
So I told him aye.
Then he said, and it wasn’t a question: “you love him.”
So I told him aye.
And if you ever repeat that Anaya Dalma, I’ll bring your mother back to curse you out of the water.
I drank the flask.
I didn’t feel any different.
Still don’t, some days.
I got my drink and left the island. My next order of business was getting my ship back. I found Barbossa in Tortuga. The minute he saw me, he raised his pistol and shot me.
I felt it hit, felt the blood splatter. The world went black. When I next opened my eyes I was out in the street where someone had tossed my body. I pulled the slug out of my forehead and wiped away the blood.
I murdered Barbossa in his sleep.
Got my ship back.
Sailed on.
I’m just Jack now. Still Captain Jack, but my name became less important when there was no one here to share it. Especially after I heard that Elizabeth had a whelp. The boy is not mine to have. I know that now.
Enclosed is my compass. Whatever you want, whatever you desire, if you hold the compass it will point you in the direction of where it hides.
Cherish it.
I certainly don’t need it anymore.
-J
-
August 31st, 1872, Port of Libertalia
Anaya got up from her desk at the frantic knocking on her door. She opened it and Jack rushed in, pointing an accusing finger at her startled face.
“Yeh don’ write fer months. I don’ know if’n yer mums gone and stolen yeh away, or if’n someone finally fig’red out ‘ow ta kill yeh. ‘M worried sick ‘ere. So imagine me surprise when I get a let’er in th’ post. Where. Is. ‘E.”
Anaya grinned, reached into her apron pocket and tossed him something. By reflex he caught it and looked down at the object in his hand.
It was his compass.
*End Part Two
Part: 2/5 - Return of Post
Author: miss_drea_fic
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Pairing: Jack/Will, Jack/Elizabeth, Will/Elizabeth
Rating: R
Summary: In the late 1800s, there was a town built upon the ocean, it was called Libertalia and William Turner thanked its creation with every breath he took as he walked on its decks.
Disclaimer: The Mouse owns it all.
Port of St. Kitts, 1732, April 4th
A-
I have a story to tell you. You might’ve thought you’d heard all the tales in the past month we spent in each others company. But there was one I didn’t tell you.
With your parting words still bouncing around between my ears, I feel like you’ve a right to know.
You, perhaps more than anyone.
My ship has been taken from me three separate times. Once from my foolish youth and stupidity to Hector Barbossa. That story you know. Sea turtles and all that rot.
The second by Davy Jones himself, ripped up right from underneath my feet. This story you know too. Your very ancestry lies in this tale. Hector unbound your darling mother and dropped us unceremoniously into a maelstrom. But I’m repeating myself.
The third and last time I lost my ship was again to Hector Barbossa. I was too wrapped up in forgetting the pat that I forgot even that.
Bloody moron, I am.
Thus, I commandeered a new ship, all right, a dingy, and set about my merry way. Of course, with Barbossa’s special maps. I was after the Ponce De Leon, for in it resided La Agua de Vida. The water of life. The fountain of youth.
The Immortal Captain Jack...well, you understand my point.
I searched high and low from the tip of the New World to the Bahamas and Bermuda. It was there that I found a strange occurrence. Inside of this small triangular patch of water was an island. And island, of course, that can only be found by those that already know where it is.
So I docked my dingy and explored this pretty bit of land. After getting chased by the natives (which I won’t describe to you since they seemed to find me a virgin sacrifice, sorry darling) I made my way to the center of the island.
There was a deep cavern there, and after a bit of artful tumbling (yes, I fell, laugh while you can) I landed, that is, alighted in waist deep water.
In a beam of moonlight, was an immaculate hull, a half submerged ship that lay listed on her glorious side. Proclaimed in blue: Ponce de Leon.
I climbed aboard. Inside the captains cabin was a gruesome skeleton of a man - the captain, no doubt. In his hand was a flask.
I reached for it...
...and the skeleton drew his blade.
I’ve had more than my fair share of reanimated skeletons, let me tell you. “Who are you?” it rasped at me in a suitably terrifying manner.
So I told him.
“Why do you seek the waters of life eternal?” it asked me next, never lowering its rusty blade.
I told him I had to wait for someone. Someone who would live forever.
“You speak of the Captain of the Flying Dutchman,” it said. Wisearse.
So I told him aye.
Then he said, and it wasn’t a question: “you love him.”
So I told him aye.
And if you ever repeat that Anaya Dalma, I’ll bring your mother back to curse you out of the water.
I drank the flask.
I didn’t feel any different.
Still don’t, some days.
I got my drink and left the island. My next order of business was getting my ship back. I found Barbossa in Tortuga. The minute he saw me, he raised his pistol and shot me.
I felt it hit, felt the blood splatter. The world went black. When I next opened my eyes I was out in the street where someone had tossed my body. I pulled the slug out of my forehead and wiped away the blood.
I murdered Barbossa in his sleep.
Got my ship back.
Sailed on.
I’m just Jack now. Still Captain Jack, but my name became less important when there was no one here to share it. Especially after I heard that Elizabeth had a whelp. The boy is not mine to have. I know that now.
Enclosed is my compass. Whatever you want, whatever you desire, if you hold the compass it will point you in the direction of where it hides.
Cherish it.
I certainly don’t need it anymore.
-J
-
August 31st, 1872, Port of Libertalia
Anaya got up from her desk at the frantic knocking on her door. She opened it and Jack rushed in, pointing an accusing finger at her startled face.
“Yeh don’ write fer months. I don’ know if’n yer mums gone and stolen yeh away, or if’n someone finally fig’red out ‘ow ta kill yeh. ‘M worried sick ‘ere. So imagine me surprise when I get a let’er in th’ post. Where. Is. ‘E.”
Anaya grinned, reached into her apron pocket and tossed him something. By reflex he caught it and looked down at the object in his hand.
It was his compass.
*End Part Two