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Challenge: Sickness
April 6 , 2005

By Hereswith
April 7, 2005

~ Dawning ~

The fever broke, at last, as night faded, and a bleak dawn found its way into the room, revealing a wigless and distinctly dishevelled Weatherby Swann, Governor-to-be, sitting by the side of his daughter's bed.

"Papa?"

"Yes?" He gently brushed a few matted strands of hair away from her face and stroked her cheek, the skin beneath his fingers so pale that the sprinkling of freckles was even more pronounced than usual. "What is it, child?"

"Do you think we'll see dolphins, on the voyage?" she asked, a wistful longing in her voice, and she reminded him so much of her mother, at that moment, that it tore at his heart. "I should like to see dolphins. And, perhaps—" She breathed in a small sigh. "Pirates?"

The harsh reprimand that Weatherby, at any other time, would have hastened to utter, died on his lips. It had been days since she had had such a light in her eyes, and he would not have quenched that for the world.

"I don't know about pirates, Elizabeth," he said. "But I'm quite certain there will be dolphins."

By Rennie
April 7, 2005

~ Sickness ~

It wasn't ending. He was certain even the soles of his feet had come up, to be given to the denizens of the deep. No matter, he wouldn't be needin' them anyway. They could just shove his sole-less feet into his hose and shoes and bury him. He wasn't fussy; anywhere would do, just so long as they didn't linger about it. Even the image in the mirror was shades the wretched glass could not possibly have created on its own.

"Don't worry, lad. It will pass in time and you'll have your sea legs."

"You lyin'…"

"Remember, to leeward!"

By Geek Mama
April 9, 2005

~ Sick of Love ~

By Eledhwen
April 9, 2005

~ A Tarnished Pearl ~

“Apparently there’s a leak.”

A throwaway remark, and one the Bo’sun ignored as he locked the brig and stomped back up on deck. Jack grimaced, and kicked his toe in the puddle on the floor. There was a leak. There ought not to have been one.

He found a dryish spot and settled down, listening to the sound of his ship. There was water rushing under her hull, and wind was in her sails – those tattered, holey sails – but it was the wrong sort of wind, and she knew it. There were creaks that told Jack of her pain, and a moan as the cursed breeze blew through the holes in the canvas above him.

Leaning back against the rusty bars of the brig, he patted the floor consolingly.

“I’ll not leave you in his hands,” he promised her. “Curse or no curse, the bloody fool oughtn’t to have treated you like this.”

The Pearl listed in the wind, and shuddered. Jack closed his eyes, and berated himself for actions he had taken ten years before. He knew, in his heart, that his beauty’s sickness was caused as much by his own pride and greed as by Barbossa’s neglect. And he swore to himself to cure her, or die trying.

~.~

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