Immortal Beloved post AWE prologue through six

[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, character death both minor and major

Prologue

Will Turner stretched luxuriously, watching his fishing line bob on the water. He sighed contentedly, wood of the dock warm beneath him, scent of the ocean in his nostrils. It had been a year since he'd ended his duties as the Ferryman, and this was still as close as he cared to get to the water. Perhaps one day he would want to sail the open seas again. For now, he was quite content on land.

It had been a year of many adjustments. The sound of children was first and foremost. He'd Ferried a few children, a heart wrenching task, and they stayed silent. He'd had to adjust to having a bed to sleep in, rather than a bunk, and a warm lovely body to sleep beside. Occasionally the thunder of his own heartbeat startled him. Desire was another thing that took him by surprise. Desire for his wife, for food, for warmth and sleep when he was tired, these were things that had been lost to him for the years he was Captain of the Dutchman. A mercy he supposed, for otherwise he would have surely run mad.

Another change, one he could not yet bring himself to speak of to anyone, was the knowledge he still retained of the deaths at sea. Before, as the Ferryman, it had been strong and urgent, a bell tolling in his mind. Not so anymore, no compulsion existed to serve that tolling. However, he would sometimes wake in the night, pause in his meals, stumble when he walked. And he would look out to sea, if he could see it, and wait until the faint throbbing cry ended.

Surely those feelings would pass in time, he reasoned. His thoughts were interrupted by a splash on the water's surface, perhaps twenty yards beyond his fishing line. Was it a fish? Had to be a large one to cause a splash that size. There was a ripple on the water again, then Will saw the flash of a silvery tail. Then what looked like a child's head broke the surface briefly.

Will tensed, set his pole aside and stood up preparing to dive. How a child had gotten entagled with a fish he did not know, but to save it from a drowning was his only thought. Those quiet still children aboard the Dutchman were not something easily laid aside, he would not know of more if he could help it. Before he could move, the tail splashed quite close to him, and that head surfaced again, the face clearly visible.

Will stiffened in shock. She rose higher out of the water, and now he could see the tail was attached to her body in place of legs. She caught hold of the edge of the dock and pulled herself up. "Hi Daddy," Joie de Mer said shyly. "I sneaked away from Mommy to come visit you!"

Chapter One - Back to Sea

So that they would not be seperated from their friends by both the Caribbean and Atlantic oceans, Elizabeth and Will sold the snug little home Elizabeth had kept. They moved their family to the house in France that Sarah offered to them. It was sold to them "for a franc, and other considerations."

Elizabeth had been tutored in French, but Will was hopelessly lost. Fortunately, Esther could speak it as well, and between the two women he was given the basics on the voyage across the Atlantic. Esther and her husband desired to be closer to Sarah. As well, Will and Elizabeth had Will's father with them, and so had the extra help they needed. With the savings Joshua had hoarded over the years, they bought a house not far from the Sparrow one.

Perhaps it was seeing Calypso again, and being on the water. Perhaps it was something else; say, his restless wild nature. Whatever it was, Jack felt the desire for the storm of adventure stirring in him. The son of angel's luck and devil's cunning felt it as well.

He went to his mother while she tended to mending during her youngest daughter's nap. "Mama, I think Daddy's going to sail soon."

Sarah raised her eyes to him without lifting her bent head. "I imagine so. In his sleep he keeps muttering, 'Brace the foreyard.'"

Teague stood up straighter. At eleven he was already nearly as tall as his mother. "I want to go with him."

Startled, Sarah dropped the shirt she held. One of Teague's own, it was. He doggedly pressed on, seeing her face. "I could be his cabin boy!"

She picked the shirt back up and looked for the lost needle. "I can't spare you Teague. You'll have to wait. Thirteen is plenty old enough to turn pirate."

"Mother, I'm old enough already! Tall enough for the duties of cabin boy, and strong enough! Father'll go easy enough on me until I prove myself, I know he will!"

"He will not play favorites with you simply because he sired you, he expects the very best on his ship. Not that it matters, he and I discussed this long ago, and we agreed that if you wanted it, you needed to be thirteen to do it. I would rather you be sixteen, but he talked me down. You'll have to thank him for that."

"Thirteen. That's two years off!" Teague grumbled defiantly.

Down the shirt dropped again, and she rose, lightning in her eyes. Teague backed up a step. "Yes indeed! Time enough for you to think long and hard about this choice! A pirate's son you may be, but you have endless choices! You've seen the brand on your father's arm, do you think he put it there himself, like one of his tattoos? Ask him about the times he's barely escaped hanging. I'm sure there's more than one occasion. The discussion is over. Now run along to your chores!"

Tall as he was, Teague knew full well that his mother would not hesitate to use her hand on him if he continued to argue the matter. Respectfully he nodded to her, and took himself off as told.

Sarah dropped her head onto her hands when he was out of sight. She sighed, her heart heavy. She'd so hoped he would chose a slightly more lawful career. It wasn't that she was ashamed of Jack and what he was, on the contrary. She admired his good man's soul and was intrigued by his wicked wiles. But for her children, she desired them to walk fully informed into their choices, to have their eyes open every moment.

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They dined in candlelight in her sitting room. Jack's eyes wandered over the wall tapestries, the thick pillows scattered about the floor and piled on her couch. Halfway through the meal he sat back in his seat and took a drink of wine.

"Do me now," he requested in a sultry tone.

She raised heated eyes to his. "How?"

"Mouth," he replied in that same lustful voice.

She rose silently from the table, and he pushed his chair back and went quickly to the sofa. He flopped down on it, still holding his wine glass. She lowered her head below his waist, unlacing his breeches and taking him fully between her lips.

A hiss of pleasure revealed her success. Her expertise in oral skills was amazing. Jack held himself back so that it would take a long time. Near the end, he arched his back, moaning, and curled a hand in her hair. The gentle scrape of her teeth on his sensitive head and her hand fisting up and down his shaft finished him.

Afterward, he assembled himself back into fierce pirate. Red bandanna trailing from his hair, scabbard across his chest, pistol tucked within easy reach at his sash, and coat fluttering around his legs. She watched from her entryway.

Placing his treasured hat carefully on his head, he strode to the door, and her. Pausing a moment by her side, he hugged her briefly around the waist, then walked out, letting his hand trail up her side and across her bosom as he moved away.

Sarah turned and smiled at his retreating back. "See you later, pirate," she murmured fondly.

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

Perhaps three weeks later, an unexpected visitor arrived at her doorstep. Mr. Cotton looked old and mournful, dead macaw held reverently in his outstretched hands. "Oh, Joseph. Poor Joseph."  Sarah drew him into the warmth of the house.

He must have left the Black Pearl after it happened, and made his way back to her. "I should have known," she apologized as she wrapped the bird in an old towel and searched for a proper casket for the small thing. "I should have known to give Youth water to your parrot as well!"

Though he lacked a tongue, Mr. Cotton was still in posession of a larnyx. He could make noise, and did, weeping despairingly into his hands.

"We'll get you another one!" Mary crooned softly, climbing into his lap and putting tender little hands on his whisker rough cheeks. "You'll talk again, Grampa Cotton!"

"Meantime, you can accompany us on our voyage." Sarah told him. "The Sarah's Swann is just in, and I've arranged for us to go to the South China sea." She glanced with severity at her eldest child. "Teague needs to see more of pirates, and it's time he saw more of his grandfather."

Teague looked a bit confused. The children had known only Gibbs and Cotton as grandparents, but they knew the fact of their ancestry if not the reality.

Chapter Two - Going Visiting

Captain Rajeev was only willing to take them so far however. When the sight of the Devil's Throat loomed, he refused to go any further. "Begging your pardon Miss Sarah, but it's too dangerous! I'm afeared for you to be going at all!"

"Oh fine!" snapped Sarah, exasperated. "Give me a boat then! I'll take myself the rest of the way! You've two weeks to return, or there'll be the devil to pay!"

So they rowed into Shipwreck Cove, Cotton insisting on taking the oars. Just like last time, the Keeper of the Code had advance warning of their arrival from some unknown source, and met them at the lopsided dock. He put out a hand and lifted Sarah delicately to stand beside him, mindful of the small child she held.

"About time you came back, Sarah." That voice could still cause her stomach to tremble.

"You remember me? How delightful!"

"You're a hard one to forget, green eyes. You been looking after my Jackie?"

"I gave him three children. How's that for a start?"

Captain Teague nodded gravely. "Aye, I reckon that's adventure enough even for Jack."
 
He brought her to his ship home, a sloop named Sea Strumpet, a name that made her quirk her lips upwards.  It was clear that Captain Teague did not lack for female company even in his old age, for the touch of a woman's hands were apparent everywhere.

What was most curious was that to Sarah's eye, experienced as she was in keeping a home, there was more than one woman. Several different females cooked, cleaned, and entertained here. Currently, there was no sign of them visible, but for the steaming kettle on the small ship's stove. Captain Teague poured hot water into mismatched cups while her children began to poke curious fingers everywhere.

The man turned to serve Sarah, only to find that his grandchildren had scattered. Teague was respectfully admiring the stash of guitars, but Mary and Jackie were actively handling his boots and a spare hat. "Here now!" he exclaimed, setting the cups down hastily.

He grabbed Jackie just as the feathered hat slipped down over her face when she plopped it on her head. "You're just like my Jack. Into everything. Have you no sense of personal space, girl?" His tone was fondly exasperated.

An odd choking sound issued from Cotton standing quietly in the corner. He was laughing. Sarah could not hold back her own giggles either. Captain Teague looked in astonishment at them, then broke out in deep guffaws of amusement. He sat down with the same grace of a tiger that Jack possesed, still holding Jackie, albeit gingerly.

The two year old immediately began playing with his rings. He stared bemusedly at his granddaughter. "I suppose Jack has told you all about me. What a terrible father I was."

Sarah's eyes widened slightly at this unexpected candor. The truth was, Jack rarely spoke of his father. Early in their marriage, he'd told her a few snippets only. "On the contrary Captain, your son speaks of you with utmost respect. He has mentioned, on a personal note, that you were...emotionally distant...with him."

The ghost of a smile touched the man's lips as his other granddaughter crept closer to his knee. She was gazing at him with frank curiosity in those big brown eyes. "I suppose as a pirate captain, I felt that I could not let down my guard. And I didn't know how to tell him, that I loved him."

He glanced at Sarah who sat quietly listening. She took a sip of the drink he'd offered her, tongue savoring the exquisite warmth. Some kind of alcohol had been added to it. Teague continued, "The wisdom of old age and hindsight helps me not a whit with him now."

"If it helps any," she offered, "he seems to have learned the lesson. He's quite affectionate with his own children."

"Can you play these?" little Teague interrupted suddenly. He was still in front of the guitars, looking eagerly at his namesake.

"I can indeed, young man," heartily he put aside the little girls crawling on him and picked up an instrument. "This one, I made when your father was only a bit older than you are now." He strummed his fingers, producing magic, and the children settled by Sarah, looking rapt.

For the full two weeks she'd given her employee to return, Sarah stayed with Teague. He showed her all over the town, and she met a few of the very pirates that had tried to tempt her from Jack when she'd been here last. By the arm around her shoulder and the steely glint in his eye, Captain Teague made it clear to all that she and all with her were under his protection.

Perhaps the most exciting part of the visit, for Sarah, was when Captain Teague showed her the bathhouses. He explained that there were seperate buildings for men and women, and cross gender visits were permitted only by invitation. With a raised brow, she asked if he'd ever been in the women's bathhouse? With a smirk that was so familiar to her, he gravely assured her that he had indeed. Then innocently shooed her towards the doorway, and said that he would look after little Teague in the men's bathhouse.

It was absolutely beautiful inside, patterned after Roman bathhouses Sarah had read about. A deep sunken pool was surrounded by smooth tiles and elegant wooden benches. Through a low arch on the far side, a smaller pool which was clearly quite hot steamed. Several women were lounging there, and they turned to watch Sarah as she led her daughters further in.

To her right was an alcove to undress and gather towels and soap, and here she ducked to compose herself. These women were pirate wives, like herself, and though she was delighted at the prospect of female companionship, she was also nervous. Jack Sparrow was quite notorious, and it was clear from the last time they were here in Shipwreck Town that many pirates would like nothing better than to knock him down from his high status. Surely some form of this competition existed even among the women. 

When she approached them, holding Mary's hand and balancing Jackie on her hip, all of them draped in naught but towels, she held her head regally. One of the women spoke to her. "There's a smaller pool just here, for the little ones. It's not so hot."

She indicated it with a wave of her hand, the children's pool seperated from the larger by a narrow ledge. Sitting on the edge to dangle her legs, Sarah murmured her thanks and allowed her daughters to slip into the water. A bench ran around the side which Jackie could stand on and splash in the water without fear of it going over her head. Mary played in the deeper part, which was still shallow enough for her.

"You're Jack Sparrow's woman, aren't you?" Another lady asked, eyes bright with excitement. Fat red curls bounced on her freckled shoulders as she leaned forward eagerly. "What's he like?"

"Oh please!" The one who had first spoken to Sarah rolled her eyes expressively. She was a shapely blonde. "We all know what he's LIKE, after all!" Baudy laughter followed her comment.

Sarah was not offended. She knew full well how lusty a man Jack was, after all. And the ease in which these women acknowledged that put her at ease, rather than put her off. She smiled along with the laughter. "He's just a man like any other, I suppose. Wants his belly fed once a day and his cock pleased thrice." She leaned conspiratorially closer to keep her innocent children from hearing the ribald words.

That definitely included her in the group, and there was more baudy laughter. "And these are his daughters?" inquired the blonde.

The redhead leaned closer and studied them as they played. "Oh yes, unmistakable. Hmph! They could blend in among Teague's begotten, so alike they are!"

Sarah was surprised. "Captain Teague has more children?"

"Oh aye!" The redhead said jovially. "I've three of them myself! That man started with Jack and won't stop...not till about ten minutes after they lay him in the ground!"

Many tales were exchanged. Sarah learned much more about the workings of this remote, secure pirate place. Children thrived here, there was even a school. And surprisingly, or perhaps not if you considered the power a female wielded in her home, the small society encased in the dormant volcano was strongly matriarchal in flavour. Sarah also learned another story, about Mr. Cotton.

The story was told by an older woman, plump and grey haired. Her lightly wrinkled face was serene as she spoke. "Joe Cotton was a very boastful man when he was younger. A Pirate Lord who shall remain nameless acquired, at great personal risk and effort, a pair of pink diamonds, the most rare diamonds in the world. From this infamous pirate, Cotton stole the diamonds. An amazing feat indeed, but unfortunately he told far too many people of his trick. The pirate captured Cotton, and demanded the location of his treasure. Cotton refused, but bragged that it would never be found. In a rage, the man ordered that Cotton's tongue be cut out."

The older woman shook her head sorrowfully. "A poor decision indeed, for now the secret of the pink diamonds will never be known."

Chapter Three - Children's Tales

The hammer rang joyfully in the forge, echoing against the walls. At last, at last he was back doing the work he loved best, the work he'd begun just past his childhood. Will glowed like the red hot metal as the blade of the sword took shape beneath his efforts. Sweat beaded on his skull and dripped down into his eyes, he paid it little heed.

As he worked, he chanted the names of the things around him, translating them to French, practicing the habit of actually thinking in that language. Anvil. Enclume. Hammer. Marteau. Bright glowing metal. Bright métal rougeoyant. Folded steel. Replié acier. That for him had been the bitterest struggle when he and his family had settled here. His father still had not mastered it, and was resigned to being only passingly fluent.

The sound of the shop door opening caught his attention, and he paused in his strokes. Willy was coming in, and it looked to be quite windy outside, from his disshelved hair and the way he was clinging to his jacket. His son pushed the door shut against the biting wind and turned to face him. "Mother says a storm is brewing. She wants you to come home."

The meaning came easily, now, after so much practice. He knew he should speak French, but with his children he preferred to be at ease. In English he replied, "All right. I'll be done shortly, just want to finish this one. Sit by the fire, Willy."

The sturdy boy settled on the hearth by the warmth of the fire and watched his father with great interest. Having him home day in and day out was still a precious gift that Willy clung to, and was sometimes afraid would not last. Every day he squeezed in as much time with him as lessons and chores allowed. He well remembered what it was like when he was younger, and his mother was a thin sad shadow who told him tales of a noble man who might come back one day.

Those voyages at sea, on a pirate ship, to see his father were his most treasured early memories. Little could mar them for him. He sat quietly and observed his hero at work. Sharp eyes made note of every move he made. How he wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, and make weapons as beautiful and strong as his! He was old enough, and would soon ask his father if he could apprentice with him. Willy wiggled with joy at the thought, knowing how happy it would make his papa. 

Will finished his work and plunged the new blade in a tub of cool water, sending up great plumes of steam. He was wreathed momentarily in it, presenting a ghostly figure with a grim face. Willy was sharply reminded of how he had looked on those voyages, when he captained a strange, deathly ship. "Papa!" he blurted, suddenly scared.

"What's the matter?" Only a moment, and there was his father, looking concerned.

Willy bit his lips. "Nothing. Are you ready?"

The beloved man broke into a grin, looking boyish still. "Come on, let's go relieve your mother's worry over our whereabouts." He grasped his son's hand and they went out the door together. Above them, as he locked the door securely, the sign thumped steadily against the wall, driven by wind. William Turner, Master Swordsmith.

"What was it like, Papa? When you were...when you were Captain on that ship?" Willy's heart thudded in his chest. A stormy night, walking home in the dark, was hardly the time for such chilling tales. But he wanted the thrill, wanted his blood to freeze and then race faster, all the while clinging to that warm hand that promised in it's strength to keep him warm and safe always. He wanted to gasp at shadows, only to turn to the comfortable face and laugh at his fears with him. 

The man walking with him sighed heavily. "I've often thought you would ask that question. I've thought of many different answers I could give you, including that you are too young to know, and that it is none of your business."

Willy's heart sank at those words. The next words made him hold his breath in hope. "But neither of those answers is the right one. Your curiosity deserves to be answered. I just...don't know how."

A spattering of rain hit them, cold and sharp in their faces. They walked a few more paces in silence. Will took a deep breath. "It was like...well I spend a great deal of time in an otherworldly sea. Like dreaming, like being rocked in an enormous loving hand, all the while in sight of a shore wreathed in a gold glow and obscuring fog."

Willy was spellbound. Why, it wasn't scary at all! His father went on. "I didn't take bodies, I took souls aboard my ship. And they were as substantial as flesh, but looked...different...felt, sounded." He trailed off, having no words in any language nor any comparison for this world. "Most of them went willingly to that other shore, but at times," he glanced sideways at the eagerly listening boy. "Sometimes the shore was not golden but black, with the sound of tormented cries. That was when men swore to serve before the mast, and I gained crewmates."

Their house appeared in the distance, bright lights twinkling in the windows, a safe port against the increasing force of the storm. Father and son bent against the power of the wind as increasingly colder rain slicked them shiny. They reached the front door and were welcomed by a smiling Elizabeth and young Jack.

Inside it was warm and bright and welcome. It was what Elizabeth had always represented to him. She drew him in and caressed him, kissed him. They sat down to dinner, such a pleasant normalcy that it was nigh on heart breaking. Looking around at the happy faces of his wife, father, and children, Will recalled the swaying wood under his feet, the creak of ropes and the smell of tar and the ever present saltwater that would not dry off no matter how hot the sun burned him. He was healed another tiny fraction, made just that tiny little bit more whole. 

Chapter Four - Winter Holidays

His home beckoned him with light from the windows, and the smell of smoke from the chimney. He was cold, so cold. Spain was much colder than the Caribbean during winter, and Jack felt the effects strongly. He reached the door and opened it, stepping in to find chaos ruling within.

Sarah was attempting to fold laundry, while Teague fussed and cried on the low sofa before the fire. Had he been ill? His boy looked pale. Mary had evidently been taking a bath, but had left her tub and was currently dripping all over the clean piles of laundry. Jackie was busily unfolding everything her mother had just carefully folded, while Mary bossed her and Sarah tried to manage all three of them at once. Jack could not help bursting into laughter at the scenario.

Sarah's head flung up at the sound, and she knocked over the basket of clothes in her eagerness to reach him. His daughters swarmed after him, and Teague got up in his nightgown and came more slowly, coughing but still calling to his father. Jackie was quite anxious that she not be left out, and was shouting at the top of her lungs, "Me too! Me too!"

Jack scooped her up and tossed her repeatedly in the air, changing her anxious hollering to gurgles of joy. "For such a small thing, you've a voice like a storm itself, eh?"

Sarah noticed him shivering and immediately shooed him towards the fire. She bent to place more wood on it and build it up but Jack settled his young daughter on his arm and grabbed her wrist. "Can do tha' Sarah. You look done in."

"Done in, that's kind. I'm a fright." She tried to smooth her tangled hair and brushed selfconsciously at the stains on her gown. Deep circles lay under her eyes. The house was immaculate, she had been cleaing and baking all day in anticipation of Navidad. "I've got to get a towel for Mary." She moved away and Jack flopped down on the sofa while Teague curled up under the blanket again.

She fetched him a cup of hot coffee, liberally laced with rum of course, and Jack drank it gratefully while he recounted his latest adventures to his children. Sarah finished with the clothes while listening. Of course, none of them wanted to go to bed that night and fought off sleep with sudden bouts of hyperactivity. It was always so when their father first returned. He held each of them, singing a sea chanty in a low voice, and then helped her gather rosy cheeked nodding little ones into beds.

At last they were alone and free to reunite for themselves. Clothes were stripped off, lingering kisses shared, until they tumbled naked and free beneath the covers of their bed. Her skin slid against his as she wrapped her arms snugly around his waist and wound her legs around his thighs.

"God, you're so soft Sarah," he groaned appreciatively. She was suckling at his neck, down low near the line of his chest. His penis stirred interestedly where it was pressed between her thighs.

More exploring of each other's bodies occurred. Jack lay on his stomach and Sarah rubbed his shoulders while her bare bottom rubbed his lower back. Then she was on her back, Jack straddling her hips and gently taking each finger of both hands one by one into his mouth and suckling. Jack leaned back slightly, encouraging her to trail her hands all over his chest and stomach, down over his hips to his thighs. It was meant to be a light soothing caress but it left him rampant with desire.

In the end, she lay on her stomach while Jack again straddled her hips, backwards. He was touching the backs of her legs, tormenting really, for his fingers were tracing erotic designs that made her tremble with lust. Suddenly he captured her ankles and tucked them securely under his elbows, trapping her feet. Lightly he traced his fingertips over the tender soles.

Sarah yelped with laughter and attempted to pull away. She was hardly in a position to do so, and besides, Jack was far too heavy for her to shift. Jack continued to scrabble his fingers, now attacking the soft arches. He was beginning to chuckle at his wife's predicament. Sarah was red-faced with helpless giggling, fists weakly pounding the mattress. Her toes were curling defensively which he found absolutely adorable. Finally he released her and moved swiftly so his body covered hers from head to toe.

He held her while she caught her breath, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of her hair. An impatient wiggle made him rise back up, and he looked at her back. Fine white lines interrupted her smooth skin. Jack stared at them for a moment, remembering the night he told Sarah that sex with him would mark her a pirate's woman. He never would have guessed he was speaking prophetically.

She rolled fluidly in his arms, rubbing pleasantly against his body until she faced him. Her creamy thighs parted beneath him. "Were you waiting for something Jack?" she inquired with an arched eyebrow.

"Not at all love," he answered, settling himself more fully between her legs and entering her. He thrust hard, knowing she liked it that way, but kept the pace slow. He leaned on his elbows, cradling Sarah's face between his forearms, kissing her as they made love. She undulated sweetly up into him on every stroke, softly moaning and eagerly opening her lips for his mouth. Twice she tightened up her whole body and squealed and he swallowed her sounds with groans of his own.

"You're so eager Sarah," he said roughly several minutes later. She undid his bandanna and ran her fingers through his damp hair.

"You make me eager, Jack. You're good to me." Her hands moved to his shoulders and held tight. Jack moved faster over her, his breath coming fast and short now. Sarah was making those characteristic growling noises that signalled an impending explosion. Jack shifted down her hips a bit, seeking a new angle, and drove himself in and out quickly.

"Oh God!" Sarah cried, eyes rolling back in her head. "Oooh Jack, there! There!" And she was shuddering and quaking and the hot hungry heat tightening around him was so good.

Jack moaned and cupped her small shoulders, keeping her from bouncing away from his now fast and furious movements. "I love how you come," he gritted. "Your face...your voice....mmm it's so good!" He moaned again, loudly, "Feels like waves breaking on my cock!"

Every and all rational thought fled. All he was aware of was the soft warm body compliant under him, the tight sweet hole he drove into over and over. Tiny little Sarah took all he could give and gave back just as good, held down while he fucked and fucked and fucked. His body tightened all over, heat coiled in his balls, and the pleasure they shared was like sheets of flame consuming their bodies. Sarah held him close as he bucked in exquisite release.

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They slept entwined where passion's spending left them. So it often was when he returned home. Sometime in the night Mary woke and crept to her parent's bedroom. She stood by her father's head, being very quiet. She was so quiet she was the quietest thing in the room. So quiet that Jack startled awake to find her staring at him solemnly.

"Are you all right Princess? Did you have a bad dream?" Jack sat up, easing Sarah's body from his and placing her head on the pillow. Carefully he covered himself with a sheet, and Sarah as well. While as parents they agreed it made no sense to raise their children as if their bodies were shameful, there was also something to be said for at least a little modesty. Frankly, Jack did not care for just anyone to see him nude and vulnerable, so the arrangement suited him.

"Papa, I want to hug you. Can I sleep with you and Mama?" She rubbed her big brown eyes and yawned, already beginning to climb up next to him.

"Just a moment love," he pulled on his breeches and took his daughter into his lap. "Ye can cuddle awhile, I don't mind that. But then it's off to your own bunk, savvy?"

"Si, Papa," she snuggled herself into his chest and laid her head trustingly on his shoulder.

Jack melted into his daughter's sweet hug. He laid his cheek on her head, stroked her back slowly, and felt the silkiness of her hair. It lay straight quite a long ways down her back. Sarah had rebraided the blue bauble he had given her as Mary's hair grew longer, so it always rested against the curve of her neck.

He felt her breathing even into deep slow snuffles as she lay in his arms with one hand petting softly along her little body. Eventually, he shifted so he could stand up. He laid Mary back into her bed and returned to find that Sarah had shifted, causing the sheet to slide down and expose her lovely breasts.

Delighted, he lay down next to her to savor them with his soft lips and bristly mustache. The natural consequence of that was her waking, and he slid down her body to drape her legs over his shoulders and continued to taste her. It was a very pleasant interlude, finishing with her hand on him touching in all the ways he liked best.

Chapter Five - Feliz Navidad

Sarah woke quite slowly the next morning. She truly had been so tired last night, and Jack's attentions to her body left lingering, albeit wonderful, aftereffects. It didn't help that beside her in the bed, a warm golden body was curled. He smelled of sea spray, sweet rum, and sex.

She pressed close to his lean whipcord body. She could stay surrounded by that warm sleek strength all day. However, hunger and the need to supervise her mischievous brood drove her to her feet. While she was dressing, Jack stirred and woke. He watched her at her morning toilette for a bit, then came up behind her. Without even needing to be asked, he tugged the laces of her bodice tighter and tied them, then slid his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. He sighed deeply.

"Are you happy, Sarah?" he asked in a low voice.

Her eyebrows shot up. She half turned her head, reaching back and lightly touching his cheek with her fingertips. "Que pasa, Jack Sparrow? Woken in an introspective mood?"

"I must confess..for several years I've been cruising the Spanish Main, picking off merchants, fleeing from the Royal Navy, then coming home. It's no' enough. I'm bored."

Sarah's stomach contracted painfully. Her chest tightened, she wasn't sure she remembered how to breathe. "Oh," she said in a very small voice.

His hands tightened on her. "Not wit' you, I hasten to add!" He realized belatedly how his words must have sounded and dragged her around for a kiss. "Not with you. You're the most exciting woman I've ever known, bar none, love."

She couldn't bring herself to look at him yet. He'd frightened her badly. He was still talking. "I just want a bit more adventure."

"Without the spectre of death hanging over one or both of us?" she remarked dryly. Her heart was beginning to calm now.

"Aye, exactly!!" He grinned and waved his hands as if in applause for her smart answer. "I figure we can hare off and see parts of the world you've never been to. The Orient, perhaps. Not been there in years."

Sarah went to the looking glass and began brushing out her hair. Jack went to the pile of clothes on the chair and dug something out of his pouch. "Brought you a gift, darling." He raised his fist, and chains of fine gold dangled from his fingers. Diamonds glistened at regular intervals along the links. "Want to braid them in your lovely hair...see them glistening when I look at you, make all the townsfolk jealous."

He moved up behind her once again, and took her brush from her. Sarah closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Sometimes he did this for her, tended to her mane. The first time, it had surprised her that a pirate would know so much about doing ladies hair. But she knew that his own wild look actually took time and attention to maintain, and in fact was something he was quite proud of. He gently moved his hands through her hair, pulling most of it up into a neat chignon at the base of her skull, with the rest tumbling down around her face to her shoulders. He braided the jewelery on either side of her bun, tucking it carefully in so it was not instantly visible, but glittered for any who were looking.

By the time he was done, she was lighthearted and reassured once again. He'd kept sneaking kisses and nibbles at her neck, and tenderly stroking her hair as he dressed it. "Gracias, Jack. Now I'd better see what our ninos are up to!"

Sure enough, Teague had gotten his baby sister up and was trying to toast the bread. Meanwhile, Mary was searching the larder for Sarah's homemade preserves. Jackie sucked her thumb, staring at Teague as he held the toasting fork.

Their mother put her hands on her hips and shook her head in amusement. She was cutting up fruit for a light repast when Jack finished his own grooming and wandered from the bedroom. Traditionally, people tended to eat lightly or not at all for Navidad, saving the feasting for after the midnight worship.

"We're going into town today, Jack," she commented as she offered him a handful of currents, cranberries, and sliced plums. "Come with us?"

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

She wrapped serapes around Teague and Mary, Jack put Jackie up on his shoulders, and Sarah donned the mantilla, a black lace shawl worn over her hair. Jack noted that the diamonds sill winked through the lace. They strolled down the street, the elder children skipping ahead of them happily.

At the market, they chose a large quantity of turrón, a sticky treat made from almonds, honey, and eggs. Sarah was indulgent and passed out pieces to each child, and Jack as well, who was licking his lips and looking hopefully at the sticky bars. Afterward, the children found some of their friends and played around the booths of the market, while Sarah and her pirate meandered about more slowly.

"Well?" he pressed eagerly. "What do you think about going on a bit of adventure with me? We could have a great run on the way, and land with enough swag for me to dress you in silk and furs!"

"And shall we take the children with us again on this venture?" she murmured, knowing the answer. One of her neighbors passed them, nodding a courteous greeting while her eyes took curious note of Jack at her side. 

"Well...they have sailed with us before...but truth be told, I made it easy. I chose easy targets when we pirated those times, and took greater risks before you were brought aboard, so the crew would indulge us. Besides, I was thinking of this voyage being just the two of us." His vice became a coaxing wheedle that she knew she would not be able to resist for long. "Think of it, eh? Just like when we first met!"

"Who looks after them then, Jack? We'd be gone for months, I'm not at all sure I can leave them so long!"

He stopped her, and pointed both index fingers in her face in emphasis. "The Turners owe us a favour or several. And you know they'd be well cared for."

She smiled, but pushed past him and kept walking. "If it comes to that, I'd rather Joshua and Esther come to the house and look after them. They only have Becky, and they're closer."

"Then you'll go with me?" he asked eagerly. Just then, another couple that Sarah was friendly with strolled past. This time, the exchange was more than a nod. Though the gentleman looked a bit uncomfortable, his lady dragged him eagerly over to the couple.

"Buen día Senora Sparrow. Este es tu marido?" (Good morning Mrs. Sparrow. Is this your husband?)

Sarah smiled awkwardly. "Buenos días. Sí, se trata de Jack, justo a casa después de un viaje." (Good morning. Yes, this is Jack, just home from a voyage.)

Eagerly, the Spanish matron turned shiny eyes to Jack. She might have assaulted him with many questions in a language he was not terribly good at, but for the sudden clamor, ending in the loud sobs of what was unmistakably one of his children. Jack leaped towards the sound, rounding a booth to see a fruit cart just beyond. Evidently Jackie had tried to pick an apple, chosen one that held back the pile, which then tumbled down onto her.

She was surrounded by apples and wailing brokenly. Jack scooped up his toddler and murmured soothing nonsense to her. "Tha's all right, my little precious, only apples, naught can hurt ye when Papa's near." Jacqueline whined a few more times, wiggled deeper into his embrace, then sighed softly. He tucked her under his chin and turned to see Sarah moving towards him. The other couple were walking off, but the Senora was casting longing eyes back at them.

"Senora Alveraz wishes me to bid you a good day, Jack," Sarah said, using rather mocking tones and a slight smile. "She will no doubt call on us at a later date, to catch up on all the latest news you might bring from far ports." Jack groaned. "I distinctly heard her remark to her husband, as they moved off, that you were quite 'distinguished looking.' Ahem."

"Shall I have an answer to my proposal now, luv?" he asked plaintively.

Sarah hesitated. "It's the holidays, dear Captain." She knew how he loved it when she called him Captain. "Let me think about it, and I'll answer you after the New Year."

Jack nodded, and placed a hand at the small of her back. They kept walking, and Jackie wiggled to get down. She trotted off after her siblings on her short little legs. "There's no real hurry. I planned to winter with you, I'll not be leaving again until spring."

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

When they returned home, Teague showed his father the finished Nativity scene and asked him to set it up with him. Jack was most agreeable, and very intrigued by the various pieces his son proudly showed him. Teague had made most of the figures himself, the rest had been bought at the market.

"Excellent detail, my boy," Jack commented, turning the Virgin Mary over and over in his fingers. "You've got the folds of her veil, a smile on her face, even little feet carved out here."

Teague grinned proudly, his chest puffing out as his father admired his work. His eyes could not be glowing more brightly. "And did you notice Papa? She looks like Madre!"

"I did notice. And the Holy Infant bears a striking resembelance to wee Jacqueline," he observed with a twist of his lips. "You obviously enjoy the woodworking, Teague."

"I want to set up a little shop, Mama wants me to 'pprentice to the local woodworker, but..." his son trailed off and turned swiftly to the Nativity, busying himself.

"But what, son?"

Teague's voice was low. "I want to sail like you, Papa."

"No reason you can't do both." Jack kept his voice carefully neutral. "I'm sure you can imagine that woodworking, especially of your quality, would be highly valued on a ship."

His son peeked shyly at him over his shoulder, a gesture quite reminiscent of Sarah. And as he thought of her, she appeared. "Have you finished setting it up? 'Tis time for siesta." She cast a heated glance at Jack.

She settled the children for a nap, no easy feat. Completing it, she took Jack's hand almost demurely. "Come, husband. We have a siesta of our own."

Chapter Six - Family Matters

"Going fishing again?" Elizabeth gave him a rueful smile as she wrapped up a cold lunch for him to bring with him.

"Does it bother you?" Will asked her a bit anxiously. Fishing was the perfect excuse for him to sneak away. If Elizabeth objected, he would have to invent other errands to take him out of the house, or else steal from his work time. Either that or tell her what he'd been doing while on his fishing trips.

Now there was a thought. He and his wife had hidden things from each other before, and it led to nothing but misery. Will knew that he far preferred the trust of being in her confidence, and was assured that the feeling was mutual for her. But Calypos's daughter was a complicated subject, and he didn't know how to bring her up to Elizabeth. So he went on deceiving her in small ways, feeling increasingly guilty.

"Well I miss you," she answered, startling him out of his thoughts. She smiled gently at him and leaned up for a kiss. "You're going out now nearly every week, but you hardly ever come back with fish!"

"Oh...right." Will shifted his weight, feeling a tad foolish. He'd better make sure he caught at least a few fish before getting caught up in visiting Joie today!

He took the lunch she provided and made for the door. Just before he opened it, he was waylaid by his small, soft spoken boy. Little Jack, only four years old, stretched imploring arms to him. "Want to go fishin too Papa." He gazed up at Will with his placid caramel eyes.

Will knelt down and took the boy into his arms. His throat tightened a bit in love. Now he was fooling this one? "Not this time Jack. I promise I'll take you next time though."

Willy might have argued, but little Jack had a calm accepting nature. "All right Papa," and a trusting one as well.

With a final kiss and rub of his cheek over the small boy's face, Will walked out with his fishing pole over his shoulder. Once out of sight of his home he began jogging. As he neared the little pond where she had told him to meet her, Will reflected on his relationship with Joie. Siring her was the last thing he'd ever wanted, and in fact was almost unable to perform the necessary actions with Calypso to achieve it.

The goddess had tried to help him, and had even taken Elizabeth's form towards the end. *That* had certainly had the desired effect but had appalled him just the same. Fortunately, it had taken only two acts of copulation before his seed quickened Calypso's womb. Will had gone on his way, vastly relieved, and truly believing that was the end of it. He had given the sea goddess her companion, and was as free as he could be, given the circumstances, to have Elizabeth and make a family with her.

What he hadn't expected was Joie to be so winsome, so desirous of knowing the man who'd created her. He reached the pond and sat down on a large overcropping rock. Idly he kicked his feet and waited for her to arrive. A few minutes later, he noticed movement by his hand and glanced down. It was only a little brown rock crab, scuttling along. He moved his hand to let it pass, but it veered closer to him.

Startled, he moved off the rock completely, and the crab suddenly changed shape and became Joie, who giggled at the look on his face. Will grinned, laughed with her, and reached out to ruffle her hair. He was startled anew at how much she resembled his sons. And suddenly struck by the realization that she seemed more mature than his Jackson, though actually slightly younger than him. Did demi goddesses mature faster than mortals?

That thought made him uncomfortable, reminding him as it did of her essential strangeness. He regarded her for a moment. She was slightly built and a tad skinny, wearing a white shift that left her arms bare. A smattering of freckles dusted across her nose and her wheat colored hair was done up in dreadlocks, seashells clanking amongst the braids.

She looked so utterly normal. Also her first words to him were exactly like any normal little girl's. "Hi Daddy! Did you bring me anything?"

He couldnt help smiling at her, and opend his arms to her. "Only my love for you, sweetie." And froze, as the truth of what he'd said unwittingly broke through him. He loved her. He loved his daughter.

Joie answered his invitation and jumped into his arms, hugging him with both arms and legs. Will snuggled her close. She was *his* daughter.

They sat on the sun drenched rock and talked awhile. "It's almost Christmas Joie."

"What's Christmas Daddy?" It tugged at his heartstrings when she called him that, because his sons called him the French word, Papa.

Her question made him hesitate. How would he explain the Christian god to a creature like her? It would be too much like her own story, only backwards. Instead of a mortal beearing the seed of a god, a goddess had borne the seed of a mortal.

Slowly, he tried to couch his answer in terms she could follow. "Christmas is a time for family togethernes. And it's the act of giving gifts to your loved one. We decorate the house and sing a lot of carols."

She looked sideways up at him. "Then I'm Christmas."

"What do you mean by that?"

She explained, "My mother says that you gave me to her as a gift. So if Christmas is about giving gifts to ones you love, I am Christmas."

Will was stunned by the insight and maturity she displayed. He turned his attention to his quiesent fishing pole and sought to change the subject. "I hope I catch something today. My wife is grown impatient with me for bringing nothing home." Immediately he regretted his words. Since family was the subject they were on, surely she would wonder, and ask, why Will's wife was someone other than her mother?

But what Joie did was rather more amazing. She glanced at the pole almost disinterestedly. "You want fish? I will get some for you." She gestured at the bucket next to him. The water under his feet suddenly boiled and several fish leaped up out of the water and landed in his bucket. Nice, fat fish with bright scales, with just enough water to keep them alive until he got home and gutted them. Fresh fish for dinner, courtesy of a creature that might look human, but possesed supernatural powers. And she was yet young, what would she think to do as she matured?

Shaken as he was by her display of power, Will nonetheless enjoyed himself greatly with Joie. She chattered at him, telling him more about the island where she lived with Calypso, an island he's seen only from the deck of the Pearl, and the Flying Dutchman. Once or twice she made mention of sea bottom wonders, with a penetrating look. Only the sea goddess, the child, and the former Ferryman had seen the wonders of that underwater land. It deepened the connection between them.

Three hours passed in pleasantries. Suddenly Joie's eyes went wide and she cocked her head. "Mama's calling me! I gotta go!" She stood and blew him a kiss, jumped into the water. In midair she flashed back into crab form, splashing only a bit when she hit the water.

Bemused, Will gathered up his pole, net, and full bucket to head for home.
 

Chapters 7-12

Comments

[hlmiwait.livejournal.com]

**Claps** You know I just LOVE this universe you've created. Hope all is well with young Teague and here's to hoping Jack's not starting to go through a mid-life crisis...And the visit to Grandpa Teague was great all the way round!

[soleilpirate.livejournal.com]

Thanks darling, glad you like it so much! I'll be putting more up shortly. Yep, young Teague will turn out just fine. Jack..well maybe it is a midlife crisis, I suspect it's simply that he's horny for adventure with Sarah!

Love big Teague. I plan to weave him into the story as many times as I can!