Fate Intervenes
Chapter Fourteen: Into the Rising Sun
Hector Barbossa opened his eyes to see the pitch black of early morning. He raised a hand above his face, splaying his fingers. He couldn't see it.
" Is this what it's like…to be dead?" he whispered.
Closing his eyes again, extinguishing the two pale gray flames that had shot into the dark, he clenched his fists. All he could see was Davy's face, suave and confident, his silvering black hair pulled back elegantly, wearing his Admiral's jacket and knickers, his gleaming sword. Noelle had not been as taken with Davy as she had with him; that he knew.
Then what was it? What had made her commit the ultimate suicide?
He stood, stretching lethargically. Walking to the windows, he drew back the thick scarlet cloth, revealing the pale gold of the rising sun on the watery sea. Heavily, he sighed, rubbing his eyes. It had been far too long. He had languished with this pain for many years. It was time to avenge her or join her.
He heard the front entryway's door open quietly, and walked out of his own room. Pierre stood in the doorway, watching the sunrise. Barbossa coughed quietly.
" Oh, good morning, Hector," Pierre said softly. " Did you sleep well?"
Barbossa nodded, looking down at the floor. " Yes, thank ye."
Pierre snorted. " When are you going to rid yourself of that terrible colloquial speech?"
Barbossa shrugged. " When it decides ter ride itself of me, I suppose."
Pierre sat at the mahogany table, sipping a cup of tea he had left there. " Sit, please, Hector."
Barbossa sat wearily, looking out the wide window, out to the world he truly knew: the sea.
Pierre set his cup of tea down and stirred it with a silver spoon aimlessly. " Hector, are you planning on finding him?"
" Yes." The word was soft and precise.
" And when you do?"
The question hung in the humid air.
Barbossa looked at Pierre. " I will demand that he restrains Calypso and has her perform the most sacred of rites…"
" The resurrection rite?" Pierre inhaled quickly. " Hector, don't do this to yourself…what if it fails?"
" Can it possibly fail more than I have? As a Captain, as a husband, as a man?" Barbossa cried. His eyes widened. " Can anything in this world possibly falter more than I have faltered?"
" Hector, I know you loved her…lad, I know every day you relive that moment…"
Her eyes were so perfect, so wide open and pure…her lips were softly tinged with blue, her hair floating majestically…the chains didn't look painful, they appeared silvery and light, like necklaces and rings…
Barbossa bit his lip. " Ye have no idea, Pierre."
" And if you attempt to bring back what's lost…is it worth it in the end? Is it worth it to have her back and then lose her? Regaining what is lost can be more painful than losing it," Pierre said sagely.
Barbossa sighed. " 'Tis a journey I've been meanin' ter take. Before she brought me back. Before I was given a second chance. Now, more 'an ever, I want her to have that chance…She deserves another breath…"
" She took her own away, Hector."
Barbossa's face paled. " Don't ever say that again…don't you….she…she must have had--"
" Davy."
Barbossa growled, " I'm finding' him, Pierre. And when I do…I'm goin' ter throw that cursed locket into the waves. He'll know what it's like, then, ter live alone without naught but the memories." He gripped the ring around his neck. " With naught but the feeling of loneliness."
" You are not a vengeful man, Hector. This isn't you."
With careful precision, working his lips around the words as though if they touched them, it would crumble to ashes, Barbossa murmured, " You're right…it's the man I was supposed to be."
--
Jack opened one eye. He had heard footsteps on the floorboards, creaking and wary. He sat upright, reaching for his pistol.
Barbossa stood at the foot of his bed, hands up. He did not look panicked. " Fer the love o' Mary, Jack, why do ye always have ter reach for yer flintlock?"
Jack licked his teeth. " And why, pray tell, are you in my bedroom?"
Elizabeth murmured hazily, " It's Pierre's room, Jack."
Jack sighed heavily, scratching at his hair. He missed the familiar sound it made, the rustle and grit of sand and dried rum. " So…"
" I'm leavin', Jack."
" I'm not surprised. We are leaving as well."
Barbossa leveled gazes with Jack. " No, I don't mean leavin' with ye. I've got ter return those men to Tortuga, and then…"
Jack's deep brown eyes lost their mischievous spark. " You can't," he whispered.
" ' Tis the only way to die with a clean soul," Barbossa said resolutely.
Jack swung his legs off of the side of the bed, stretching. His tan muscles, lean and strong in the early morning light, were laced with blue and green tattoos. " Please, Hector." He stood. " You can't do this to yourself, mate. You're a Pirate King. Who will take your place?"
" I haven't thought that far yet, Jack," Barbossa said, with a tilted head and a mocking tone.
" Where is the Captain I used to know?" Jack asked softly. Barbossa's wild eyes stilled. " Where is the man who could plan an entire journey down to the last ounce of grapeshot? You're not a raving mad man, Hector. You're a Captain, a King."
" I'm lost,Jack." Barbossa's eyes were dim. " Even if there was a compass on this earth could guide me, I know it would lead me to her. And then what, Jack? What is there livin' fer then?"
" For the memories, mate. For the life you've led, the people you've affected. You've affected me." He extended his wrist, upon which was the "P" brand. " Beckett couldn't wait to find me after you turned me loose."
" Are we speakin' of the first time?"
" Aye, we are." Jack waggled his eyebrows. " Where would I be without you?"
Elizabeth whispered, " What would the world be like without Captain Barbossa?"
Barbossa thinned his lips. " I'm not changin' me mind, Jack. There's no turnin' back. No quarter."
" You don't deserve this. Davy doesn't deserve this. Neither of you did anything wrong. Love is not a crime," Jack said loudly, gripping Barbossa's wrist.
Barbossa wrenched it free. " Don't hold me to this, Jack. Don't hold me to ye. The two o' ye are the only things keeping' me two feet on land."
" Can't say the same for Davy, can we?" Jack murmured. There was no humor in his voice, no smile.
" Please, Jack. Try ter understand." Barbossa swallowed hard. " If ye knew the men we'd once been, ye would see why this means as much as it does…do ye not think I've wanted a life of solitude, free of pain and torment? Sure as day I can be a hellish Captain, but come nightfall I'm as lonely and troubled as the next lot of men upon the sea. Ye need ter find something worth livin' fer, Jack, something worth dyin fer. Only then is yer time upon the sea worth remembrance."
Jack looked back at Elizabeth, who was covered in cream-colored sheets, but whose face protruded, her eyes closed.
" Ye've found yers, Jack. Let an old Captain find his." Barbossa clasped Jack's hand.
" If you need anything…" Jack started.
" This isn't good-bye, Jack," Barbossa said calmly. " Besides, I can find ye sure as I can find the North Star." He circled around to kneel beside Elizabeth. Holding her hand, and sighing as she opened her eyes slowly, he kissed it. " Thank ye, Mrs. Sparrow, for all Ye've done fer me and my fine crew. And fer this lad." He nodded to Jack. " 'Twill be some time afore I see ye again. Stay in good health."
Elizabeth nodded, smiling sleepily. " Be safe, Captain. Take what you can…" She yawned. " Give nothing back."
Barbossa patted her hand, then let it go. Donning his black plumed hat, he turned to leave. Stepping out onto the island's sands, outside of Pierre's door, he felt a fresh wind blow.
Jack and Pierre stood in the doorway, framed by the rising sun. " May Castor and Pollux guide you on your journey, Hector Barbossa!" Pierre called.
Barbossa tipped his hat as Elizabeth arrived behind Jack, wrapping her arms around his waist and leaning her head on his shoulder. She blew Barbossa a kiss.
He smiled, though to some it may not have been a smile.
Jack called as Barbossa retreated further into the dense Caribbean forest, " Let no foul wind guide you astray, Captain!"
Taking a deep breath, Barbossa walked down to the shoreline, where his boat was anchored and moored. His crew stood waiting obediently. He stepped into the rising sun, a visage of black.
It was time to set them free.
And it was time for him to cast off his own chains.
Thank you all so much for reading, and for the continued encouragement and extremely positive reviews! I'm afraid this is the end for this fic, but there's much more Barbossa to come in my next fic, " Into the Rising Sun", in which Barbossa searches for a way to bring Noelle back and to avenge her death. Also, credit goes to JM Barrie and the writers of "Hook" for the basis for the line Elizabeth says above ("What would the world be like without Captain Barbossa/Hook?").