Black
Pearl Tales
is the official archive of
Black Pearl Sails
and Black Pearl Library.
Pirates of the Caribbean
is the property of the
Disney Corporation.
|
a Challenge:
Freedom
|
| aaa |
|
By Arwen Lune ~ Soar ~ Wind rushed past him, made him light-headed. For that impossibly long moment, plummeting down, he imagined to be the sparrow that was his name, and reached to spread wings that were not there. Crash into the water. And then, there she was, new sails up, no longer a ghost ship but restored to the beauty she had been before. His ship, his love, his Pearl. At last alone at the helm, he trailed long fingers along the
spokes of the wheel. Mind turning to all the options newly opened
to him, Jack closed his eyes and savoured
By Geek Mama ~ Molly Hatter~ The window was cracked, but clean, with a faded dimity curtain, open to the moonlight. Quiescent now, he lay, black eyes studying her face, languid limbs half-draped against her. "Molly, is it?" She hesitated. Then, "Aye. Molly Hatter." "Hatter?" She smiled. "From a long line of `em." She was silent a moment, then said, "That's what I'm savin' for. I'll have my own shop some day." And until then. Her smile faded a little. "Are you good, then?" A flash of gold and white at her lifted brow. "At making hats, love." She chuckled. "Aye. I am. My Da' was the best in Coventry. Taught me everything." He moved against her, eyes laughing. "Not everything." She pursed her lips. "About making hats!" she said, and melted again into his kiss. * When she woke, to thin sunlight and the cool of a new morning, he was gone. She rose, a half smile on her lips, and absently put on her robe. And then she saw it, on the little table, next to the vase of wildflowers: not coins, but a smallish, lumpy sack. Fingers trembling, she opened the sack. Gold. A lot of it. He'd left a note, too... Next time I see you I'll be wanting a hat. ~ JS
By Hereswith ~ Freedom ~ This was not freedom, though death could not touch him. Though men could not harm him and nature not wound. This was a prison and his body, his treacherous, traitorous body, made up the walls of his cell. The bars were not metal, but bone. He rattled them all, shinbone and breastbone and skull. They did not give way. At first, he had thought himself free. Ten years ago, he had welcomed such power. But he would give anything, now, to shed it, to have back his past and the uncertainty, the frailty and the bright, bright intensity of life. By Sylvia ~ One Day ~ She floated down the stairs, elegant and beautiful as ever, and for a brief moment he let his eyes linger on her loveliness, savouring her presence. Her smile lit the hallway; his name sounded so sweet on those kissable lips. His heart turned over even as his common sense crashed through his daydream. The gulf between them loomed impossibly large, a chasm made of their relative stations in life. One day, maybe, he would have the freedom to speak to her as he would like, would be able to take her in his arms and profess his love. One day. By Otherhawk ~ Choices ~ When he was young and drunk, someone had asked him what was the most important thing a man could possess. He hadn't had to think about his answer; freedom. By that he meant being able to go wherever his fancy, and the current landed. Having choices, that was what mattered. Choices. The weight of a pistol in his hand, balanced, cool against the overpowering heat of the sun. It wasn't even noon yet. Too much sun, nothing to drink, he knew what that did to a man. Death, slow and agonising, was staring him in the face and, for once, he had no urge to stare right back. He had lost everything, why not just admit defeat for the first and final time? And yet…. And yet on his last night aboard, when the rest of that mutinous rabble had been screaming for his blood, William had made him promise that he wouldn't kill himself. He didn't know why, seemed a bit late for any concern about his immortal soul. Come to that, he wasn't even sure if he had one. But he had promised. Despite being a pirate nearly all his life, he'd never once broken a promise. Maybe that was why he didn't make that many of them. The pistol lay on the white sand. He avoided looking at it, not tempting himself with what he wouldn't – couldn't – have. Sometimes freedom lies in not having a choice. By Lady Luna ~ To Fly ~ She had always considered him a good sailor. He was the captain.
But he just did not understand what he had done to her. She had
been wounded when he had discounted her and hers. Now, all he
had was her and the remainder of his so- called crew. They disregarded
her and forgotten what had been hers. It had been years. Then
what had been hers had come back. He had mended her body and fixed
her broken heart. Now she was able to spread her black wings and
fly.
By Lady Luna ~ Safe in the Arms of... Rum? ~ Jack stormed around the island. Blast that man. He had sailed away with his ship! Jack narrowed his eyes as he fingered his pistol. Just one shot would be all he needed. The pirate froze as his foot came down hard on a slab of wood buried in the sand. He cocked his head and gently pulled it up, revealing a pit filled with something. He clambered into the hole, beads swinging around his face. He grinned as a pulled up a bottle of rum. Sure, it wasn't the Pearl, but there was a kind of freedom in losing yourself in a bottle. Jack shook his head at the old memory and looked over at Elizabeth. He grinned as she started to sing. "Drink up, me hearties, yo ho." By Angie ~ The Realist ~ He had never considered himself an idealist, and freedom was, in his opinion, counted among the things idealists liked to muse over. He had lived day to day, taking whatever ups and downs Lady Luck had thrown at him. From sailing with the navy to sleeping with swine, Joshamee Gibbs took it all in stride. But now, standing on the deck of the Pearl, he could not bring himself to suppress the tiny smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth at the sight of his captain, planted at the helm and gazing contentedly out into the darkening horizon. By Tabbycat2000 ~ Freedom ~ Elizabeth had been confined all her life. First by childhood rules, then by the tight shoes and corsets fashion demanded, and finally by the demands of society. She had always yearned to be free. The past few days with the pirates had given her tantalizing glimpses, but in the end, she had been a prisoner. Even on the island, she was trapped. Strange how she should find some freedom aboard a Royal Navy ship, under the Commodore's command. Elizabeth looked down at the Marine's uniform she wore and smiled. Now this, she thought blissfully, was freedom. By Eledhwen ~ True Freedom ~ Will had long since resigned himself to his lot in life. He was an orphan; and as such could count himself lucky to be indentured in a good profession. But now, as the white sails filled above his head, and the water began to rush underneath the prow of the ‘Interceptor’, he found his horizons suddenly expanding. A smile crept across his face. “Discovered there’s more to life than three hours’ sword practice a day, lad?” Will nodded. The pirate grinned a sparkling grin, one be-ringed hand resting lightly on the helm. “Aye. This is the life. This is freedom.”
By Otherhawk ~ Splinters ~
The floor beneath his feet was splintered. If it were a ship, someone would be due a flogging. Splinters. His not-eye itched. It never had before. Things had been different before. He wouldn't have felt the rope around his neck for a start, heavy, scraping at his flesh. It hurt him. He opened his mouth to tell Pintel – and shut it again. That was another thing that was different now from before. Then, there had always been someone to tell him what to do next. He had never been this lonely, he had never been this frightened. He was all alone, people were waiting to watch him die, and he didn't understand why. Falling almost came as a relief.
~.~
All our authors thrive on feedback. Email the Webmaster to have comments forwarded to the author.
|
--