Chancing Fate - Jack Sparrow x OC

Part 3 - Chapter 8

A/N: Updated

Each wave rolling beneath the Pearl set the deck into a slow, familiar sway beneath Lena's feet as she stood at the rail, her fingers curled around the weathered wood while the endless stretch of ocean slipped past. Ordinarily the steady rhythm would have eased the restless energy from her limbs. Today the tension lingering in her shoulders refused to loosen, no matter how gently the ship rocked beneath her.

Every so often a raised voice drifted across the deck from the men crowded around the chart table, each clipped remark carried on the wind just clearly enough to remind her they were still arguing.

The fresh water barrels were running low. The galley stores had been stretched farther than anyone would have liked, and even the Pearl still bore the scars of everything they had endured. They needed supplies, repairs, and a plan before they could afford another fight. Instead, every suggestion seemed to end with another disagreement, another pistol nearly drawn between people who had only just escaped the Locker together.

The whole group was insufferable.

She let her gaze drift across the deck toward the gathering around the chart. Barbossa scarcely looked away from the map whenever the Court was mentioned. Will listened with an intensity that never seemed to falter whenever his father entered the discussion. Even Elizabeth appeared to know more than she was saying. Every conversation left Lena with the same uneasy feeling that someone was withholding another piece of the truth.

Whether Jack wanted it or not, the Brethren Court seemed inevitable. Too many people aboard were already steering every discussion in that direction, each argument nudging him closer to a destination she wasn't convinced he would have chosen for himself. If he went, so would she. She had spent too many months arriving too late, learning too late, losing him while she could do nothing but watch events unfold from somewhere else. Whether her presence changed anything hardly mattered anymore; she refused to be left behind again.

Her eyes found Jack without conscious thought.

Strange, considering everything she had once believed about pirates, yet he remained the one person aboard whose word she trusted most. He frustrated her endlessly, concealed information whenever it suited him, and possessed an unmatched talent for omitting precisely the detail she wanted to know. Even so, when everything else had fallen apart, he had still found his way back to her.

Footsteps crossed the deck behind her before stopping beside the rail. She glanced over just as Jack rested his forearms against the weathered wood, the faintly unimpressed look tugging at the corner of his mouth suggesting someone had proposed an idea he had no intention of agreeing with.

"We'll be stopping soon for supplies and water," Jack said, letting his gaze settle over the ocean beside hers. "And while I'm on shore, I need you to keep an eye on me ship."

Lena turned toward him, one eyebrow lifting. "You don't want me to help?"

"Not when the whelp'll be watching the Pearl. I trust her in your hands far more than his."

A quiet laugh escaped before she could stop it, though it was obvious he wasn't joking. "I'm flattered you trust me with her. Care to tell me what else you're planning? Besides gathering supplies."

Jack turned just enough to face her, a familiar smirk settling into place. "I'll be sure to let you know when I know, love."

She held his gaze for another moment before quietly exhaling. "Just... try not to spring too many surprises on me, please?"

For the briefest instant, the grin softened. "I'll try my best."

Some of the tightness in her shoulders eased before she even realized she'd relaxed.