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Author: Ebony Disclaimer: Ebony doesn’t own PotC or any of the characters. Well actually, she does have a naked Captain Jack hidden in her bed just waiting her to get back to him… *Reality check* Aw hell, it was just a flashback from the dream she saw last night. Yeah, never mind. Summary: May the better lady win the affections of your pirate lover. Only this time, the better woman is not you; you’re just the other woman. A bit melancholy one-shot. Author's Note: I was stuck in my room with pen poised to fill the pages of my trusty notepad (supposedly about to start working on my other fics), surrounded by all my Jack posters and pics and feeling melancholy. My mind started wandering and this is the end result of that. * * * * * It was spring again in the Caribbean. A gentle morning wind carried from the sea, the horizon coloured with brilliant hues of yellow and orange. The sun was slowly rising, a giant globe of blazing fire emerging behind the crystalline waters of the Caribbean Sea. The warm breeze blew in through the open window of your bedroom and ruffled the gauzy curtains slightly, the scent of exotic flowers and fresh fruit mixed with the light current that caressed your bare arms. But as you sat silently at the end of your bed, clad in nothing but a white sheet, your knees drawn up and soles flat on the mattress, you could not smell the tropical blooms or ripe fruit in the air. All you could smell was the heady combination of sea water, musk, and a lingering hint of rum. It was a rare, unique scent, one that was solely his. One that you’d come to love and long for during all those lonely nights that passed in his absence. It was the scent that belonged only to your lover, lying on his stomach next to you, still asleep. The bedroom still smelt faintly of sweat and sex, as it always did when he visited you. That and the few light bruises on your body were tangible evidence of the previous night’s activities, ones that you’d enjoyed every second of. As you always did. He’d shown up unexpectedly last night after almost six weeks of absence. You had already went to bed, resigned to spend yet another night alone in your cold bed, but the familiarity of the sharp rhythm knocked on your outdoor had made your heart leap up to your throat and your body tingle in anticipation. Nobody else knocked like that but him; he had come back to you. Throwing the covers off, you’d rushed to the door and opened it swiftly, recalling how your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. It always did. You had seen him so many times like that during the last three years, standing on your doorstep in all his beautiful gloriousness, half-hidden in the shadows of the night, and still each time was just as impressive as the first. Your gaze had run all over his body, searching for any injuries you were dreading to find each time, but had never discovered this far. Still, you did that every time, and every time he allowed you to, with a small, amused smile playing upon the corners of his mouth. “Good enough, darling?” he would normally ask you with a smirk. He asked that every single time you’d completed your inspection of him. Usually you’d smile in reply, stating sultry that you’d need to see him without clothing to make sure. He would grin rakishly, giving you a glimpse of gold and platinum before slowly stalking closer to you, like a powerful wild beast prowling on his prey. After that, there often was no more talking done; your bodies would handle all the communication needed. However, last night was different. You saw it in his eyes the moment you opened the door; this time was different from the rest. Last night, he did not ask that question. He didn’t ask anything, he just stood there looking at your face intently, like he wanted to memorize each little detail about you. And that had scared you. That’s when you knew it; he would not be coming back after this night. He’d reached for you then and you went willingly, losing yourself in his embrace, in his breath-taking kiss. The moment he touched you, the desire was set aflame between you, both of you needing to feel one another. It had always been like this between the two of you, the fiery passion was unleashed the second you made contact with each other. There had been something almost desperate in your joining last night, you realized. He had been rough, like he sometimes tended to be, but you loved every moment of it and matched his fervour just as eagerly. You had tugged at this clothing just as impatiently as he had torn your nightdress in half with one, swift move. It was always like that. First he was gone for weeks, months even, and then he suddenly came back again with no word or warning to claim what he wanted. And you always allowed him. Many times you had cursed yourself for your weakness, for not being able to resist and tell him off like a woman with any pride or dignity would. But the truth was that dignity couldn’t keep you warm at night, and pride could not ward off your utter loneliness. Perhaps that was the reason you held onto him so tightly and always let him come back; because you needed him. Was it weakness that your heart fluttered each time he would flash that slightly lop-sided grin at you, whenever his long, calloused fingers travelled across your skin and caressed every inch? Then so be it, let everyone deem you weak as long as he still held you in his strong arms at night, gazed down at you with his seductive brown eyes and murmured sweet nothings in your ear with that low, velvety voice you so loved. That was not the only thing about him you loved, no. You loved every single thing in him, both good and bad. You loved him, plain and simple. You had tried hard not to, knowing you’d ever be but a mistress to him, but had failed miserably. Over the three years he’d visited you, you had somewhere along the way fallen in love with your pirate lover. It was foolish and unwise, you knew this, but were past the point of caring about that. He was unlike anybody you had ever met before, his soul burning brighter and more intense than anyone’s you’d known. You admired his mental strength, were deeply fascinated by his unique ways and complex persona. It was difficult to explain, but you knew in your heart you loved him. Should anyone ever know about your visitor, you’d be labelled as a whore, a filthy wench. Which in fact sometimes, in moments of despair, you thought you were. Just a wench, a passing fancy ready to be cast aside when no longer interesting or useful. You weren’t a exactly of high social class by any standards, and could barely afford to feed yourself, but still you refused to accept the financial help your lover sometime tried to offer you. His intention had been good, you knew it, but to you it had seemed like he was offering you payment for your company. That had not been your first clash, both being strong-willed people, but it was probably the most heated one. The matter had been settled eventually, though; you had not taken anything from him, he had never offered again, and the incident was never discussed again. Sighing quietly, you turned your head from the window and gazed at the sleeping pirate. You gaze climbed up and down the tanned expanse of his back, trailing up his lean arms. He was so beautiful, there was simply no other word to describe him. White scars of all shapes crisscrossed across his skin, many of which you had traced with your fingers on early morning hours such as this, lying awake beside him and just watching him. However, this morning was different. You had a heart-wrenching feeling that this was the last night you would spend in you lover’s arms. Perhaps she had finally won. You should be thankful you got as long as you had with him. Blinking back the tears that suddenly started clouding your vision, you again looked out of the window. You knew you were not his only one by any chance, nor his dearest one. You weren’t the better woman. You were just the other woman. But sometimes… sometimes you thought you were more to him than just another mistress. Perhaps it was just wishful thinking, but sometimes he was so different with you. At times, there was tenderness in his gaze when he looked at you, and sometimes when he’d lain with you he was so gentle it could almost be called making love instead of having sex. But you knew he didn’t love you like you loved him, knew that your feelings were left unrequited. You were aware that you lover knew of how you felt about him, but it was never discussed. Some things were better left unsaid. Be that as it may, this affair of yours had been enough to you. You just wished to be with him, to feel his warm body against yours, to hear another one of his exaggerated tales and have him distract you from making more questions about his past with few well-placed kisses, ones that he knew would make you forget about everything else but the burning need igniting inside you. As much as it pained you, you knew it was time to let go of Captain Jack Sparrow, your lover for three years, a pirate that held your heart among the rest of his plunder. She was more important to him, and you knew you could never challenge her. You would always be the second best, the so-called other woman. It was a fact, and feeling jealous or hurt over it would be pointless… And after all, who were you to cage a sparrow who just wanted to fly free? You couldn’t do that, no matter the pain it brought to your heart to see him fly away for good. Jack stirred, and you knew he was about to wake up. Out of habit, you glanced at the small clock on the bedside table, knowing he’d wish to know the time when he woke up. It was usually the first thing he inquired in the mornings. He opened his dark brown eyes and inhaled deeply, searching you with his gaze. “Good morning, darling,” he said, his voice rough from the sleep. That was another peculiar thing in your relationship; he always called you ‘darling’. It was never ‘love’, like he addressed almost every other woman he came across. You had pondered and wondered the meaning of this, but eventually gave up on trying figuring it out. All it gave you was a headache. “Morning,” you replied softly with a smile. “And it’s almost half past five.” Small grin pulled the corners of his mouth up as Jack sat up in the bed, the white sheet bunching over his lap. “Ah, you know me too well.” You just smiled. You knew him, yes, but not as well as you would’ve yearned to. You knew a lot about him; some bits of information he’d given voluntarily, some when you’d asked, but others were kept safely for his own knowledge only. When you asked something he didn’t wish to discuss, he would just murmur “Let’s talk about that later” and kissed you again. There would be no more talking after that, and the whole matter was altogether forgotten. The grin slowly died away from Jack’s lips, and he gazed at you with solemn expression. “You know I have to go,” he finally said quietly. It was a statement, not a question. He always left at crack of dawn when there were not too many people awake, but you knew this wasn’t what he meant this time. “I know,” you responded in hushed tone, trying to keep the tears threatening to gather in your eyes at bay. Jack held your gaze for another moment, before nodding slightly. Tearing his eyes from yours, he gracefully got up from the bed and started picking up his clothes strewn on the floor. You stayed where you were sitting, not trusting your legs to hold you up. Silently, you watched as he dressed, memorizing every bit from the play of his muscles to the bedecked hair for the lonely days and cold nights that loomed ahead of you. After many silent minutes, Jack was clad in his usual apparel, ready to go. Ready to fly out of your life. “Will you come back?” Never in the million years could you understand why you chose to blurt out such question, when you already knew he wouldn’t. Perhaps you were a masochistic nature, who knows… Jack turned to face you, and you met his gaze. He sighed softly, taking a step closer to you. “I can’t make you any promises of that.” You nodded and looked down at your hands, deciding to accept this answer. It was so much better than the outright, blunt “no.” You felt the bed dip slightly as Jack sat down next to you, but you couldn’t make yourself to raise your gaze to meet his. You were afraid he’d see the pain his leave would cause you if you did, and the last thing you wanted was to make him feel guilty. Wordlessly, Jack wrapped his arms around your shoulders, drawing you closer and holding you to him, lightly resting his chin against your temple. You closed your eyes at the familiarity of the bittersweet embrace, allowing yourself to enjoy the feel of him, basking in his scent that surrounded you for one last time. Almost on its own volition, one of your hand rose to rest against his forearm, holding onto him for as long as you could. “You take good care of yourself, savvy? Promise me?” he murmured against your hair, and you nodded slightly in return. “Promise,” you whispered back. “If you promise me you’ll be careful.” You could almost feel him grin sadly against your hair. “Now, that I can promise you,” he said with certain amount of levity in his tone, before going silent again. He sighed again, almost inaudibly, and brushed his lips briefly against your temple. The simple gesture was nearly enough to break down your pretence of bravery and finally allow your tears to fall. Still, you prevailed yet a moment longer, despondently letting go of his arm as he started to draw away from you. Without his arms around you, you instantly felt cold. With a fleeting touch of his fingertips across your jaw line, he got up from the bed and made his way towards the door of your bedroom. You grit your teeth against the tears and stared at your hands, struggling to control your conflicting emotions. Just as you thought he’d walk out of the door and out of your life, you heard him halt his steps, albeit somewhat hesitantly. “In my own way… I do love you, too, darling.” Your throat constricted painfully and your eyes widened at the quiet confession. You snapped your head up to look at him… But he was already gone. The doorway to your bedroom was empty. You could hear the faint sound of your outdoor closing, and then nothing but silence, broken by your shuddering breathing. Of all the things you wanted to hear… that was the one that he should have left unsaid now. Now the tears did fall, leaking from the corners of your eyes and trailing down your cheeks. And for a short moment, you hated the man you loved. He goes away for good, leaving you alone and then he says he loves you? How could he add that to the pain you were already feeling? Wiping away your tears, you crawled up to the other end of the bed and laid down where he’d been sleeping only moments ago, burying your face in the pillow. It still smelled of him. Sighing, you turned on your side, paying no mind to the few tears that still trailed down your face. Jack was gone for good, he’d gone back to his lady. That lady was something special, she was his lifeline. How could you argue with that? You were hurting, but you understood. And the mysterious lady’s name was Pearl. The Black Pearl. A sardonic smile curled your lips as you thought of the situation. You’d lost the man you loved to a ship. Now, that didn’t happen everyday, did it? But Jack was a pirate; the sea beckoned him more than you did. But suppose you should be grateful for the three entire years you’d managed to distract him, for you were not unaware of his reputation as a ladies man. But that was all in the past now, and Jack was heading towards new places and new people with his lady. Suddenly you realized that something was digging into your ribs, and you frowned. Lifting yourself off the mattress, you picked up the offending object and examined closely. You couldn't stop the smile that spread to your lips as you recognized the small item; it was a red bead. You knew exactly where it was from, for you had over the years memorized the exact order of the beads and trinkets hanging from Jack’s untamed hair. Had it fallen off in accident during last night? It was a possibility, but you knew they were attached securely and didn’t just fall off easily. The second option was somewhat confusing; had Jack left it behind deliberately? No, probably not. You knew better that to get your hopes up, but a small glimmer of hope ignited somewhere in the back of your mind. Was this his way of saying he’d be back to retrieve the missing bead sometimes? If you love something, set it free. If it comes back… you did not dare to finish the thought. You curled your fingers carefully around the bead and laid back on the soft mattress, inhaling the lingering scent of Jack. Closing your eyes, you sighed deeply, suddenly feeling tired. You would always treasure the times you spent with Jack and would never forget him, but you knew it was in your best interest to stop waiting for him to come back. You decided resolutely to start letting go of him… but not quite yet. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow… You didn’t even realize that you’d fallen asleep, the tiny red bead still clutched tightly in your fist. "And I never found you on the ground, THE END |
