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L'HOMME DE LA MER Author: AngelsLullaby7 Disclaimer: If I owned Pirates, do you seriously think I'd be writing fanfiction? Summary: At age seven, your island port in the Caribbean was attacked by pirates. You leave with your family, as nothing is left for you. Twenty years later, you receive a mysterious letter from a man called Jack Sparrow, and return to the Caribbean only to be faced with your childhood friend, Jacques Moineau. Author's Note: Just as a note, "l'homme de la mer" means "the man of the sea." This story is dedicated to Ashley, because I left her alone all weekend and promised to write her a You/Jack story as an act of groveling. * * * * * PROLOGUE ~Twenty Years Ago~ Five minutes. He was five minutes late. The young girl could barely hold her anticipation. Tonight was the most exciting night for the child- her seventh birthday. Everybody titled was to attend the celebration. But the people this child couldn’t wait to arrive were Monsieur et Madame Moineau. Her very best friend was their ten year old son Jacques. He was a beautiful person, and his personality vexed her. He knew so much for a boy his age, about everything from butterflies to blacksmiths, pineapples to pirates. Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes! Where were they? The girl stepped outside, anxiously twirling a ringlet of her hair. She was personally tired of curtseying to other guests. She couldn’t wait for Jacques. She bit her lip as she saw a carriage turning around the corner, coming into view. “Darling, get inside. Now!” An angry mother’s voice came from behind the girl. She turned and looked at her mother. “But mama, they’re here!” the girl cried excitedly. She wanted to be the first thing Jacques saw when he stepped from the carriage. “No they damn well are not,” came the child’s father’s voice. He helped mama bring the child inside. “Papa,” the young girl started. “There is worry in your voice.” She looked up at her parents, wondering why they were so concerned, and why the room had cleared out of so many people. “We need to get to the carriage, and fast. Darling,” the man turned to his wife. ”Take her and run to the docks. Pay the captain fare for three to New York. I will be along shortly. Just then, a maid came running from the kitchen. “Lord, Lady! We are all doomed!” “Godspeed, Persephone. Whatever is wrong now?” Lady enquired. The maid spoke frantically. “The kitchen and dining room are ablaze! The fire is spreading quickly! You must leave now! I shall round up the rest of the servants.” Persephone sprinted up the stairs. The young girl had no idea what was going on, but she quickly figured it out as she was hurriedly rushed by her parents to the docks. Everything horrible was happening; screaming people, children crying for their families, fires everywhere, death all over the ground. The girl had decided there was only one explanation. Pirates. And now she was being shipped off to New York City. As her mother ushered her onto the ship, the child looked over the lands for anything. She saw a man of high class be murdered by a young boy. As the boy pulled his rapier from the man’s lifeless body, he and she made eye contact. The girl had witness a murder committed by her best friend, Jacques Moineau. * * * * * CHAPTER 1 It had been a very strange day. Come to think of it, it had been a very strange couple of months. Nothing was extremely out of the normal, especially in New York, but about two months ago, you had received an odd letter. Sitting down, you unfolded the letter and reread it. Miss ____, You may not know me, but I know you. I also know what you saw twenty years ago. Because of what you saw, someone is in a great deal of trouble. He needs your help. Please send a reply to the return address as soon as you get this. Thanks very much, No, you didn’t know a Jack Sparrow. How did this Jack Sparrow know what you saw? It didn’t matter. You were too concerned for the welfare of Jacques to question anything, and right away you sent a letter stating that you’d be willing to do anything to help, and a letter was sent back securing voyage to the Caribbean island of Tortuga. And so here you are, sitting on the deck of the ship Blue Dolphin off the coast of the Carolinas. The ship had to make a stop at Myrtle Beach for supplies, and they were to be off at seven tonight. “Miss?” came a voice. You looked up at a shipman. “There’s a woman ashore who requests you get off here.” “I’m sorry, sir,” you started. “I’m expected in Tortuga.” “She said a Frenchman sent her. Meurtre… Morseau…” he trailed off, trying to remember the name. Needless, to say, it caught your attention. “Moineau?” you offered, looking back up at him. “That’s the one. Moineau.” You were so anxious to see Jacques, you nearly jumped over the edge of the ship. But you decided it would be more of a comfortable meeting if you were dry, so you took the plank. As soon as you stepped foot on solid dock, you looked in every direction, hoping to see Jacques’ face. Your eyes landed on a slightly larger woman, probably in her early forties. She waved to you, and you knew this was the woman the shipman had spoken of. You gathered your skirts and ran to her. “Hello, child,” she said with southern warmth. “You must be ____.” You nodded. “Jacques told me all he could of you. Name’s Harmony. Now, I know you was supposed to be meetin’ up wit’ him in Tortuga, but he ran into a spot of trouble ‘ere. Landed ‘imself behind bars, he did.” “Can you take me to him?” you asked. “Yessum. Course, he be ‘specting you to spring him from jail.” Harmony led you to the jail house. “I’ll be waitin’ out back for you, should you spring ‘im.” She turned and started walking away. “Oh, and ‘fore I ferget, ask for Jack Sparrow. They be takin’ you to him.” She disappeared behind the building. You pushed the door open and descended the stairs. A guard was standing there. “Excuse me, sir,” you started, “My name is ____. I’m here to see Jack Sparrow.” The man said nothing, but pointed down the hall. You walked to the very last cell. Behind the bars, a man was lying on his back on the ground, eyes shut. Guessing this was him, you took a chance. “Jacques?” The man opened his eyes and sat up. He squinted at you before smiling. You knew that smile anywhere. “____,” he said. “You’re beautiful.” Unable to stop yourself, you dropped to your knees and clutched the bars, tears falling freely. He moved closer to you and cupped your cheek though the bars. “As emotional as I remember, too.” You smiled, still crying. “Jacques, you look so different.” He did, truly. The Jacques you remember was a refined young lad. This Jacques, Jack Sparrow rather, was most considerably not. He wore a red bandana around his head, beads and trinkets in his long, dreadlocked hair. His beard was divided into two plaits, both beaded. Kohl was smudged around his eyes and his fingernails were dirty. He was fairly tan, and equally thin. He absentmindedly twirled a strand of your hair as he looked at your face. “More stunning than I ever would’ve imagined.” You were clutching his shirt though the bars. “I have to get you out of here.” Jack said nothing. You moved one of your hands from his shirt and examined the beads in his hair. “Do you have any ideas?” Jack thought for a moment. “A plethora,” he said, “but none of them have to do with getting me out.” He smiled at you. “Well, no, that’s not true. I have to be out of here to do them.” “What? Never mind.” You were too busy trying to find a way to get him out. “Go seduce him.” Jack suggested. “Is he seducible?” Jack nodded. You pulled him to you and kissed his cheek the way you always had when you were little. You stood up and began walking to the guard. No, you weren’t very experienced when it came to the art of seduction, but you would do anything to save your long-time friend. “Oh, kind sir…” The guard looked at you. “I’m afraid I’ve dropped my bracelet in a locked cell. Could you help me?” “Certainly, miss.” He pulled the keys from his pocket. As if on cue, violent screams were heard outside. The guard handed you the keys. “’Scuse me, miss, must see what’s going on.” He ran out the door. You ran to Jack and unlocked the cell. “We must make haste,” you said. Jack grabbed things that were hanging on the wall – a pistol, rapier, hat, and compass. The two of you ran for the back door. Harmony was not outside. “We’ll go to my ship!” Jack said. He led you into the woods. “But Jacques, my things–” “Was there anything important with them?” he asked. “No,” you replied. “Just dresses is all.” “We’ll get you new ones,” he said, turning and guiding you deeper in the woods. “How? Jacques, I’ve no money.” He stopped in his tracks, you nearly ran into him. He turned to you and looked you seriously in the eyes. “Darling, I’m a pirate.” Thousands of questions flooded your mind, but none of there were asked, as Jack turned back around, leading you through the woods. After what felt like hours, you finally spoke up. “Jacques, where on Earth are we going?” He stopped and smiled at you. “Upstream,” was all he said. Then he pulled the leaves from a weeping willow aside. Your breath caught in your throat. The sight was beautiful. Behind the tree was a cove. It was covered, the sun trying to shine through the leaves, creating a bluish-green hue. The lush green grass reached to a crystal blue river. Sitting in the water was a ship with black sails. You were absolutely marveled at the beauty of it all. “Jacques, is that your ship?” you asked. “Aye,” he said, “There she is, the Black Pearl.” He took your hand. “Come. We can talk once we get off this continent.” * * * * * Not long after you were aboard his ship, Jacques had you and his crew safely in the free waters of the Atlantic Ocean. The sun was shining brightly and there were hardly any waves on the water. Jacques had left you wandering the ship to do what you suppose most captains do on a pirate vessel. You were taking in the view at the railing at the front of his ship when you felt a hand on your shoulder. You smiled and turned around. “You like it, don’t you?” Jacques asked. You took a deep breath, inhaling the salty sea air. “It’s lovely, Jacques.” He took your hand in his. His skin was surprisingly soft to the touch, and still tough. “Darling, I know we grew up together as _____ and Jacques, but it’s Jack now. I know it’s not much of a difference, but my crew won’t know who the bloody hell you’re talking about.” You smiled. “Jack… How did your name change come about?” You leaned against the railing, trying to prop yourself up on it to sit down. He lifted you up to help, and kept his hands at your sides to make sure you didn’t fall overboard. “Well, after I left our lonely little port and joined the pirate crew, they just started calling me Jack. Much more of a pirate name, don’t you think?” You smiled at the rhetoric question. He continued. “Anyway, then before I became a captain I decided Moineau just didn’t have enough piracy in it. I used the English translation, and here we are, Jack Sparrow.” “It’s beautiful, but I’m not sure if I’ll get used to it.” Jack smiled at you. “You’ll catch on. It’s easy enough.” A comfortable silence came between the two of you, with only the soft yells of the crew and the crashing of the ship through the water. Jack was looking past you at the horizon; you were looking at him, memorizing his face. The new lines, new structure, and all that had been forgotten. “I really missed you,” you said, breaking the silence. Jack’s eyes came back to your face before pulling you into a tight hug. You smiled, recalling childhood memories the pair of you had shared. “I can’t believe I ever left you,” he said. You buried your face in his neck, tears gently falling. You were so glad to be in the arms of your best friend, even if you hadn’t seen him for twenty years. “Here,” he said, picking you up off the railing. “I think it’d be in our best interest to continue this little rendezvous in my cabin. The crew’s giving us strange looks.” You smiled again, and wiped your tears. Jack took your hand and led you down the ladder and over behind the stairs to get to the helm. He opened the door there, and you entered a fairly large room. There was a table, a desk, a few chairs, cabinets, a window seat, and a bed. You let yourself in the room a little bit more. It smelled heavily of rum and sea air, and something that was probably just Jack himself. It was a pleasant aroma. You looked at the door, Jack was standing there, not paying attention to what you were doing. He was shouting orders at his crewmembers. You walked over to the desk an picked up a picture frame that was face down upon it. The glass was cracked and dirty. You brushed off the dirt, and noticed it was an old miniature painting of yourself. The door closed and Jack walked over to you. Tears welled up in your eyes. “You kept this all these years?” you asked, holding the picture up so he could see. “Believe it or not, _____, there was hardly ever a time that I did not think about you. I missed you more than I love the freedom of being a pirate.” Which, you had sensed, was a lot. You set the picture down and looked at him. “If you missed me so much, how come you never came for me?” Jack looked at you for a minute, obviously considering a good answer. “I couldn’t. How could I? In New York City? I would have been hanged on the spot. They wouldn’t even bother putting me behind bars. And if I didn’t get caught? Your father would have killed me with his bare hands.” He opened a cabinet and pulled out a bottle of a brown liquid. Rum, you figured. “When we were younger, did you intend on marrying me?” You sat down on his bed. He sat down next to you. “My parents spoke of it. They said it was a wonderful match.” He obviously knew what you were going to say next, because he continued. “Had I stayed, we probably would have married. And don’t you think for one moment that that is why I left. I just couldn’t stand it anymore. There was so much structure. People just expected me to do things. I was never asked what I wanted. Never was there a moment when I heard, ‘Jacques, what is it you want to eat?’ ‘Jacques, what is it you want to do?’ Not even a simple, ‘Jacques, what is it you want to be?’ I got sick of it. I thought it was time to start thinking about me, what I wanted, what I felt I needed. That’s what being a pirate is about. That is why I left. Me.” You smiled. “A bit arrogant, don’t you think?” Jack took a gulp of his rum and swallowed. “Ah, such is the life of a pirate.” He offered you the bottle of rum. You took it and took a gulp, wincing, for it burned your throat. “Careful, doll. It’ll get you.” You gave him a look and took another sip. “What?” he asked. “Hasn’t a respectable lady such as yourself ever had a real drink?” “Oh,” you said, handing him the bottle. He promptly took a gulp. “And I expect a pirate like you has gone a single night without thinking of pleasurable company?” He swallowed, giving you a mock-hurt look. “Ouch, darling. Ouch.” * * * * * CHAPTER 3 A/N: I had originally wrote this story with a light, almost humorous air to it. Now, the humor is still there, but the story is getting a bit darker. You awoke that night in a very scandalous position. For a moment, you had actually forgotten what had happened the day before, where you were, and who this strange man draped around you was. It wasn’t until the faint scent of rum filled your nostrils that you recalled the events from earlier that evening. You turned your head, looking at Jack, who was sleeping soundly. Then you realized why you had woken up. You needed to relieve yourself. Badly. But there were two very large problems with this. The first problem was you had no idea where the head might be. The second problem was Jack. He was wrapped around you in the strangest position; you were quite surprised that he had not tied himself up in knots. But nonetheless, you could not hold it any longer. You needed to find the head as quick as possible. Carefully, you tried to pry yourself from Jack’s grasp, but no sooner had you gotten his arm off of your head, he rewrapped himself around you. Silently pleading to Jack, you poked his side. In return, all you got was his even breathing. Rolling your eyes you poked him again, a bit harder this time. Again, nothing. Giving up all attempts to be nice about it, you shook him, rather violently. “Jack Sparrow! Wake up!” Quicker than a flash of lightening, Jack had sat up, waving his pistol at the door. “Wha’s all the hubbub? Can’t a man get any bloody sleep ‘round ‘ere?” “Sleep all you want, Jack,” you started, getting up. “I need to... um... do some business.” Jack looked out the window at the location of the stars. “Its three in the morning, love. You’re not going shopping are you? Oh, unless you’re buying me rum.” You sighed. “I’m not buying you anything.” Without another word, you left. After closing the door to his cabin, you located the head and relieved yourself of the pressure in your lower stomach. Now to fill it with something nutritious. Descending more ladders and stairs, you eventually found the galley. Jack was there, sitting on a table and drinking rum. “’Ello, darling. Care to join me in a midnight snack?” He tossed you an apple. Catching it, you sat on the table next to him, rolling the red fruit in your hands. For a while the two of you sat there, Jack drinking his rum, and you just rolling that apple in your hands. When Jack had finished his rum, he took your hand, the one currently holding the apple, and guided it to his mouth. He took a large bite out of the side of the apple, and let go of your hand. “Jack!” “What? You weren’t eating it! You were playing with it!” he exclaimed. “Maybe I was going to eat it! That was a bit selfish!” you retaliated. “Pirate.” That was all he said. He didn’t give you a chance to say anything else. He quickly took something else from you, something that you may have given him willingly had he just asked for it. With his lips firmly planted on yours, you could taste the sticky sweet juice of the apple and the strength of the rum still on his lips. The kiss made your toes curl and your stomach flip. You had been kissed by men before, like when you were with him, but he never kissed you like this. This was a new feeling. When Jack had attempted to deepen the kiss, you pushed him back. “No, Jack. No.” You took his open hand, gave him the apple, and turned away. Slipping off the tabletop, you headed towards the door. Without turning around, you stopped and spoke. “I cannot let a man touch me that way, Jack. I trust you to understand and obey my wishes.” And with that you left the galley. “Bloody woman,” Jack said, taking another bite of the apple. You had nearly fallen back to sleep when you heard Jack come in. You kept your eyes tightly shut and pretended to be asleep. You didn’t want to have to deal with his advances right then. Plus, the intensity of the kiss had tired you out and you wanted nothing more than to sleep for days. You felt the side of the bed sink under Jack’s weight. He laid down, wrapped himself back around you, and fell asleep. You smiled to yourself before doing the same. When you awoke, the sun was shining brightly into the windows. You squinted your eyes to block out its uninvited light, but failed dismally. Regretfully, you stood up and dressed. No doubt Jack was already at the helm. And that is where you found him. “Rise and shine, love. You look thoroughly rested.” he said, his hands on the wheel. “Didn’t want to wake you. You looked peaceful.” You smiled and moved to stand next to him. He removed one of his hands from the helm, and snaked it around your waist. “Did I miss breakfast?” you asked. “Course not,” Jack replied. He pulled an apple from his pocket, a different one than that of the night before. He handed it to you and you thankfully bit into its juice flesh. Your delight turned to horror as you chewed the fruit. “Bloody wench!” he screamed, his voice filled with a violent rage. He shoved you hard against the wall. “You been cheatin’, you dumb bitch!” As you slid down the wall, he backhanded you across the face. As he sauntered away to his chair in his drunken stupor, you reached up and grasped an apple from the bowl on the table, and crawled up the stairs to the safety of your bedroom. Looking at the core of the apple Jack had given you, your mind flooded with those terrible memories. During all those dark times, you had questioned God why people could be so horrible. When not given an answer, you turned your back on your faith, and chose to worship nothing. But now, life had you thinking. How could God put you in such a terrible situation, and then bring back the one man you truly felt safe with? Was He trying to ask for your forgiveness? You looked to the sky and smiled, a silent thanks to Him. TBC... |