The Fortunes of Ektibar Chapter 27: Done, a pirates of the caribbean fanfic

Chapter: Done

Here's much to do with hate, but more to do with love. Why then, O brawling love, O loving hate, O anything of nothing first create! O heavy lightness, serious vanity, misshapen chaos of well-seeming forms, feather of lead, bright smoke, cold fire, sick health, still-waking sleep that is not what it is! This love feel I, that feel no love in this.

-- Romeo and Juliet, William Shakespeare

Sophia woke sometime during the night, encased in Jack's arms. Safety. His forehead was resting against her shoulder, and she felt his breath against her neck. Her skin was still salty from the ocean.

They both knew, now, that their relationship was far more than physical.

Perhaps it was the way Jack looked at her as he watched her beneath him, arched and taut like the strings of a violin, throat exposed as she threw back her head in her consuming desire. His eyes were soft and completely exposed, and she'd never before seen him look as he did then. Afterwards she had kissed him, poured out her soul in a silent promise. He hadn't drawn away. For the first time, they'd truly made love. Now, she stroked the broad span of his shoulders with the tenderness of a wife, the wife she had never been to her true husband.

She felt him move against her skin and exhale in a quiet sigh. Sophia frowned. What was she going to do? Before it had been simple; this was more complicated. Chaotic. How could she go home? She had promised herself she would leave these adventures behind her and forget, but she could not remember what her life had been like before The Black Pearl. She must have done something. Maybe she sewed and cooked and cleaned like everyone else.

That sounded very boring, now.

"Jack. . ." She whispered, her fingertips coming to brush across his forehead.

"Mmm."

"What am I going to do?"

Jack sighed again, and left the warm crook of her shoulder to prop himself up with his elbow. He felt his throat constrict as he looked at her. Her hair tumbled lightly across her shoulders and breasts and her eyes were dark in the shadows. He could simply not imagine life without her. His voice was a low rumble when he spoke and his eyes seemed impossibly black. "'Bout what, love?"

Love. "I don't know what to do. . . I was supposed to go home," she murmured, withdrawing her gaze from his in a desperate attempt to quell the tremors in her skin.

Jack's face visibly darkened, and Sophia watched his eyes go stony. "'S your choice. You know tha'," he said thickly. His mind preoccupied, Jack swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood, intent on finding his trousers. He needed to be out in the open air tonight. He needed to think.

Sophia felt anxiety well up inside her like a toxin. "But if it was your decision?" She needed to know.

"It's not." He left her then, despite the voice in his head that told him to go to her, to plead with her to stay.

Sophia, her legs tangled in the sheets, white on white, sank back down into the pillows but could not sleep.

Jack was still outside, staring out over the ocean, when the sun rose. He said nothing as he heard footsteps behind him, expecting Sophia. But it was Elizabeth who stood beside him, her fingers dancing nervously over her tattered skirts. Finally, she spoke, her voice small. "Do you want her to stay with you?"

Jack looked at her sharply to find the girl's intense green eyes staring at him blearily and with wisdom far to great for a mere fifteen-year-old. Jack gazed at her mutely. He didn't particularly wish to talk to her. He had been quite enjoying himself before she'd come along and ruined his silence. "'S not me decision. She can do what she likes."

Elizabeth shot him an exasperated glance, crossing her arms over her chest. "You're impossible. All men are. I swear I'll never marry," she said childishly, and Jack quirked an eyebrow with silent amusement. He thought that he saw a shadow of pain flash across her beautiful face, turning her eyes bitter. "I'm spoiled anyway," she continued in a deceptively nonchalant manner. After pausing, she spoke again. "If you ask Sophia to stay she will. There's nothing left for her back home."

With that, the young woman walked away.

Sophia was busy attempting to bury herself in the sheets of Jack's bed, her mind whirling in circles as she desperately tried to make the most important decision of her life. Her eyes were open but she did not notice Elizabeth as she opened the door timidly and walked over to the bed where Sophia lay. She was naked under the sheets, but Elizabeth either didn't notice or simply did not care. Sophia felt the bed sink down as Elizabeth sat next to her. "I saw you last night," said Elizabeth.

Sophia didn't move. "And I you."

"Do you love him, then?" the girl asked quietly, her hand coming to rest on Sophia's bare shoulder.

Sophia's entire musculature tensed as she rolled over, clutching the sheets to her breast, to stare into the eyes of the young woman who was beginning to feel like her sister. "I don't know. I'm not sure I've ever loved anyone before. I don't know what it feels like."

Elizabeth shrugged her thin shoulders and looked at her with a sadness that made Sophia's heart break like the fragile wing of a dove. Sophia wrapped an arm around Elizabeth's waist and drew the girl down to lie beside her. Her cousin needed a mother right now. After a while Elizabeth spoke, her voice thick with unshed tears. "I think you do. Love him, I mean. What else could cause you so much grief? Mother. . ." She hesitated as she remembered that Vera was dead. "Mother used to say that being in love is painful."

Sophia smiled faintly, but was not about to take the opinion of a girl just out childhood over her own instinct. She still did not know. "Your mother was probably correct," Sophia said, mostly for her cousin's benefit.

Elizabeth huddled closer to Sophia and was silent for a long time. Soon Sophia felt warm tears on her shoulder as they fell from her cousin's eyes like pearls clouded with salt. "Last night you were happy, Sophia. You looked content. I saw it in your eyes," said Elizabeth, muddled with pain and confusion. "When I was. . . well. . . I didn't understand. I didn't know that a man put himself inside you. It hurt terribly. Why were you so happy?"

Sophia was quiet for a while, before she lifted Elizabeth's chin to brush the girl's tears away. "When you find the right person you'll know. It will be frightening for a time, but you'll understand. It's. . . difficult to explain." Sophia fought down a smile at Elizabeth's naïveté, but tried to articulate how she felt as clearly as possible. Anything more would confuse the girl, especially after having experienced rape.

Elizabeth nodded and, sniffling, stood up. "Captain Sparrow wants you to stay, I think."

"I know he does, Elizabeth. I'm not blind. But I don't know what I want yet," said Sophia carefully.

Elizabeth said nothing and, obviously deliberating over the issue extensively, wandered out the door and left Sophia to her thoughts.

Jack didn't know how long he stayed out, his elbows resting against the railing of the ship, his unseeing eyes staring stoically into the blue waves. Time blurred and melded together. He tried to imagine the ship and his life without Sophia.

But everything blasted into sharp focus when he felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around his waist and a familiar body arch so that Sophia could lay her cheek against his back and sigh. She stayed like that for several minutes, eyes closed, feeling his heartbeat and muscles bond together with hers.

Then she knew she loved him. They'd been through so much together, brought one another through more difficult times that they ever could have imagined, and she loved him.

When she spoke her voice was soft. "I'm staying."

Jack sighed, forcing her arms apart as he turned swiftly around and caught her in a hard kiss. Then he said, "I knew you couldn't resist me, love."

Sophia smiled, her mind still reeling from his kiss. "Cheeky."

"Pirate." He kissed her again.

That night, completely contented and safe in her lover's embrace, Sophia dreamt a terrible dream.

She watched through a pane of glass as her husband rounded on the still form of Jack. Her lover's once beautiful span of back was flayed open and bleeding as the steel head of the whip tore at his brown skin. She could do nothing but plead.

"No! Stop, please! James!" She clutched at her husband's ridged arm.

"Step back, Sophia." He jerked his arm and sent her sprawling to the ground. Jack wasn't moving and the last of the lashings was finally dealt.

Sophia ran to Jack's side and sank to her knees, her fingers fumbling with the rope that bound his hands. Finally, he tumbled to the ground, rolling over to reveal the bruised and bloody face that made Sophia gasp.

One hundred lashes. No man could survive that.

Ignoring James's commands to keep away, she laid her head against Jack's broken, unmoving chest, tears falling silently from her eyes.

After an infinite amount of time, Sophia turned her blank pupils towards her husband's face. He was flushed with rage and Sophia watched his knuckles turn white against the handle of the whip. Use it, Sophia urged silently. Let me join him. But James did nothing.

"Why?" Sophia screamed shrilly through parched lips. "It was all my fault! He's done nothing! I seduced him, James! Punish me! You've killed him and he did nothing!" She was nearly hysterical now as she cradled Jack's head in her lap. Her fingertips smoothed back the rough strands of black hair from his glassy eyes. They were still open. Empty.

James's voice seemed to resonate from all sides and reverberate in her head until it hurt, and yet he spoke softly. "He is a pirate, my love." He used the title as if calling her a whore. "He took terrible advantage of you. He deserves to burn in hell where he belongs."

Sophia let out a high screech of horror and pain as she rushed at him, but suddenly he was not there. There was nothing but empty space and Jack's body was crumbling into black ants that scuttled across her bare feet. She heard a roar and looked up to see the colossal sheet of the ocean rising over her head. It blocked out the sun, and then there was blackness. Blackness and the ache of loss.

She woke with a scream, her brow beaded with sweat and tears running down her cheeks. Even seconds after she awoke, the details of the dream faded, but the message and feeling of it remained and made her fingers tremble. He was dead. James had killed him.

Jack was so startled by Sophia's outburst that he fell off of the bed and landed with a resounding thump on the hard wood floor. Scrambling up, he clambered over to Sophia and gathered her shaking body into his arms. "Wha' is it, Sophie? What's wrong with you?"

Sophia jumped as she felt his arms around her. He was dead. Then she felt his body heat and his heart beating and settled, burying her face into his shoulder. "Oh god. . . you died right before my eyes. James killed you. He said you deserve to burn in hell because you took advantage of me," she whimpered, clinging to him.

Jack stroked her hair and said nothing, wondering if perhaps her nightmare did have some aspect of truth to it. What would Norrington do if he ever caught the man that had taken his wife from him? Jack wasn't worried in the least—that man's pathetic ship would never catch The Black Pearl—but it did bring rise to a new dimension of their relationship. He'd all but forgotten about the commodore.

Sophia pictured him motionless and cold over and over again, squeezing her eyes shut to try and block the image. "He's searching for us, I know he is. He'll never stop if I stay. He'll kill you and force me to live as I did. . . without meaning." Her voice broke after that, closing her throat and rendering her unable to speak.

Jack lifted her chin and ran his thumb across her cheekbone. "He can't catch The Pearl, you know tha'. I won't let 'im take you away," he murmured, his black eyes drilling into hers. Sophia looked away.

"But there's still a chance, Jack, and you can't stop him if you're dead. You don't know him. When he's determined he'll stop at nothing, and he's not at all forgiving. He'd kill you just for touching me," Sophia whispered breathlessly, pausing before leaning in towards him and pressing a desperate, hard kiss to his lips. "I have to go back, Jack. I can't stay knowing that he could come any day. You understand, don't you?"

Jack stared over her head as she melted into him and remained rigid despite her lips at his shoulder. She would leave. He couldn't force her, he refused to. The pain hurt deep in his chest but he masked it with indifference. "Aye, love."

Sophia saw right through his façade. "I'm sorry. . . I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you were killed. I'd sooner live an empty life with a man I didn't. . ." She caught herself before she said "love. " She couldn't bring herself to speak the word aloud. "With a man who's company I didn't enjoy than know I was the cause of your death," she finished lamely.

Jack frowned. "You've nothin' t' be sorry 'bout, love. I told you tha' you could go home after everythin' was over an' now it is."

Sophia looked at him with her heartbreaking eyes and then, quickly, leaned in to kiss him with a passion that she drew from her very essence and left her feeling void. Jack nipped her lip aggressively and Sophia thought of it as the punishment that he had seemed too indifferent to administer. Grasping her shoulders, he rolled her over and pressed her into the mattress with his body, before exchanging the contact to a lighter, more gentle touch as his fingertips moved across her collarbone. Sophia had the impression that he was trying to commit her entire body into memory. The feel of her skin, how her muscles moved across her bones, the soft globes of her breasts and the swell of her hips. Then he kissed her again and she surrendered her thoughts.

When she awoke the next morning he was gone and the ship was moving beneath her. They were on their way.

After only several hours Jack returned to find Sophia staring at the ceiling, still naked in his bed, and they made love again. Sophia gasped and bit his shoulder as he moved over her. Jack quirked his lips afterwards as he examined the red mark she'd left there. "Ye bloody hellcat, you," he growled, exaggerating his accent and grinning. The smile did not reach his eyes. Sophia, feeling a pang of distress, gathered him into her arms again and he laid his head on her chest. She could feel him exhale against her breasts.

"Tell me about the Fortunes. Did you look through them again?"

Jack told her how he had taken the newfound treasure to his "friend at 'The Silver Rider'" and his assumptions had been correct; the loads of seemingly useless papers, books, and documents were worth more than any treasure he had ever dreamed of. Sophia could see the gleam of success in his eyes as he spoke. To her the triumph was, obviously, somewhat bittersweet.

The days passed in a swift blur for Sophia. She and Jack rarely left his cabin, and despite the impending goodbye, the time with Jack, utterly alone and without interruption, was the happiest in her life. She grew more in love every day, but had not to courage to say so.

Jack, for the first time in his life, was completely content. Every hour the emotion that squeezed his heart to its will grew, and he did not know how to place it. All he knew was that his passion for this woman multiplied ten times over each night so that, now, it nearly consumed him.

But soon it was the night before they would dock at Port Royal, just inside the tiny cove in which Sophia had seen the floating light nearly a year ago.

Jack was not gentle with her that night. She knew that she would be sore the next morning, and she was thankful because it would remind her of him all the more. She would remember how he felt inside her for longer. He sucked harshly at her nipple, and she groaned with sheer pleasure when he sheathed himself completely within her. The tears began to slip from beneath her eyelids as she drew closer to release and soon she was crying quietly. Jack kissed her tears away with abandon, his mouth lingering on the salty wetness to memorize how she tasted. "Don't cry, love. . ." he said thickly between thrusts, but the sound of his voice only made her cry more tears.

They continued to fall afterwards, when Jack held her tightly against his sweaty chest. She watched the small droplets on his brown skin. Finally, she spoke, her voice heavy with crying, "Promise you won't forget, Jack. . ."

He grinned widely despite the feeling that his body was breaking in two. He smiled for her. "Never. 'S impossible, Sophie. You're. . ." Then he was lost for words and kissed her forehead gently.

In the morning she left before he awoke, and went to her cabin to gather her meager possessions.

Port Royal looked like a distant prison to Sophia. She stood, looking over the bow of the ship and fighting tears. She wouldn't cry again today.

As they neared the cove the crew said their goodbyes. Elizabeth seemed to have made friends on the ship and, in one brief escape from Jack's cabin several days ago for food, Sophia had seen her scrambling about the ropes, her dress shorn off at the knees like a pirate princess. She had changed on the ship, just as Sophia had.

Sophia was quiet and withdrawn as she exchanged long embraces with every single crewmember. Anamaria's eyes were brimming with rare moisture. Each of the men held onto her tightly. "We'll miss you, Sophia," or "I hope to see you again, Miss Cuthburt." Those who had known her from before still called her by her maiden name.

She did not see Jack.

Just as she was about to depart, to walk down the narrow gangplank and onto dry land, he came. Elizabeth was already on the shore and waiting for her and the crew was standing in a huddled mass behind her, some wiping discreetly below their eyes. Jack appeared out of nowhere and swept her up in a tight embrace and a kiss that stole her breath away. Sophia wrapped her arms around his neck as he kissed her throat feverishly. She heard him murmur something against her skin.

"What?" She asked breathlessly.

"Don't go."

There it was. He'd finally said it.

She would die if she knew she was the cause of his death. She'd torture herself until she couldn't take it anymore and then she'd end her own life. It was better if they stayed separate.

He continued. "I. . ."

She knew what he was going to say and she couldn't bear to hear him say the words. I love you. "Shh. . . I know, Jack."

Then she left him. She slipped out of his arms and his life and walked down the gangplank with her eyes straight ahead, imagining his face as he watched her leave. It was only after she had rounded the hill, her arm intertwined with Elizabeth's for support, that she allowed herself to cry.

Jack watched her go, his eyes betraying no feeling, nothing of the torture he was submitting to now. He let her leave.

The crew watched in silence, respectful of their captain. They'd quietly averted their eyes as he'd held her for the last time, kissed her skin for the last time in his life. He was sure he would not see her again. He would never come back to Port Royal. The grief was too great.

He turned to look each and every one of his men in the eye. Their faces betrayed their sadness. Anamaria was crying openly, tears running down her face. She let them dry on her cheeks.

This would not do. He could hide his pain easily; he'd done it before. But his crew would have to forget. Pirates could not hold sorrow close to their hearts.

"We've got a bloody treasure t' spend, mates. What're you all doin' standin' around?"

Their faces brightened minutely as they remembered the hoard below deck. As they hurried to cast off, Jack watched the sloping precipice that Sophia had disappeared over just moments before. There were no words to describe how much he would long for her in the weeks and months ahead.

But she was lost to him now. She had another life.

Later, Sophia would not remember the walk home. She put one foot in front of the other but she remembered none of it. She only remembered Charlotte's face when she walked into her semi-familiar house with Elizabeth in tow.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! Where have you been, Miss Sophia? Good God, we thought you were dead ten times over!" The distraught maid stammered, holding a hand to bosom and fanning herself with her apron.

Sophia looked blankly at her and did not answer. Elizabeth stepped in shyly. "She'll tell you all later. I think what Sophia needs now is a good rest in her own bed."

Charlotte nodded. "Oh, of course! You must be exhausted. Come along, dear." With that, she bustled towards the stairs, but Sophia's voice stopped her.

"Where is my husband?"

Charlotte turned, her eyes wide and her lips pressed together so that they formed a thin white line. "You haven't heard. Of course you haven't. You've been gone for much longer. . ." She mumbled as if to herself, her hands fiddling nervously in front of her body.

Sophia looked sharply at her. "What? What happened? Where is he?"

Charlotte dropped her eyes to the floor and curtseyed out of habit. "We've been alone here for months, miss. You husband. . . the commodore's ship sank nearly five months ago while he was looking for you. On his way to India, if I remember correctly. He'd had an informant tell him that they'd seen a pirate's ship. . . the one that took you. Sparrow, was it? We haven't heard from him since. . . It's a great tragedy, miss. The whole town's been miserable. . ."

But Sophia heard nothing more. James was dead. She wasn't bound to anyone. She could be free. Jack was safe. There was nothing left for her here. She'd made a terrible mistake.

Sophia turned on her heel and ran out of the door. No one followed her, but she heard both Elizabeth and Charlotte's voices call her name. She ran down the path on which she had come but did not remember. She ran, stumbling, down the hill. She had to get to Jack.

The rocky beach was wide and vacant. Empty. She saw no ship on the horizon.

They'd left.

She was lost. She would die here, she was sure.

She loved him and he'd left, just as she had.

"No. NO!" Her voice reverberated off of the cliffs around her but never reached the ears of another soul. She was alone and always would be.

She sank to her knees in the coarse sand, her face wet with tears as it would be forever.

Always.

She stayed like that for hours until the tide came in and soaked her thighs with sea-brine. She stayed, sobbing into her hands, until she had no more tears and her mouth was dry with thirst. Then she stood on shaky legs and went back to the house that did not feel like her own.

No one ever saw the lone woman kneeling on the sand that day, wishing for a love that never was.

We have been lost to each other for so long. My name means nothing to you. My memory is dust.

-- The Red Tent, Anita Diamant

A/N: Well, that's it. The End. Finite. Fine. Nada más. I know I promised an epilogue, but, unfortunately, I've decided that it just isn't necessary. This seemed a proper closure for me.

It could never have been, you know, at least not in this story. They were too late and too complicated and too different. I'm exhausted now, and Sophia's all alone. How depressing.

It's been a very long journey, hasn't it? 01-07-04 to 09-22-04. More than nine months. Twenty-seven chapters. About a gazillion words. Thanks to every single person who has ever, ever read this. The other day my esteemed English professor happened to say, "If you write something and no one reads it, you haven't completed your process as an author." I am a very firm believer in that philosophy, and I thank you all for completing my writing.

There will be a sequel. I don't know when—I need to rest and focus on school for a bit—but I will eventually get around to it. It may be a couple weeks or it may be next summer. In the meantime, I may add a chapter or two to one of my one-shots or start a new, more relaxed fic. So far, this is the working title for the sequel: Lady Ektibar and the Pirate. It's crap and if anyone has any suggestions, by all means, do tell. Just something general about Jack and Sophia. I can tell you that the sequel will be much shorter and be more about their relationship than an actual adventure. Sound good?

I have a treat for you all. The first person to answer the question below correctly will receive the epilogue that never was for their VERY own. To share or not to share, that is your choice. Please send the answer to me via my e-mail at . The question:

What is the name of the only real and working ship to be used in the filming of POTC? Where does she commonly travel to in the summer? Where was she en route to on September 7th?

(Technically that's three questions, so I'll give you a hint(s): a, the answers to the second and third questions are very near to my heart, and b, look on la website, if you can find it.)

And another thing: on my down time (between this story and sequel) I may do little cookies, tidbits, if you will, concerning Jack and Sophia for my own amusement. If you wish to receive said texts, please either give me your e-mail in a review or just send it to me.

And now, for the last time, adios and gracias. I shall see you all soon. And, as always, tell me what you think.