Title: Immortal Beloved 2: Consequences
Author: Soleil Compeau
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Rating: NC17 for sex, violence, and death
Disclaimer: Jack Sparrow and other POTC characters are not mine to use for profit in any way whatsoever. I do this out of love, and for entertainment purposes only. Sarah Margita is my exclusive creation, and no one but I have rights to her.
Summary: Jack lived a life of adventure and peril, until his death. Then he was resurrected, and had a chance at a different sort of life, one no less exciting.
Author's Notes: Please remember that in this time period, the average life span was something like fifty years. You were considered quite long lived in your sixties. Also, disease was rampant, with common illnesses being cancer, severe influenza, consumption, malaria, smallpox, and syphillis. A lot of women also died in childbirth. Jack and Sarah are remarkably healthy people, particularly for pirates.
Chapter Nineteen - Shaken Awake
Unfortunately, the encounter did little to shake them loose from the comfortable apathy that held them. Sarah felt at times that she needed to do something, but it was so easy to get caught up in the simple routines of their life. There were still birthings to attend, though Sarah at this point merely directed while her apprentices carried out the actual birth. There were calls to make on well known neighbors, weekly teas, and still Sarah's well-tended and envied by all flower garden. Time slipped away like water under a ship's prow - so easily, so lost.
Senora Sparrow also waited on Jackie to do a little more growing first, knowing that she could focus more on her husband once their youngest child was settled. Nearly sixteen, Jackie was as beautiful as her elder sister, and far more interested in being considered so than Maria. Along with all the duties of a household, Jacqueline could also play piano, sing well, and dance with as much grace and accomplishment as Sarah at her finest.
Because she was not only his youngest but the last child he had in his household, Jack lavished attention on her. Along with all her womanly accomplishments, his baby girl was also well read, quick with numbers, and well versed in the philosophy. They discussed nearly every subject save one; though Jack did once diffidently observe that while the boys showed interest in her, she did not return it. Was she saving herself for someone? The only answer Jackie gave was to smile and patronizingly pat his head.
Sarah's last apprentice, Amaryllis, not only graduated to journeyman midwife status but also expressed interest in studying herbal remedies. Jackie too found that subject of passing interest. Studying something like that required caution however; many still were convinced that witches existed and brewed up potions of unknown effect out of flowers and grasses.
Often in the evening, Jackie would play lively songs on the piano for her parents to dance to. Jack enjoyed watching Sarah swirl - ever graceful - and in helping her dip and sway in time to his own body. It was just about the only time he smiled anymore. He was distracted by his own furious plan laying. Jack Sparrow was a man who thought quickly, not only that but in creative ways, very often not at all parallel to others. What occupied him was a way to attain immortality.
The fact was, he told himself, Sarah could not drink from the Fountain while he himself could. But he determined not to keep himself young unless she could do so along with him. Discovering her grey hair had rattled him badly; time was running out as it had for him a few times before. He didn't know if luck or circumstance would save him now. The promise made on his wedding day, to love her until both were too old to chew anymore, was made when he'd little dreamed it would come true. Jack frankly never expected to attain such a condition. He'd not even fair begun exploring all there was to know about Sarah. As well as he knew her, he wanted to know even more. Until he'd crawled into her very bones and she into his; until he could feel her in his blood the way he could hear the Pearl.
With increasing anxiety he watched the silver strands appear in her coal black hair like stars in the night sky. Very well. Sarah could not maintain infinite youth via a magical spring. One possible answer and one he liked better than any of his other ideas, was to strike a bargain with Death itself. Having had some experience dealing with both Davy Jones and William Turner as Charon, and being rather well versed in his classical mythology, Jack's potential plan was to track down Thanatos and persuade him to never touch Sarah. What Jack could offer in return was what stumped him, as well as how to summon the fearful figure in order to strike any deal at all.
No book in his extremely impressive library offered any answer. There were larger books, in grand edifices in other cities. Two problems stood in the way of his research: travel by horseback was first on his list of excruciating torture rather than a means of conveyance, and the dim intuition that such study would enrage his beloved. The only times Jack wanted Sarah angry was when he purposely caused it, knew how to cajole her out of it, and was prepared fully to endure her passionate making up of said anger.
Along with these mysteries he was also giving serious consideration to giving his son John Teague the map that led to the Fountain, along with some strong hints as to it's importance. After Teague had a taste of it, Jack felt sure he would naturally share it with his sisters. The idea of a whole family of Sparrows ruling the oceans pleased him immensely, because of course, as soon as he obtained that priceless immortality for his beloved, Jack had every intention of returing to his ship and open waters. If only he could hold out long enough to figure out an answer! He was dying inside, slowly. Withering away with dull, tasteless experiences.
While her husband was taking a bath, Sarah gathered clothing to wash when she noticed Jack's razor sitting on the desser. He'd forgotten to bring it in with him and he'd mentioned he intended to shave off the whiskers that grew on his neck and cheeks, and to trim his mustache. Easily solved, she would simply bring it to him. Setting down the washing, she picked up the razor and walked to the door of the bathing room, located off the master bedroom of this house.
The door was not fully shut and as she raised a hand to push it wider she heard a breathy moan. Curious, she held still and heard it again. Silently, every muscle rigid in an effort to keep herself inconspicuous, Sarah pressed on the door to open it wider. Just enough for her to peer in and see the back of Jack's head, tipped back against the tub. His hips were raised up and his hand was stroking quickly up and down his long hard cock.
Sarah's body flushed with heat instantly. Oh how fucking beautiful he is, was the thought that flashed through her mind. She stood as still as she could, seeing how his chest rose and fell in quick little pants. He was close to climax. She could see the tip of his organ, dusky purple as it emerged again and again from his fingers. Could also see the way his other hand cupped his balls. More throbbing heat flooded her as she remembered how much he enjoyed it when she played with and stroked that tender sac.
Relations with Jack were...not boring, one could never say so with any degree of honesty, but comfortable. Yes, she could say that age and familiarity had made it far more a comfortable thing than it was in the first flush of their love. Possibly that was exactly the reason he was gratifying himself alone like this. The thought did not upset Sarah so much as it made her want to leap into the room and revive all that former, flaming desire between them. Yet to see him so, unguarded and unaware of being watched, so caught up in his fantasies, was not something she wished to give up. What did he think about during such moments?
Suddenly he slewed around, whipping his head to look directly at her. Caught, face red and breasts heaving, Sarah uttered a surprised little cry. "Spying on me, darling?" Jack did not smile, just kept looking at her with a serious expression. Was there greed in those solemn dark eyes? She thought there might be.
"I...I.." she stammered. "You forgot your razor, sweetheart." She raised her hand, remembering only now the blade she'd intended to carry to him.
Jack's eyes flicked to it. Sarah found it hard to breathe while his erection still throbbed stiff and needy, poking anxiously out of the water. "Put it down on the tub's edge, love."
She did so, trembling like a girl, swallowing repeatedly and finding it very difficult to keep looking at his face when that rampant organ needed satisfying. Jack saw this, and grinned in wicked pleasure. "Will you show me, Jack?" She blurted suddenly, and was surprised at her own boldness.
Her face flushed even more. Jack looked taken aback, but only for a moment. "Show you? You've seen all I've got to offer, methinks."
"No...I mean..show me what you do." Now she did look at his cock, and licked her lips. Jack hissed in a breath at this, and his cock twitched.
"You want me to fondle myself in front of you?" She'd not heard that lacsivious tone from him in too damn long.
"Yes," she whispered huskily.
Moments later, Jack sprawled naked on the bed. His wife removed her clothing down to a shift and knelt between his legs but didn't touch him. Her eyes rested on his aching prick. He can't take a deep breath, only quick shallow gasps as he wraps his long fingers around himself and tugs. Before, in the bath, he'd been right on the edge of bliss. Now, with her before him, he's so excited he's not certain he'll last ten seconds.
When he squeezes firmly round the base, Sarah watches so avidly that instead of cooling his ardor a bit, his passion remains as desperate as before. She's so excited to see him do this, and he's terribly excited to show her. Closing his eyes, he wonders where to begin. Why, at the beginning, of course.
"When I start, I finger the tip, like this," he said huskily. "Doesn't take much." Indeed not, he is greatly sensitive there. "And then I take firm hold and go slow." He can't go slow, he's so turned on. Then he feels her breath on him, dear Jesus is she trying to kill him?
"What do you think about when you do this?" She's so close to him, yet too fucking far away.
"You....acourse!" he gritted out. "I think about your mouth. How you swallow me down...all the way." Jack moaned again and felt Sarah's tongue dart out to caress his drawn up, furry balls. "Wish I had two of you!"
"Really? What would you do with two of me?" Sarah can make her voice as smooth as silk and still stand his hair on end like a cat she's rubbed wrongways.
How is he supposed to talk? His hand pistoned up and down. "One on my...cock...and one...on my...balls." Jack panted out. "Darling, suck me please!"
He jerked his flesh right in her face now. Could feel Sarah's arm moving against his inner thigh and knew what that meant. She's touching herself, and he wished fleetingly that he could see it. Breathlessly she said, "You've had that before. You know how good it feels....don't you?"
Liam and Park jumped instantly to his mind. Sao Feng's twin wives, deadly enough to serve as his bodyguards, had been beautiful and sensuous creatures. Jack well remembered the three days spent hiding with them in the Singapore Lord's harem, taking turns pleasuring each lady. He remembered being laid on a soft bed of satin sheets with one of them on either side of him, and their smiles before they bent their heads. Remembered the feel of mouths on his cock and on his bollocks, remembered how swiftly he'd been driven wild by the feeling. He'd coaxed them to move until he could reach between their legs, sliding his fingers in and out. It had taken him only three minutes to spend himself, hard, crying out loudly and arching his hips.
Right now he groaned almost as loudly as he had then, holding his cock up like an offering to her sweet lips. She swiped her tongue over the tip, eyes staring hotly into his, and Jack spasmed upward. "God...please...!"
Another lick. Jack felt sweat slide down his cheeks as her lips closed slowly around the nearly purple head of his cock. He didn't stop pulling his hard flesh as she sucked, and felt the pleasure, the pressure, building up deep in his gut. He whimpered, panting harshly, felt Sarah moan around his flesh. Jack's eyes rolled back in his head and he groaned harshly, nearly stopping the movement of his hand and squeezing hard as he came.
Sarah laid her head on his hip, one hand stroking back and forth over his stomach. She loved the look of him in those first seconds after orgasm; body glistening, armpits damp, and a combined look of gratitude and stupidity on his handsome face. Ater a moment or two, he rubbed his chin and remarked, "I still didn't shave my whiskers."
One day, the wharfmaster had a visit from a woman. Such visits were rather rare, but he instantly recognized this woman and the import of her arrival. "Lower the ship into the water and make sure she's well padded from the docks." The terse order, and the bag of coins suddenly tossed in his direction, made him raise a surprised brow.
"Are you sure that's something I ought do? The Cap'n said I was to...."
"You are seriously questioning the right I have to make such a request of you?" A surprised tone, elegantly curled lip, and upraised chin communicated as well as her words. Do not test me.
"Well now Senora. 'Tis just so contrary to what he said, what he's been saying since."
"Master Hawking, you and I both know that it's coin that captures your attention best, yes?" She said the words not unkindly. "Will another pouch ease your conscience and cause you to obey my order?" She raised another bag with a tempting smile, and the deal was done.
They strolled together on a picnic when Sarah summoned the courage to broach the painful subject of sailing again. At least once a week she packed cold food into a basket and they would find one of the spots round the village; places that held precious memories for them. "Sweetheart, I want to speak to you about something."
Jack simply grunted questioningly, mind wandering so far away he barely noticed where they were walking. They came to a banyan tree with a stream gurgling just a few feet beyond. This was a place of great joy for them. Many times beneath the gnarled branched they'd eaten, danced, and made love on a thick blanket. He stopped abruptly and turned his face away. "I'm not quite in the mood for a picnic today after all. What say we go back home now? Maybe we can eat in the garden."
"It's the sound of the water, isn't it?" Sarah plunged right to the heart of the matter. "It reminds you of her, doesn't it?"
"Stop it." His voice was a low growled warning. Heart pounding, she paid it no heed.
"You can't stand being near water of any kind now! Because it sounds like the Pearl's voice. Begging you piteously, for you to come talk to her, to touch her again!"
"Don't! Stow it!" Jack rounded on her with the anger he always had when this topic arose. But she refused to let it lie, refused to watch him die slowly in increments and deny his nature.
"Will you do the same to me, when I'm old? Turn me out to pasture and let me languish without you? Will you hobble me so I cannot run to your side?"
He had hold of her now, large hands grasping her shoulders and shaking her angrily, trying to stop the hurtful, truthful words. "I'm trying to protect you, don't you understand! I don't want you to die!"
It was difficult to speak when she was jerking back and forth like a rag doll. By grabbing hold of his forearms she found the words he needed to hear. "I could die...just as easily...on land!"
Jack stopped shaking her but his face was still enraged, and she could see beneath, heartbroken. "Aye. And if you do I'll fall on the Reaper and beg him for mercy, savvy? I can't bear the thought of you being in danger!"
"I don't want this! You promised you'd sail with me to the horizon and beyond! If I'd wanted a safe, respectable life, I'd have married Robert!" She spat the words into his face. Jack's face went deathly pale and he stumbled backwards from her. Sarah'd not mentioned the name of her long ago fiance since Teague was a newborn babe, nor said the Pearl's name in months.
"I want you the way that you were! Like a cat stalking across the deck, hair clanking and tinkling as your baubles sway in the breeze! I want a pirate lover!" She gestured towards the stream. "You hear the Black Pearl speaking in running water and you flee from the sound. Don't do it anymore! Go to her!"
She could hardly bear the sight of his frozen, unhappy face and those wounded eyes. Jack stared at her a few moments longer as if he didn't know who she was. Suddenly he turned and ambled off rapidly, moving like a man made of sticks. Jerky and uncertain, staggering in a way that bespoke a terrible injury. It was all she could do to not race to his side and support him.
Hours later she found him on the deck of the Pearl, on his knees caressing the planks of the deck. His face was screwed up akin to the expression he wore when in deepest ecstasy with her, and he was sobbing. She stood uncertainly a few feet from him. After several efforts, Jack managed to wrench out her name, reaching towards her with one hand as if desperate for her yet terrified to let go of the lifeline of his ship. And she was pierced anew by the fact that Jack loved two things with every fiber of his heart; herself and the Black Pearl.
Moving to him, dropping to cradle him in her arms, she murmured to him over and over. "Love you sweetheart, so sorry, want you always, love you so much. I'm sorry." He began to shudder and cling to her with a desperate keening. She suspected it was because of her freely given apology for having been so cruel in waking him up.
Chapter Twenty - Saying Goodbyes
Sometimes change comes to us in small increments, so small we barely notice it until we look around and all is different. And sometimes it comes in lightning flashes, illuminating a totally different landscape to the thunder of our surprise.
They made love, right there on the deck, Jack pressing her beneath him. Gods, but he loved to dominate her this way. Sarah enjoyed bossing him in the bedroom and he found pleasure in submitting to that; however, having her spread open, helpless beneath him and clinging to his shoulders....ahhh there was just nothing like it. Sarah was covered in a fine sheen of perspiration. Jack inhaled the rich warm scent of it. It was an odor he paticular liked, and she acquired it whenever she did any kind of work. Often he would hold her with his nose behind her ear, at her neck, or buried between her breasts, snuffling that smell of her until she laughed and pushed him away so she could bathe.
Though he'd fetched a thick cotton blanket to place beneath her, he was pretty roughly driving her into the quarterdeck. Dimly, Jack sensed the Pearl shifting beneath them; seemingly cradling Sarah while he pounded her with what she liked to call his 'big manly goods.' He propped himself up on his hands and pistoned in and out of her. Jack loved fucking. Never did he feel better than when fucking. His blood sang in his veins, his breathing was deep and regular. His muscles were flexed and not exhausted at all.
Being an older man now, he could appreciate a slow through bedding and could last a fair bit longer than even he used to, being well able to pace himself. This was a very satisfying reunion for all three of them. He could hear his ship sighing softly- Mmmm oohhh mmmmhh- over and over. It was that more than anything else that made him speed up and spill between Sarah's thighs.
"Darling.....I hope you gave me a baby with that sweet loving," a small voice sounded in his ear a bit later. Content in the somnolence between asleep and awake, it took Jack a few moments for the import of those words to sink in. When they did, his twilight eyes opened wide.
Raising up on his hands, he looked into Sarah's eager gaze. Carefully he asked, "A baby, love? Why would you be wishing for another? Jackie's nearly grown!"
"That's exactly it, sweetheart!" She put her arms around his neck and looked earnestly up at him. "Our last child...in a few years she'll be a woman! And I'm getting older. I feel in my heart that in only a little time, maybe even a few months, I won't be able to have babies at all anymore." Jack was not smiling and taken with the idea as she hoped. She stroked his face. "This could be my last chance to try."
He didn't quite know how to respond. If he could find a way to make them immortal, Jack would never object to her having as many babies as she likes. He loves the one they've already had, after all, more dark haired beauties will delight him. But in the meantime, he feels a little greedy of her, and doesn't wish to share her if he can help it. For now, he simply pats her, smiles vaguely, and reaches for their clothes. He'd have much rather stayed comfortably on the deck with her and fallen alseep beneath the velvet sky, being rocked by the gentle motions of his ship.
The decision to slip right back to an old way of being, to stop pretending he was missing an essential part of himself, was easy. Sail again, as Captain of the Black Pearl, why of course. But Jack found that time had marched on and changed him in subtle ways that he hadn't quite expected. For example, for some months when he woke, there had been a bitter stiffness bordering on a cramp, that pulsed in his hands, shoulders, and lower back. He had managed to get used to it. The morning after returning to his ship, however, Jack had to admit that the feeling he woke with went beyond cramping and was a band of steel pain instead.
The pain passed in time for him to eat his breakfast with little more than a twinge. He and Sarah prepared to go see Josh and Lucia. Unfortunately, they found that Lucia was doing very poorly indeed. She could barely walk anymore, and Joshamee had to feed her every bite that passed her lips. Mostly softened food, at this point. "Seems like she reached a certain point, and it was like ice skating downhill from there," Gibbs explained patiently as he spooned milquetoast past Lucia's vaguely smiling lips.
The stupidly smiling face was the worst part for Sarah. It was as if Lucia hadn't the clearest idea of what was happening to her, and looked serenely out at the world as if all were fine indeed. The man who'd once followed his captain to the Land beyond Death spared him only a glance now. "I can't leave her, Jack. Not even t'round up a new crew fer ya. She don't do so well with anybody else, ye see. Yer saying Snaky ain't so good as me at picking out trustworthy men, worth their salt, and yer right 'bout that. But can't be helped. Some of the old crew'll still follow ye, Jack. And you'll find some good uns, I know it."
Walking slowly across town to see some of the "old crew," Sarah tried to put it in perspective. "After all, both of them are a good twelve years at least older than...you." She seemed disturbed by the significance of that and hurried on. "It's simple old age that's killing her. That's all." She trailed off.
"Aye," Jack answered morosely. "Simple old age, simply the most complicated thing Man's had to deal with since the question of whose idea t'was to eat the Apple."
Snaky Jake indeed was willing to sail with Jack Sparrow again. Some o the old crew did refuse, mostly the older ones who wanted to continue enjoying a comfortable retirement. Roughly half of the men who's settled down with wives also refused. The other half not only volunteered, but Jack was stunned when the women paired up with those crewmates also signed up. When he mentioned it ruefully to his First Mate, Snaky seemed puzzled it was even a question. He informed his captain that anyone who knew Jack would follow him anywhere in the world. Because he led them well, and was dashing. Sarah couldn't suppress her amusement at both how discomfitted Jack was by this, and by the earnest look of sincerity in Jake's face.
Another change he discovered was when he put aside his finer clothes and put on more sea worn garb. They wouldn't fasten round his waist. Frustrated, he blamed Sarah for shrinking them. Woman feeds me too well, he grumbled savagely to himself as he tied the laces as loosely as possible. A ten minute search for his old sash led him to the back of a drawer where it and his red headscarf were carefully folded. Jack was able to secure his breeches the rest of the way with it.
Sarah had found for herself that she was rounder than she remembered. In fact, she was already pregnant, a fact which suffiently distracted Jack from his too tight breeches. She was so obviously delighted that he put aside his own disgruntlement at having to share her again, and assured them both of providing for the babe.
They only wished to go to France for now. A voyage to stretch the Pearl's sails and get used to sea life again. Jacqueline was more observant than either of them thought, and for the trip she brought gifts to her parents. Herbs that would be good for both Sarah and her new baby, and something she called cat-oil for her father's "dry twist" as it was called in those parts. It was made from mint, yarrow, and a bit of cheyenne. The true secret however, was in the few drops of the bile of mountain cats, found ranging among the Cantabrian peaks far away. She also asked to stay with Amaryllis' family meanwhile. Both young ladies presented such hopeful smiles that permission was easily granted.
When Sarah rubbed the cat oil onto Jack's back the next morn, the heat was almost too intense to bear. When it calmed a bit, he felt immense relief and sighed happily with it. Seeing how well it worked, she smiled and applied it to his shoulders and hands as well. It was with glad hearts, but wise with the shadow of past pains and lessons learned, that they set off for France. A short trip, and if all went well they would venture out more often, further out. Jack said so, Jack who was almost womanish in his anxiety to protect his wife.
He'd been weighed down with worry for such a long time that he didn't realize how heavy it was until he let it go. Being at sea felt so good, he was buoyed, felt youthful and eager and fun loving again. Jack suspected the Pearl was partly responsible for that; she hummed and sang and fairly flew above the water, transmitting her excitement to him. Every morning Sarah annointed his hurting joints with the precious oil and he began his day's work, gaining muscle and vitality with every day. Soon his breeches fit him again. Sarah felt it too. She laughed much more, began to dance again, wore her hair loose or in a single braid; it had been years since he saw her curls free like that.
They arrived in time to say goodbye to Bill Turner.
Was it not enough, Jack asked himself savagely as he approached the bed where the waste of his old friend lay, that immediately upon arrival they learned that Joshua had died as well? Never before had he considered that death could indeed be a blessing; but after hearing Elizabeth and poor Rebecca's descriptions of Joshua wasting away for missing Esther, Jack thought maybe it was possible. It was her name he murmured in the end, in a tone of such wonder and joy that all present had felt a supernatural chill, for indeed she may have been in the room to welcome her husband to the other side.
Jackson and Rebecca had asked permission to marry each other and raise little Tobias as their own. Having more sense than that, Will and Elizabeth refused on the grounds that at seventeen and nearly eighteen were just too young. But they did allow an engagement. Jackson hoped to one day own a dry goods store and to that end had taken employment as an errand and cleaning boy in the store in town. Rebecca was studying to take the schoolteacher's place when she finished her education. Joshua's death had lent everyone a sobriety and maturity.
All these reflective thoughts fled when Bill opened his eyes and turned them to his captain of old. "You made it. Knew you would." He coughed, rattling and horrible, and Jack winced. "You always did manage to be in the thick of things."
Jack pulled up a chair and sat, waving a hand airily to indicate Bill's suroundings. "You've found a nice place to fetch up in, as usual. You're a survivor after all, in your own cunning, cozening way, Bill Turner."
A ghost of a smile passed the dying man's lips in recognition of the backhanded compliment. Jack shifted abruptly, cleared his throat, and without thinking passed the rum bottle as he did in old days. Bill managed to prop himself up to take a swig. The effort cost him the last of his strength but the alcohol's burn eased his pain enough for Jack to stand the deathwatch easier. "Feels good, you being here. Feels right. I thank you Jack. I didn't want to leave, without saying a proper goodbye."
For twenty minutes, he entertained Bill with the tale of the time he found a mermaid, and was charged with kidnapping. All these years later the old pirate still claimed it wasn't his fault he'd neglected to tell the magistrate the ship was leaving port. Couldn't very well convince a man of a mythical being without showing it to him, now could you? And he swore up and down that the seagulls were only trying to help. And dead rats were SUPPOSED to be dead, everyone knew you kept a cat aboard a vessel to keep the rodent population down.
"Nearly half of my crimes involved me being in the wrong place at the wrong time, and trying innocently to be doing something else entirely! Well, maybe not quite so innocently at that. Think I got accused o brigandage a'purpose?" Shaking his head over his supposed injustices, Jack glanced at Bill to see the man staring fixedly ahead.
He bolted out of the room to fetch everyone else. It took Sarah's relentless grip on his shirtsleeve to bring him back in. Bill Turner lay quietly, breathing in shallow gasps, as everyone stepped close and murmured whatever goodbye they fancied. He smiled once, took his son's hand. "I'm luckier 'n most," he rasped. "Everything I lost has come back to me, in some form." Five minutes later, his chest rose for the last time.
Chapters 21 and 22