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:
"What
Have I Done?"
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By Honorat Selonnet ~ Whose Guilt? ~
By Nancy ~ Sins Past ~ Solemnly she stood, looking and seeing nothing, hands tightening on the rail. A sharp pain in her palm was the only reply, an answer she didn’t want to hear. Others might blame the erstwhile Captain of The Black Pearl, yet even that infuriating man seemed to know there was more than she let on. The only one to hear her confession had been Will, and now…her heart lurched, and now he could be dead. Now here she was, attempting to act in a manner more mature than the childish impulse that started this whole mess. And she was failing miserably.
By Lorraine ~ Offense Intended ~ Elizabeth stood at the rail and stared into the blue water. She glanced over when she heard another approach. It was the lieutenant who had locked her in the cabin with that infuriating line about mermaids when she tried to warn him about the curse. When he looked back at her, she almost stepped back, his face was so full of malevolence and ire. "What have I done to offend you, Mr. Gillette?" she asked, her answering anger rising. "What have you done? How dare you ask that, you little strumpet? Parading about in your underwear and now breeches. Making false promises to force him to do your bidding. I've seen how you stare after that, that blacksmith. It's disgraceful. Men died for your whims, Miss Swann. Good men." "Were I a man, Mr. Gillette, I would demand satisfaction for that insult." "Were you a man, Miss Swann, we would not be in this situation because the Commodore would never have followed you about doing your bidding like some lovesick schoolboy." There was something other than rage in his voice now. Profound regret. And ... something else. She saw the deep pain on his face and wondered what it meant.
By Geek Mama ~ A Matter for Regret ~ “Search every cabin, every hold, down to the bilges!” His men scattered, sensing his desire for swift and possibly painful retribution. Yes. Almost certainly painful. Absurdly, he’d felt some regret over his dealings with Sparrow. His own inability either to prevent Elizabeth’s accident or accomplish her rescue had impaired his habitual detachment. Then, the attack on the town had enhanced his remorse. Sparrow was no Barbossa. But the man was, apparently, ripe for Bedlam! Imagining they could take the Dauntless! Of all the ludicrous, inconvenient … The ship gave a slight but hair-raising jolt. “Sailors, back to the Interceptor! Now!”
By Felaine ~ Point
of View ~ "I can't believe it," I moaned. "My first day on the ship and I'm in the brig. What have I done wrong?" "Nothing, Andrew." Theodore Groves attempted to calm me, unsuccessfully, need I add. "The older mids put us in here as a joke, a rite of passage, if you will. I'm sure they'll come back for us soon." "What if they forget? What if we're attacked by pirates? What if the powder magazine catches fire? What if--" "Andrew, it's alright." "All right? We're locked in our own bloody brig on our first bloody day at sea! It is not all right!" Groves looked, of all things, embarrassed. "It's not locked," he mumbled. "What?" "You just take everything so seriously, Andrew. We thought it would be funny..." His voice trailed off. I pushed against the cell door; it squeaked open. There are occasions when superior size and bulk are of use. I closed the cell door behind me. Holding it shut with my weight, I seized the key from its hook and locked Groves in. Indignant as he was at this turn of events, when I pocketed the key and pretended to walk away, he proceeded to call upon our Creator using phrases I do not recall from the Church of England liturgy. I returned, leaned against the wall opposite, and smiled at him. "You were right, Theo. It is funny."
By Triskellion ~ Final Decisions ~ His mother had spent years teaching him to form a hardened layer of respectability and propriety about himself. Then she had taught him when to slow down or stop so that cracks in that stony shell had time to reseal. He had learned his lessons well, and had perfected them, he thought, in the years since her death. But now, oh now the molten core that had he had so long contained was breaking free. No longer was he cooling lava, a tough, hardened shell over burning heat. He had not stopped to even try to patch the cracks since Elizabeth's capture; rather, he had let them expand until now he felt as though there were only a few thin fragments of that hard rock floating on the surface of a pool of liquid fire. He had told himself that it didn't matter, that there was no time to waste now and that he could rebuild everything once Elizabeth was safe. Yet here he was, back at Port Royal, and she was safe, and going back into his shell was the last thing he felt like doing. If he turned back now he could return to his old life, but a good man would certainly die, and she would never know the truth of his heart. "Governor Swann." If he did this the shell would melt completely; he could never go back. "Commodore." Did he want to? "Elizabeth."
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