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.
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a Challenge:
Glimpse
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By Sequence_fairy ~ Bargaining ~
There she is, silhouetted behind a sheet, her shadow like a siren calling me, drawing me towards her.
What I wouldn’t give, for just a touch, a taste, a glimpse of the pale flesh beneath that shift. What I wouldn’t sell for the feel of her hands running along my skin, for the wet trail of her tongue down my chest, for the searing warmth of being enveloped within her core, for the ability to feel any of those things. She is my never-to-be-tasted temptation, my never-to-be-touched treasure, and even the merest of glimpses I am afforded by fate will never satisfy my ever-increasing hunger.
By Cersia5 ~ Glimpse ~ A glimpse of him riding proudly atop his ship;
By Triskellion ~ Glimpse ~ Even between iron bars she was fairest thing he'd ever seen. Muzzle flashes before his longing eyes and the scent of burnt powder in his questing nose proved she was really there, closer than she'd been in years. He knew those canons. His Pearl. He knew by the sound where the ball was going and threw himself from the window. She was here for him, he knew it. Except ... When his ears stopped ringing and the smoke cleared, the hole was in the next cell. Her captain could only look longingly around the edge of his cage to glimpse the freedom beyond the stone walls of the fort. "You missed, luv," he whispered to the wind. "Damn ye," he whispered lovingly, for he still adored her even as she sailed away with a cant to her sails that told him she'd done it on purpose. Twelve years free of the bottom and she still blamed him for the burning that turned her timbers black. By Cat ~ Another Glimpse ~ I know those guns! He leaps up, his heart echoing the throb of cannon fire in the night. It's the Pearl! He croons the words, as if to a lover. There she sits, his dark lady, in the harbor below. Flashing her anger at what she has become, she calls to him, beckoning. It was not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails that were taken from him. For what the Black Pearl really is…is freedom. His first glimpse of her, after all the years, is through prison bars. The irony is not lost on him. By Tuesday_suit ~ Enough ~ A glimpse was all she ever got. A flash, a hint, a sliver of daylight shining on his battered soul. It came when he stood aboard the Pearl, softly caressing the wheel, or as he walked with their daughter’s tiny fingers grasping one hand, the other weaving lightly through the air as he spun a fanciful yarn that nestled deep into the child’s pink shell ears. Sometimes she wished for more, but the door behind which he kept
his heart was heavy, and while she held the keys in her hands,
she seldom used them. A glimpse was always enough. By This_weirdness ~ Glimpse ~ He is everywhere - in the salt on my lips, in the sway of the ship beneath my feet. I smell the warmth of his skin on the men around me. It's his voice I hear in the crash of the waves against the hull; an insistent accusation. Pirate. Pirate. Pirate. Each night, I stand here and watch the sun as she sinks beneath the shimmering horizon. Each night I catch a glimpse of him, a golden smile lighting the sky before the darkness envelops me. Mister Gibbs was wrong. The world is more than a bit less bright without him. By Tiamary ~ The Voice ~ She is sitting on our stairs. My stairs. She looks... Isolated. Ashamed. As she should do! No, she shouldn't. Trying, I am, to block that voice in my head that says I ought to be the last to judge her. No, she hasn't apologized for her sins. Nor have I. And I have sinned against her. The thought enrages me! I want to strangle her along with the source of that voice that says I had it coming! The voice that won't let me take my revenge. But the wench killed me. Aye. And three cheers for her. Shut it! By Tiamary ~ Corrupted ~ Ah! There's the turncoat, about to sneak off. Seems I've corrupted him at last. Sad, that. The boy blacksmith is gone. Off to frolic with the youth I used to be, perhaps, wherever the ghosts of innocence go. Her ghost will be there too. I wonder... who taught her to buckle a swash with such speed? Who taught her of the "taste" and how to flaunt it? To seduce with rum and kill with a kiss? T'wasn't me. Nor Turner. Sad, that. Well. Time to send Will to Davy Jones. Only this time, with ammunition. Here's luck to you, Pirate. By Djarum99 ~ Dead Reckoning ~ Victory still rings as she storms his threshold, the air thick with questions...will you return, die twice, forgive me? Momentum carries her forward, too close. Barechested, skin glazed candle-gold, he presses bloodied linen against a gash concealed by leather and a jaded harlequin’s grin. She hadn’t seen, the wound, his truth - blazing now in the crucible between them, molten in the alchemy of that naked midnight stare. He stills beneath her touch, wary, bowstring-taut. “More lies, Lizzie?” “I never lied.” “That’s...worse.” “Yes.” “I’m leaving.” “Not tonight.” “Will I survive it?” “No. We won't.” “No mercy?” “Pirate.” “Come here.” By Compassrose7577 ~ Glimpse ~ Well-honed by life's destructions, he was an artisan of deception: evasive and elusive, dodging and feigning, here nor there, there nor here, truth being only an option, to be considered with great discretion, a last resort. It was a rarity, one of those fleeting moments, buried deep among disarming, gold-laced ivory smiles and dark-rimmed eyes that danced with mirth and devilment, decoying flutterings of fingers and a barrage of circuitous words meant to confuse rather than confide. But there it was, for the quick and the perceptive, fleeting but undeniable, a glimpse of what Captain Jack Sparrow was actually thinking. By Obfusc8ter ~ Unbidden ~ He appeared suddenly, fantastic and unbidden
like one of her This, her terrifying gift, her damning power. She held him
then and "No worries," he said, and quieted her with his clever tongue. Not her charge to give him warning... Now she curses herself as the bayou burns with the light of one By Florencia7 ~ A Glimpse of You ~ In my book, on a darkened, sea-scented page, in black ink, I see... a glimpse of you fascinating me. In the firelight, against the ebony sky, in the sand soft like ivory stardust, I see... a glimpse of you watching me. In the kiss, on a cobalt blue day, in your eyes black like my soul, I see... a glimpse of you knowing me. In the rain, in your face drained of adroit ambiguity, enticing mischief, clandestine motifs, in your eyes fixed on my face contorted with pain, I see... You giving me away. By Blacklilac17 ~ Glimpse ~ The sea was endless, stretching away toward the horizon, obscured by a mysterious mist. Somewhere in the blue, beyond the horizon, lay a small island, where the palm trees swayed in the tropical breeze, where the swell of the ocean kissed the golden sand, just as a pirate captain kissed a young woman in the azure ecstasy of the tide, water swirling around them. Her shining hair fanned around her head, mingling with his black hair, white arms wound around his strong, sun-browned body. For a moment, the mist had rolled aside, showing a glimpse of
what might have been. By SalR323 ~ Heat ~ Port Royal languishes in the furnace blast of summer, heat shimmering from bleached stone and tinder-dry grass; Elizabeth bridles against the inferno, for has she not always been steel betwixt hammer and anvil, forged by man’s hand into something strange and of his own devising? Miss Elizabeth Swann, loving daughter. Mrs Elizabeth Norrington, dutiful wife. Mrs Elizabeth Turner…? Harsh-edged diamonds spill across a dazzling sea and against the glittering edge of the world she remembers black sails – she remembers cool sand beneath bare feet and the burn of rum in her throat. She remembers freedom, glimpsed in flame-bright eyes. By Cersia5 ~ Gone ~ Captain Jack Sparrow reached out to catch his beloved jar of dirt. But it raced away faster than his lustful grasp could gather it back into his arms. Like a virgin daughter seeking shelter away from his roguish hands it had fell away. It had fell away from him carrying his leverage with it. Then he heard the crash. He quickly glimpsed over railing hoping it had been a rum bottle that had broken instead. The dirt was spread across the deck below as if it was a willing harlot waiting to be bedded by him. A glimpse over the railing was all it took for him to realize that his freedom was endangered yet again. By Fried_flamingo ~ Thy Might Unbound ~ “Look. What do you see?” His words mingle with the voice of the surf. She shrugs. “Water.” “Just that?” He holds the bottle higher. Crystal liquid captures the sun, bleaches it, casts it across his eyes; a mask, silver upon gold. “Does it move?” “Only by your hand.” “What power does it possess?” “None.” “Do you fear it?” She laughs. “No.” He rises, walks to the water’s edge, uncorks the bottle, lets the contents rejoin the ocean. In the distance, waves shape rock. “Now do you see?” She sees. Around her ankles, the sea curls her icy fingers and pulls. By Blacklilac17 ~ Glimpses
of the Soul ~ They say eyes are the windows of the soul, but his soul is too often veiled. There are, however, moments when she steals glimpses of his innermost heart. Standing beside him at the wheel of the ship, his hands meeting the resistance, eyes gloriously wild, facing the sea. When they are making love and he is thrusting against her, she loves looking into his face when he reaches culmination, something in his eyes so bare, so exposed, she feels almost ashamed of seeing it, but her heart leaps joyfully at having caught sight of raw emotion behind those cool eyes. By Dancing_in_time ~ Sunday Bloody Sunday ~ The world tumbled as he fell, and for once he felt his own blood escape his long-dormant veins. A trickle forced its way down the side of his chest, sticking to the linen of his shirt as it flowed. His hand found a smooth, cold object and he immediately grasped it, as if the apple would save his life, squeezing as hard as his weakly hand could. He felt his once warm blood grow cold as the lone trickle dripped onto his golden hoard. What good it did him now, racing to leave such a hopeless body, a corpse that served no more purpose. He focused for the first time on the sight above him. The pregnant moon bled its frozen light upon him. And as he thought he saw a tiny light twinkle beside the naked orb, all light left Barbossa’s eyes and he glimpsed no more of the stars. By Fried_flamingo ~ An Echo of Stars ~ “The world seems a bit less bright,” says Gibbs, but Elizabeth thinks him blind. For the bayou shines gold tonight. Sorrow glistens and tears catch each flame, reflecting them back tenfold. The heavens have fallen, she thinks. I shall drown among these stars. Truth is written upon stricken faces, as they sway and moan, waist deep in black water. Their grief is drawn in candlelight, their mourning pure and honest. He was loved, she realises. He was loved. Elizabeth stands in the doorway and turns to the shadows for fear of them seeing what is written in her own tears. By Geek Mama ~ That Glimpse of Ankle ~ She was different, Elizabeth was. Bloody Miss Swann. So full of romantical pirate tales, so sure of herself, even after repeated and undeniably unpleasant encounters with Barbossa and his gaggle of miscreants. Jack's blood ran cold, remembering her shrieks as they'd laid rough hands upon her, before Will had shown up. Could've been a bad business. She'd done all right, though. Even made that long swim to shore without much help from him. The Pearl was a dot on the horizon now. Jack's blood ran both cold and hot at that, and he continued cleaning his pistol with special care. But he had to admit, the sight of Miss Swann approaching, barefoot in the sand, her shift gathered out of the way just enough to afford him a glimpse of strong, shapely ankle, did much to improve the outlook. Rum and Miss Elizabeth Swann. At least he wouldn't be bored.
~.~
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