Immortal Beloved post AWE parts 21-24

[soleilpirate]

Title: Immortal Beloved
Author: Soleil Compeau
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Pairing: Jack/Other
Spoilers: post AWE, third in the Jack and Sarah universe
Rating: NC17 overall, cause I'm just that way when I write, some chapters will be PG
Disclaimer: These stunt doubles have just reenacted what takes place after the final cut. No copyright infringement intended, no profits or wages are being made. I do this out of deep love for the characters

Summary: What would a teenage demi-goddess want with Jackson Turner? And what might Sarah and Jack, growing old together, be able to do about it?

Warning: angst (eventually), character death both minor and major


 

Chapter Twenty One - Changes

William Turner was worried.

William Turner was worried about the daughter he'd made with the sea goddess. Joie de Mer was growing, faster than he could account for, and in ways that were disturbing him. So he'd withdrawn far inland, on the other side of the harbor city he dwelled in, to ponder what he should do about his strange, supernatural child.

He turned events over and over again in his mind until he felt he was only thinking in circles. He wasn't even clear on what Joie wanted, or if she was simply acting out in the way many girls did when becoming women. But Joie is only eight years old! Will protested to himself. How can she be changing already? Yet what he had seen in the last few months of his daughter, she clearly was.

Will sat under a tree in the quiet little park and stared at the sky. Footsteps warned him and he sat up quickly to see his wife Elizabeth walking towards him with a shy smile on her face. "Will?" she called to him.

As always, the sight of her stirred powerful emotions. They had been through so much together, adventure and danger had colored their lives and tested their love. Will and Elizabeth knew, nothing could break the bond they had forged.

She flopped down next to him and brushed a hand through his hair. "I've come to see what's bothering you."

"Where are the boys? Is my father looking after them?" At her nod he relaxed again, and laid his head in her lap so she could keep playing with his hair, unbound on his shoulders. "I don't know what to think. I came here to sort my thougts, so I would know how to talk to you about it."

Elizabeth's voice was soothing. "Just start with your thoughts. Maybe talking about it will help you sort them out. Is it something to do with your father, the business, our sons, or something else?"

"It's Joie." He let out a relieved breath, discovering that once he began speaking of it, like a dam he burst and it all poured out.

"She's changing, she must be growing up. So young for it, but it's the only explanation. She...she gets angry much more easily, and often. The other day she demanded to know why I don't come out and see her at sea. And she didn't mean, on a boat, out on the water. She meant UNDER the water. I explained that I was mortal again and couldn't do what I did when I...when I was Captain...."

Will fell silent. After a few moments Elizabeth prompted him. "What did she say to that? Surely she understands, after all, she comes to you to see you. That was her choice."

"She just stared at me and said that I could not drown. Said it in a tone that seemed to imply I ought to know better. She huffed off, and that was the day of the flood, that caused so much trouble for the wharf masters and lost us a lot of the provisions that were left at the docks."

is wife was quiet, and a chill passed through her. Will felt her shiver. "So her powers are growing then?"

William chewed his lip. "Yes. Two weeks ago she announced her arrival by causing the seaweed to grow little flowers of her face." e snorted with laughter. "It's rather funny, actually. If the rest weren't so serious."

e swallowed and began to fidget, sitting up and looking away. This was hard to talk about. "It's not just her temperament. She...well...you know sometimes I bring Willy and Jackson. It's going better."

"That's a good thing, Will. Sounds like you've managed to get them all getting along." She stared at the tense lines of his back.

"Usually, she transforms some part of her, into clothing. I never questioned that before, never fully thought out what it would entail to change from one thing to another." William blushed deeply as he stared at his hands. "She didn't bother to do that last time. She..a little fish came swimming up...turned into Joie...with not a stitch on. She was smiling."

It took Elizabeth a moment to catch on to what he meant. When she did, her mouth dropped open. "That's completely improper! Will! Something's got to be done!"

Her husband rather miserably explained. "What can I do? Turn her over my knee and spank her? She's growing up. Joie..." Will's hand made a vague gesture at his chest. Elizabeth grasped it instantly.

"You're saying she's got breasts," she said bitterly. "Your eight year daughter, by a sea nymph, has breats. Which our sons saw!" her voice rose sharply with each word.

"They're litte ones." Will said inanely, and Elizabeth saw how very upset and confused he was over this. Her anger fled.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, simply drawing comfort in being together. Suddenly Elizabeth saw Bill hurrying towards her. She rose to her feet, afraid he brought bad news, something about her children. "Will," she said tersely, and Will looked up, saw his father, and paled with the same thought.

"Best come back to the house," Bill said as soon as he was in earshot. "Joie's arrived, looking proud as a peacock. She and Willy are squaring off like wild rams, ready to lock horns."

William burst into the house moments before Elizabeth, and saw merely his three offspring looking warily at each other. Jackson was placed stragetically between Willy, who was glowering angrily as he stirred the soup on the stove so hard it was a wonder broth wasn't raining everywhere, and Joie who looked as if butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. She was chattering about nothing to Jack, who set the table and murmured agreements at just the right places.

Joie turned and saw him, saw Elizabeth crowding behind him. Her smile widened. She wore a dress, a very nice one, which looked quite a bit like the one Tia Dalma wore shortly before being freed. "Daddy! I came to visit you!" Her eyes turned sly. "Since our last visit was cut so short."

She looked at Elizabeth. "Mrs. Turner, I'm so glad to finally meet the woman who mothered my brothers! It's so wonderful to be here, in your beautiful home."

Though her words were proper, even simpering, her tone was one of smug satisfaction. It was clear her attitude was that she was exactly where she wanted to be, and believed nothing could budge her. No, not Willy's anger, nor Elizabeth's offended sensibilities, nor Will's displeasure. I am a goddess, and the child of a goddess, her pose and expressions proclaimed. I do what I damn well want! 

She stayed for dinner, even though no one actually invited her. Jackson was the only one who actually talked to her. Will glared at her, looking more and more stern and fatherly until his own sons were cowering, knowing what usually happened when that look was on his face. As they cleared the dishes, she walked outside, smirking one last time over her shoulder, and disappeared into the rain. Literally.

The next morning, Will took a rowboat out to confront her, knowing that all he had to do was come out a certain distance and Joie would find his presence irresistable. What he did not see was Jackson follow him a short time later in a rowboat of his own.

The seven year old was not as sturdy as his brother and father. Jackson was built more like his slim mother. He was able to row for a bit, but not well, and drifted wide. He lost sight of his father, and stopped to rest his tired arms. It took a long time before he felt enough strength come back to try again. Meanwhile, his boat drifted further. The boy was brave in his safe home, but out here he was soft and very young. When he could not see his father's boat or find the strength to row, or see which way shore was, he began to cry. Jackson continued to drift, not knowing how much time was passing.

A bump on the underside of his boat startled him. Jackson gripped the sides of the boat and wondered uneasily if a shark was going to get him. The bump came again, and this time he caught sight of a sleek shape under the water, going past on the port side. It was a dolphin, he saw it more clearly on the next pass. With it's blunt head it was pushing the boat.

Jackson clung to the edges and peered ahead. Relief filled him as he began to make out the shape of shore in front of him. And then the smaller vision of his father came into view. He glanced back in time to see the dolphin change into Joie de Mer, and call out with her human mouth, "I found him Daddy! It's all right!"

Will gathered his son into his arms. He was pale faced and shaking. "Thank you, sweetie," to Joie. "Thank God you're safe, Jackson!" Joie remained in the water, a hand on her father's arm, peering intently at the brother who was nearly her twin.

Chapter Twenty Two - Tattoos and tickling

"No!" Mary threw down the peeler and vegetables onto the counter and crossed her arms stubbornly. "I'm tired of all this, I'm tired of nothing but child's play and women's work!"

Sarah reigned in her impatience for the fifth time that day. "If you plan on eating this food, you should help to prepare it. You're part of this family, and we need your contribution."

"I know that Mama. But is that the only thing we have in this life? Cooking, cleaning, mending? The only joy we really have is dancing, and practicing dance. I don't want to do this anymore!"

To say that Mary was frustrated with her lot was an understatement. Ever since her father and brother had sailed she'd been more and more testy. Sarah knew her eldest daughter was strong willed, and she was actually quite proud of that trait in her child. She hoped to teach the young girl to channel those energies properly, however. It was not easy for a woman in this world. In response to Mary's last comment, Sarah asked, "Then what do you want to do?"

The answer was unhesitant and straightforward. "It's not fair Teague gets to sail with Papa! Why can't I go! We used to, I remember it!"

Sarah suppressed a sigh at the young girls' melodrama. "You're too young to be part of a pirate crew. Why don't you go play with Inez and Serafina, cool your temper before I lose mine!"

She had a blessed two hours of calm with her baby before Mary came rushing back, dramatically announcing that she would never play with Serafina again because she was a selfish pig. Mary then burst into tears and threw herself onto her bed, inconsolable, at least until dinner.

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After only four months he ordered them back home, to Spanish waters. There was grumbling, for the first time, and Jack coolly reminded his crew that they could always try their fortunes on another ship. That settled it for most, but a few jumped ship when they stopped to resupply. The Captain figured he was better off without such, there was less likely to be mutiny.

Teague joined him at the rail as they neared the port Jack had come to crave more than any other. "What do you think mother will say?" he asked as he rubbed at the swollen flesh around the fresh mark on his left bicep.

His father grinned. "Never know, son. Your mother is a very tolerant woman, she might not make any fuss at all."

When the Pearl eased into her berth in Cadiz, the Captain was all brisk business. When he disembarked, he turned immediately into an eager bridegroom. On swift feet he headed for home. His first glimpse of Sarah was of her sweeping dirt off the front steps. The door of the house was flung wide, and she was barefoot, hair bound up in a topknot. The green scarf she'd had for years was wrapped around it and trailing along her neck and she was singing a Spanish hymn, slightly off key.

Jack simply watched her. At any moment she would realize he was there. Would she smile and run to him, or would she greet him with a bored tone? Would she joyfully say she was glad to see him, or would she tell him she was tired of his long absences and if he could not be home with her, he'd best not return next time? Jack knew she deserved better than his restless piraty nature could provide. He waited, and dreaded, for her to realize it as well.

Her eyes caught his frame, and she stared at him. A huge smile split her face and she dropped the broom. Gathering up her skirts, uncaring of her bare feet, she ran swiftly the little distance to him and leaped into his arms. "Oh Jack! You're home and safe!" Then she was kissing him.

They were in heaven together, time did not matter. But eventually Jack began to hear the insistent voice of his son behind him. He and Sarah parted reluctantly and she peered around him.

"Mother!" her tall son greeted her, and came forward to hug her neck, now that she was separated from his father. "I wanted to see you before I go to town, find my friends."

Sarah raised an amused eyebrow. "Well! Good of you to greet your loving mother before darting off, I suppose!" Her grin teased him, and she squeezed his shoulders lovingly. A wince signalled a change in her boy, which she instantly investigated.

"Oh! A tattoo! And...quite a nice one, I must say." Sarah nodded approval of the compass, red rose pointing to the words, Liberté et Joy.

Teague cast a sidelong glance at Jack and grinned ruefully. The man chuckled and tousled the boy's thick hair, some parts of which were braided. Sarah told him, "Go on then, but make sure you come back to eat with us."

As Jack and Sarah walked arm in arm back to the house, he commented, "It's getting so boring out on the seas, pirating is absolutely no challenge at all. The EITC is regaining a bit of it's power, but not as much as before. Due mainly to the bigwigs fighting over who gets to be Chairman. I understand the position has changed hands several times."

"What are you saying, Jack? Looking for a new challenge again?"

The pirate rubbed his chin, tugged at his braids. "Maybe the real challenges are here under me very nose," he answered quietly. There was no chance for more, for his daughters heard his voice and rushed exuberantly to greet him.

Later, Jack and Sarah ran like children through the streets of Cadiz to the harbor. All their children were snugly bedded down and left in the care of Joshamee and Lucia. They slipped, giggling, aboard the empty ship at anchor and went to the Captain's cabin. It was playtime for them.

They took turns with Undress Me; Jack would hold up a cup of rum for Sarah to take a sip from while he divested her of one article of clothing. Then Sarah did the same to him. Once they were both as naked as the day they were born, a new game, this one apparently called Hug and Tickle, began.

Sarah started it by curling her arms around her husband's waist and snuggling against his chest. Wickedly, when he returned her embrace, she dug her fingers into his ribs, causing snorts of laughter. He retaliated by blowing loudly on her neck. Many and sensuous were the places on their bodies that tickled, and so the battle was on. The skin just above Jack's hips was particularly sensitive. Sarah's knees were a favorite place for him to torment her.

At one point, Jack found himself pinned helplessly on his stomach, Sarah atop him tickling the soles of his feet while he laughed and struggled. Moments later Sarah was flipped onto her back, arms pinned by one strong hand above her head, while the other hand went mercilessly back and forth over her armpits.

Jack could not remember a time in his adult life when he'd laughed so hard or had such fun with a woman, regardless of whether he was bedding her. His sides ached, he was sweaty and giddy. A truce in the game was called when Sarah blew raspberries repeatedly on his stomach. Even as he laughed, he felt a jolt of desire and his cock sprang up so hard it nearly caught her in the chin.

He drew her up to his mouth to kiss her. Jack brushed his full lips lightly as a butterfly's wings over her mouth until she pressed impatiently closer. His tongue tip teased her teeth and danced maddeningly out of reach of hers. She tried to deepen the kiss and put her tongue in his mouth, but he kept pulling back, chuckling, until Sarah grabbed the back of his head. Delightedly he felt her suck his tongue into her mouth and move her lips passionately over his.

Soft wet sounds as their mouths opened and suckled and slid were the only sounds for awhile. Kissing for them was not just lip to lip. Their noses rubbed gently together, and his mustache brushed over her face as he moved his mouth. Jack stroked her cheek. Her fingers caressed his neck. One leg pressed between her thighs and in return she hooked one over his hip. He moved down to her neck and nibbled her throat.

Sarah's nipples rising against his chest urged him to move down further and cup her breasts in his hands and savor them. He loved her skin, it was so soft, smelled and tasted faintly of chocolate due to the cocoa butter she used every morning. Jack pulled each nipple deep into his mouth and softly rubbed his tongue over it while suckling gently. Sarah stretched and groaned beneath him as he moved back and forth giving each breast lots of attention.

With one hand he wandered over her belly and thighs, skimmed teasingly over her tight curls and slick lips. "Jack," she murmured thickly.

That was another thing he liked very much. The way she said his name in that throaty voice of want. The way she whimpered, begged, cried out and screamed his name, oh yes. Jack swept his fingers between her legs again and then wickedly tickled her inner thighs to make her squirm and giggle. Then slid down her body, rubbing his beard and mustache over the skin of her belly and sides until she was shivering and shuddering.

Her legs parted for him and he moved lower, took a tender lick at the line where her leg met her body, then settled himself more comfortably. She looked down at him between her thighs, watched his face express great enjoyment as he bent and took one long lick between her folds. Jack pushed his tongue inside her and moved up and down, slowly. God, he loved the thick pungent taste of her.

Sarah closed her eyes and reveled in the sensations he caused her. Jack used everything when it came to pleasuring. Just now, his fingers curved over the swell of her buttock. His cheek rested on her inner thigh and every few strokes he brushed his nose over her swollen clitoris. Waves of pleasure swept over her with every movement of his lush mouth.

The hand that pressed her thigh farther open came up and one finger pressed inside her. Sarah squealed, raising her hips to press closer to his heavenly wet strokes. Jack stopped just long enough to drape her legs over his shoulders and cup her bottom, then pressed his mouth against her opening and passionately kissed and devoured her. He was deeply excited by the taste and smell of her pussy pressed to his face.

Jack rubbed against the bed, grinding his erection into the blankets. He was so full, achingly full, and his prick was straining and weeping with desire for her. Just a little longer, he told his body fiercely. Just a little longer and you'll get your turn! It's her right now, wet and swollen and hot and helpless. It's her sweet tight tunnel squeezing around my finger, her little nub standing out and begging....Jack went after her clitoris and laved it with short hard jabs of his tongue.

Sarah's body shuddered, she cried out wildly and her pussy spasmed under his mouth. Jack moaned in deep satisfaction as she clamped down on his finger and flooded sticky warmth onto his palm. he rose on all fours and climbed up her body, but Sarah was pushing on his chest, shoving him off the bed and getting up as well. Confused, he stood up, and his heart pounded when she slid to her knees before him.

Her hands grasped his hips, soft breasts pressed to his thighs, and the warmth of her breath cascaded over his head. She put her lips delicately around the tip and sucked lightly. Jack made a desperate, hungry noise. She continued to suckle gently while pushing her mouth steadily forward. Sweat popped out on his forehead as she kept leisurely sliding more, more, more of him past her pretty pink lips. Sarah often did this for him, took him quite deeply into her luscious little mouth. Occasionally she gave him the treat of fully encasing him all the way to the balls. This was one of those times.

She tilted her head just so, big sea green eyes on his face as she swallowed him, took him right down into her throat. Jack plunged his hands into her hair. "God, oh God," he whimpered helplessly.

Sarah sucked harder now, holding him deep in her mouth and applying pressure until her cheeks lightly hollowed. Jack's head went back, his eyes closed. He was not going to be able to bear this for long, already his legs were buckling. "Please...I can't take...I need to..lie down!" he moaned brokenly.

She was still sucking, and now she began a quick back and forth jerking of her head. Desperately he sucked in air. Dear God, he needed to lie down! But he was utterly unable to move, unable to take one backwards step to get away from the scorching wetness of her mouth. Then her hands came around to cup his bottom and squeeze firmly, and he was undone.

Jack fell backwards, weakened legs giving out finally, and landed with an oof on his back. His erection flagged, Sarah swiftly crawled up him and straddled his legs to keep him in place, and drove her mouth right back down on him. Instantly, Jack was rigid again. He arched. "Oh God, your lips! So soft, oh, your tongue!"

The tongue in question was lapping firmly along the underside of his cock while her mouth plunged up and down his entire length. Up, and she squeezed tight around his head. Down, and she kissed the soft black hairs at his root. Jack could not see. He could barely breathe. Ragged throaty cries were torn from his throat. Sarah cupped his taut balls in her hand and that extra bit of stimulation caused hot shattering pleasure to explode over him.

He wailed in extreme bliss, fists tight in her hair, pushing his hips helplessly deeper into her mouth. Sarah rode the waves and swallowed repeatedly until he sank back to the floor with a groan of relief. She rested her head on his belly and for awhile they simply rested together. Jack might have fallen asleep there except for the hard wooden floor under his back. Stirring, he nudged Sarah aside and groggily sat up.

They found the clothes scattered all over the cabin and managed to hobble back to their house. It was dark and quiet when they went in, and quietly they made their way to their bedroom. So sated and exhausted were they, they were asleep even as their heads hit the pillows.

The next morning, Sarah woke first and pressed herself against Jack's back. He was curled up on his side breathing steadily and deeply. She slipped an arm around his waist, cuddling him and feeling the warmth radiate from his body. One hand splayed over his chest and he sighed at the contact. Jack's body felt so good she kept cuddling closer, moving so that she created friction between her breasts and his back, her crotch and his bottom, his legs and hers.

There was a slight change in his steady breathing, and he began to stretch a bit. Sarah ran her hand up and down his chest. He sighed again, and she trailed her fingers down over his stomach. His skin was so soft here. The muscles fluttered under her caress and Jack moaned softly in his sleep.

Excited by this reaction, Sarah moved her hand lower and touched his morning stiffness. Cupping his heavy balls, she pressed them against his body then rolled them in a loose circle. Jack straightened his legs, moving swiftly to wakefulness. She grasped his manhood and moved her fist up and down, from the root to the tip and back again. At the same time, she leaned over his shoulder and kissed his neck, just where it met his shoulder.

He shuddered, definitely awake now, and tried to roll over. Sarah pushed against his back, preventing him from doing so. She remained molded to his body, devouring his neck and maintaining a steady stroke on him. Jack moved the blankets and looked down to watch her fist moving up and down on his cock. Her small smooth hand squeezed just right. He tipped his head a bit to give her more access to his sensitive neck. It felt so very good.

He was sweaty and breathless by the time she eased off and let him move onto his back. He tipped his head back in clear invitation, and Sarah licked the hollow of his throat, then nibbled up over the swell of his adam's apple, up the underside of his chin, and met his lips in a passionate kiss.

"You're mine, Jack," she said in a low choked voice as she straddled his hips. "And I'm going to have you!" She grabbed his wrists and held his hands pinned over his head.

Jack moaned with pleasure as she ground her sopping wet pussy over him. He moved to help her, and their bodies joined in a rush of heat and moisture. She squeezed her thighs around his hips, rocking over him.

"Take me, Sarah! Take me hard!" Jack gasped in encouragement.

He pretended to struggle to free his hands, so she would clamp down harder on his wrists. Sarah rode him faster and faster, moaning and sobbing in enjoyment. He stared at her face, forcing his eyes open against the drowning pleasure, so he could see her beauty as she rushed towards her own bliss. He raised his hips strongly for her again and and again.

His wife pumping on his cock and crying out like that, holding his hands down like that, was too much for him to bear. Jack tried to hold back, but it was so good, too good. He warned her with a loud cry. "Ohhh Sarah! Gonna come...so hard!"

Just a little more, she needed just a little more. Sarah got that little more watching Jack in the throes of orgasm beneath her. His handsome face contorted, deep voice crying out, lithe body bucking and jerking. She slammed down on his throbbing, spewing cock and joined her voice to his, calling his name repeatedly until breath failed her and she collapsed on his chest, at last releasing his hands. 

Chapter Twenty Three - Dangerous Encounters

Sarah mused on the small changes that had come to her family over the last two years. One of the biggest ones in her mind was right before her as Mary fluffed her shorn hair in front of the looking glass. The girl was blossoming rapidly into a woman, a thing which gave her little pleasure. Cutting her hair shorter than what even most boys wore it was a way Mary could cling to her childhood. It also reinforced visually her rebellious nature.

Only one long lock remainded, a braid dangling to her shoulder with a familiar blue coin woven in the hair just under her ear. Giving it a tug, Mary turned from the mirror to leave the house. Though she wore dresses with more grace now that her body was curvier, the eldest Sparrow daughter continued to play like a child. She played ball, hoops, climbed trees and went fishing.

"I'm going fishing with Laura, Serafina and Juan, Mama." She said rather haughtily.

Sarah quickly caught her shoulder. "You'll be back for dinner, AND you'll wash up afterwards. Understand me, girl?"

"Yes, Mama." The proud nature was quelled for the moment. Mary darted out the door. Perhaps ten minutes later, she ran right back into the house. "Mother! Black sails have been spotted! Father's home! And Teague!" She ran away, skirts flapping.

Sarah thrust out the door and shouted after her daughter. "It'll be a good three hours yet before they make harbor! You might as well go fishing, they'll be home for supper!" She chuckled and looked at eight year old Jackie, curly hair springing free from her braids, feeding Cotton's Spanish parrot. "Looks like we'll have to cook extra tonight!" Her heart lifted at the thought of Jack's return.

Her husband had not been inclined to sail again, spending nearly a year home with them all. Only Teague's begging had changed his mind at all. That, and learning the lad had spoken to Captain Rajeev about a berth on the Indian's ship. Jack was very displeased by that, and given Teague quite a dressing down for it. "You signed articles to serve as part of me crew, to serve me as Captain!" he thundered at his son. "I'll not tolerate you jumping ship!" Perhaps a week later they made sail again.

Mary utterly ignored the advice given her, feet pounding through the streets of the town as she ran towards the huge bustling harbor. There was only thought that existed for her, to be first to greet the men in her life when they stepped off the ship. Mary sat on the docks, ignoring everything around her as the Black Pearl drew majestically closer. The wharf master knew her, knew her father, and forbade all to bother her. Eight months of waiting would finally end for her.

She gnawed at a piece of apple spice cake she'd snatched from the house, impatience mounting as Black Pearl manuevered like a clumsy swan into her appointed berth. The gangplank lowered, and Mary got up, dancing in anxiety. Crewmen jogged lightly down it, most greeting her and many doing a double take at her cropped hair.

A familar dreadlocked figure appeared, started down the gangplank. He appeared to be carrying a large bundle. As he neared her his familiar well beloved voice rumbled out. "Mary princess, you're..." Whatever else he might have said was cut off by his clear glimpse of her, and her of him.

Her brother Teague was held in Jack's arms, and his leg was bandaged.

"You're hurt!" "Your hair!" Identical outraged voices exclaimed.

Jack narrowed his eyes and swept past Mary, still carrying Teague. "Come home now, Mary," He said curtly. The captain and father was never disobeyed. Mary scurried along behind him. She and her hair were forgotten as soon as Jack cleared the doorway.

"What's happened? Why are you carrying our son! Teague, your leg is bandaged! Explain this to me, Jack!" Sarah stood in the middle of her immaculate sitting room, hands on her hips, eyes glaring. Jackie peered at Teague in awe.

Savoury smells wafted from the kitchen and Teague's stomach rumbled. By the look on his mother's face, there would be no sampling of tasty dinner treats until the full story was told. He exchanged a glance with his father. The captain set him down.

"Look mother, it's not so bad! I can walk a little," he hobbled to the couch before the fire, carefully. "It's just long distances that I can't handle, and that's temporary. Once I heal up-"

"From what?" She demanded imperiously. One raised eyebrow aimed at Jack, waiting for an answer.

Jack grinned at his son. The tale had been told already, at various ports on the way home, and the two were practiced at how to make it exciting. It had the makings of a legend.

"Your son," changing the words from 'this sailor,' "faced down a monster of the deep and not only lived to tell the tale, he ate the beast what tried to eat him!" Jack sidled like a crab sideways, hands wafting before his face and his eyes alight with excitement.

Teague recited his part. "There we were, just done provisioning in New France, and relaxing on the beach. Several of us were swimming in the ocean's tang, laughing 'n kicking up our heels. A more relaxing afternoon you could not imagine."

"When suddenly!" Jack whirled and pounced on Jackie, scooping her into his arms. The little girl let loose a startled scream, and she buried her face in her father's shoulder.

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A fin was spotted above water, heading fast for young Teague. A pirate shouted warning, but he couldn't move fast enough. The beast grabbed his leg under the water, and began to drag him off. Teague's head dunked under, he rose again to scream, the sound cut off as he was dragged under once again.

Jack was only a few feet from his boy, knee deep in the water. He had been seriously contemplating stripping off his vest, baldric and pistol to dive into the clean clear waters when his son was attacked. His heart leaped into his throat when he saw the blood staining the blue of the water. Drawing his sword, he attacked without a second thought.

The water around Teague was a boiling, frothy mess, blood turning to pink bubbles. Jack struck at the silvery hide he could see sliding past him. More blood spurted, and the beast thrashed, shaking Teague from side to side. It let go, and Jack vaguely registered someone running to Teague as the boy struggled to get up. It tried to strike at Teague again but was mortally wounded. He struck at it again, and again, until it was only a slick grey shape floating in bloody water.

Panting heavily, Jack turned to Teague, seeing the mangled leg and the crew's shocked faces. Gibbs was shouldering forward to take charge and help the wounded child. The captain looked back down at the dead shark. "Mr. Tom," he called for the pirate that cooked aboard ship. "Looks like we'll be eating well for awhile!"

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The tale ended to dead silence. Teague's sisters were looking back and forth between the men with expressions of absolute hero worship. Sarah was pale, hand pressed to her mouth. At times in their life Jack had returned home with fresh scars, once even a partially healed score on his side, stitched up only a few days previously. But there had not been an injury of this magnitude before, and Sarah was realizing how very fortunate her family had been on the high seas.

"I'll get some blankets and a pillow," she finally managed. "You can sleep before the fire, like that winter you had influenza." She dashed off to the bedrooms. Jack followed her more slowly.

She heard him enter the room behind her, but didn't turn from her rummaging for bedclothes. "Hate me for putting him in danger?" he asked quietly.

She dashed tears impatiently off her face, and made a sound of disgust. "Honestly Jack, when you talk like that, I mean from the sounds of it, you saved him. You were the closest to him, and took such quick action."

He rubbed his face. "Don't want him in danger. Don't want ANY of my family in danger."

"It's the lifestyle that provides the danger." She slammed bureau drawers shut and scooped up the linens.

Jack met her eyes slowly. "Want me to stay home?"

Sarah went soft all over. Jack's face was so tormented. "I've never asked it of you. But I also don't tell you...how I miss you when you're gone. How I ache for you to be with me."

Oh God. Jack's heart tightened. He needed to let her know just how badly he wanted to remain with her, how thoughts of a quiet life at home daily became more difficult to leave behind, and tried for self deprecation. "If I'm underfoot all the time, you'll get sick of me!"

With her armful of sheets she could not embrace him, but she could move very close and place her face inches from his. "I've no regrets Jack. I'd do it all again, every moment of my life with you. I love you. You'd best be sure of your love for me, because I won't let you go. You're stuck with me, I'm afraid."

She moved away and left the room before he could respond. Just as well, it took Jack a bit to compose himself and get his tight throat under control. Such devotion he inspired...

In bed that night, Jack wanted closeness, cuddling, comfort. He wanted Sarah's legs tight around his thighs and her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He kissed her over and over as they moved together, moaning softly into each others mouth's. Jack controlled and paced himself to give Sarah three seperate events of moaning, shaking pleasure. Then he slid his hands down to grasp her bottom and pound into her, pressing his cheek to hers and crying his satisfaction.

Sarah and Jack held each other, not willing to disentangle their bodies. Jack rested his chin on top of her head and stroked her hair. "In my years of pirating, I've saved enough swag with you, I could retire." Sarah shifted to look up at him. "Between you birthing babies and my maps, I reckon we'll be well off, eh? What say you?"

Chapter Twenty Four - Terms of the Contract

Next morning Sarah cooked sausages and boiled eggs for breakfast. Jackie kneaded bread while Teague entertained both sisters with the recipe for shark fin soup, and how it tasted to eat a man-eating seadog. Jack came into the kitchen dressed only in breeches and shirt, and immediately came up behind his wife, hugging her and nuzzling her neck. Sarah leaned slightly back into his embrace, though her hands were busy with the food, until he began biting her ear. She squirmed, trying to shove him away with her backside, but only managing to encourage his playful nature.

Jack gripped her tightly, trying to suck her entire ear into his mouth while she giggled and tried to maintain composure. He noticed his offspring watching out of the corner of his eye and released her, smiling affably. Jackie was grinning from ear to ear as her hands worked the dough. With a sigh, Jack sat down next to his eldest girl and gently stroked a hand over the shining black cap she sported. "Why'd you go and cut all your glorious hair, Princess? It was exactly like your mother's. So beautiful. Not that you're not still beautiful, but why detract even the slightest?"

Mary shoved his hand away only to clutch it in both of hers. She glanced at Sarah who watched them as she scooped links onto a plate and placed more in the frying pan. "Mother's a gorgeous creature, and I want to be like her when I grow up. A fierce pirate." She looked defiantly at her father. "But I'm NOT grown up yet! I'm just a girl."

Her expression became sullen. Jack looked a bit confused as Sarah served breakfast. It was quiet for a bit, but Jack could not stay silent for long, and his children were as garrulous as he. Topics such as the beauty of women in far ports, the different foods that could be obtained, and how Sarah's Swann under Captain Rajeev prospered were discussed. The Sparrow clan was indeed wealthy, a fact which made Jack narrow his eyes and look significantly at his lady.

As breakfast dishes were cleared, Jack got a good look at Mary, not safely sitting at the table. He stared hard, and his eyebrows bunched up dangerously. "Princess....you...your dress....you've got..." he sputtered, waving his hands vaguely.

She stared at him defiantly. "What about my dress? Girls wear dresses, you know! At least on land they do!"

"Mary, don't you talk to me that way!" Jack's voice was sharp. "I know girls wear dresses, but girls don't usually...fill them...as you do yours," he grumbled as she contritely hugged him. He felt further evidence of her body's changes and became very uncomfortable.

"Mother, I didn't fish with my friends yesterday, may I go now?" Permission was granted and she went out the door a few minutes later.

Jack hadn't moved, but suddenly he went to his wife. "Shouldn't she wear a cloak or something? A thicker dress? It's...cold. Yes. Cover her up more." He frowned and seesawed his hands.

Sarah grinned indulgently. "It's not that cold Jack, she'll be fine."

"Think I'll go for a walk." Jack shrugged into his vest and coat, darted out the door in the general direction Mary had gone. Sarah shook her head. Jack would be discreet, and not let Mary see him, would hide and satisfy himself that she was still being a child.

Jack returned a few hours later. A glance showed him the pleasant tableau of Teague reading with Jackie. He sought his wife and found her by the window where his ship could just be spotted. A cup of tea was cradled in her hand, steam curling up from it, but she did not sip it. She simply stared motionless, gazing out. Jack shut the door gently.

"Well? You've not answered me love. About me retirement."

For a moment she didn't answer. Then, "Pearl will die if she stays at anchor, Jack." She turned to face him. "And so will you."

He sat down, drummed his fingers on the side table. "Aside from wanting to be where I truly belong, at your side, I don't like pirating anymore. No adventure in it, no challenge. Ships are easy pickings, I can outrun anything what tries to catch me."

She smiled wistfully. "Doesn't matter what adventures or near misses you have. You've got to be out there." Even as she said it, Jack felt the sea longing rise up like hot pleasure in his veins. Only lying with Sarah could compare to it. He could live a long time on land, maybe up to two years even, but it would hurt.

Nonetheless, he tried to deny it. "You can't say you aren't happy to hear me talk of giving it up, staying out of danger," he said quietly.

"Jack," she sat down facing him and looked serious. "I've never asked it of you, because I knew full well the sea was in your blood and always will be. It's what I want too, I've gypsy blood! When these children are grown and have scattered, and scatter they will, do you think I'll stay content in this house? No. I'll be at your side, wind blowing through my hair and salt spray on my face."

Jack smiled softly, caught up in that vision. The grandest, most perfect dream ever. He'd lack for nothing if it were to come true, absolutely nothing.

She continued slowly, thoughtfully. "You've been offered Letters of Marque before, and forged them another time. Have you considered accepting a legitimate offer?"

He looked exceedingly startled, and bit his lower lip slowly in thought. "True enough. Worst part of such Letters from Lord Beckett was...well..Lord Beckett. But I don't know of any such legitimate offers coming my way." He looked at her shrewdly. "Unless you do?"

She sipped at her tea now. "Could be arranged. A simple letter to certain people at court. Could be done, with charm and cunning and the enticement of the skills of the best pirate in the Spanish Main." She smiled wickedly at him. "All qualities we posses in spades, si?"

He left his chair speedily. Sarah just had time to set her cup down as Jack said, "Write your letter, bit o'Sarah!" before he was on her and attacking her with kisses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It took quite a bit of correspondence in fact, but in the end Jack Sparrow stood in his sitting room and looked with some satisfaction and a bit of trepidation at the Letters of Marque that bore his name. He was now a privateer in the employ of Spain, bearing Letters signed by King Ferdinand VI, Lord Salvador Escamilla, and himself. No longer a pirate bound to hang as soon as he was captured, on the run from any ship of English persuation.

As a privateer, his life would change very little. He would continute to raid English ships, and any others Spain warred with. Being full of angry little men, no doubt he would serve a rich long life raiding "enemy" ships. Biggest difference that mattered to him was that he would be away less. During peacetime his function would be quite similar to a spy. Being sneaky and plotting others' downfall was a strength of his, he wasn't bothered by it.

The Lord had actually deigned to come to the house and speak at length with Jack and Sarah before making the offer of the Letters. He was dressed in an utterly pretentious manner, with a feathered hat bigger than one he'd remembered Barbossa wearing. Jack had been hard pressed not to laugh at him as he talked in circles around him, in a smattering of English and Spanish. The pompous Lord was suitably impressed despite Jack's filthy appearance, making respectful comments about "the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow that so frustrated the Royal Navy of England," a compliment that made Jack preen happily. Jack followed it up with comments about "legendary" and "never hanged" and "out of the Locker, out of the belly of the beastie," further establishing the desirability of his services to the Spanish crown.

The man remained, or seemed to remain, unconvinced until Sarah presented a gleaming pink diamond on each palm. Jack jerked his head in the direction of the rare jewels while casually mentioning how he happened to have fetched them from the ocean's floor. The satisfied curve of the aristocrat's lips was hardly needed to remind Jack of his conviction that it was greed what made the world go round, his own no exception.

After his household settled down and he coupled a satisfyingly long time with Sarah, Jack settled himself at the window and looked out at the moon. One hand stole to his bare chest and he traced the words of the tattoo, the second he got after his branding and the third of his life, if you counted all the words on his back as "one."

Sans Pays.

Without Country.

Being branded a pirate made Jack a non person, cast out in every way of the world in which he lived. Though some of society's mores had bored him, though he chafed under some of the niceties and airs all citizens were expected to put on, still...it was his life! All ended because of Beckett's jealousy and vindictiveness. One man obsessed with perfectionism and controlling him, wanting more than Jack was willing to give.

Cutler Beckett tried to master Jack, a thing Jack tolerated from no one, not even in his tender youth. Being owner of his own ship gave Jack a bit more leeway than other skippers of the East India Trading Company, and for awhile it was enough to keep his employer at bay. Beckett longed for more however, even cornering Jack in his office one day and attempting to take what he wanted.

Jack Sparrow was never adverse to some friendly fucking, but it was his choice to make, and he most emphatically did not choose this pathetic little man. He humilated Cutler, and took his revenge as well as pleased his own sense of right and wrong by "liberating the cargo," as Beckett so quaintly expressed it. Even in the monstrous unfairness of his punishment, Jack was aware of the bitter irony that he was punished by a man whose tendencies would earn him a hanging.

Piracy and utter freedom eventually suited Jack to a T, and cynicism set in after awhile. His ship became his country.

Jack got up and stood by the bed, holding a candle and looking at Sarah. She slept peacefully, trusting him to look after her. Trusting him to love her, to return to her, to be a good man. He stood there gazing at the lines of her face and the curves of her shape until the candle burned down to his fingers and went out. Then he crawled in and curled close beside her warm soft body. 

He had a country again.
 

 

Chapters 25-28

Comments

[djarum99.livejournal.com]

Hey, darlin'! Loved this one, Teague's tattoo and Jack and Sarah dreaming of sailing together. I enjoyed the bit of Jack backstory hear, and the evils of Cutler Beckett :-)

You obviously love these characters, and write their story and their lives together with such energy and vivid detail. Brava, love - keep posting ♥ ♥

[soleilpirate.livejournal.com]

Thanks again for kind words! I'm starved for them lately.

I do love them, very much, and what's distressing me about the fandom lately is that loving one character seems to mean hating another. You and I are good friends, we play to gether nicely, and yet you ship Jack/Elizabeth and I ship Will/ELizabeth, Jack/Other. The secret is, neither of us claims to have a monopoly on the truth and we each admire aspects of the others viewpoint. *sigh* Isn't it nice to celebrate our differences?

[djarum99.livejournal.com]

It is nice to celebrate and respect each other's differences - and, it's about the loving the pirates and having fun with that. I'll read any pairing and well-written fic if it's about the love :-)

Things are pretty quiet in the fandom lately, in general. Summertime, I think, hopefully not permanent. How are things at DI?

[soleilpirate.livejournal.com]

DI is very quiet right now. For me anyway. I seem to have about three readers left over there. Lots of Sands fic up at top of the page where the newest stuff lives.

[djarum99.livejournal.com]

Sands fic? Still? Is he all misunderstood and squishable, or morally deficient and IC?

A lot of folks are out of school, travelling, etc. There are new people still coming into the POTC fandom, though, so keep the faith :-)