Lady of the Sea

Ch 32

With Barbossa at the helm of the Pearl, Jack made his return to Singapore in about a week. The journey was marked by an unusual silence from the usually talkative captain. Jack's thoughts were consumed by Marina, and he found himself constantly wondering if she had woken up. Maybe she and Tia were already en route to Singapore, ready to meet him at the docks. The uncertainty gnawed at him, and it irritated him more than he cared to admit.

The last time Jack and Marina had spoken, it had ended in the biggest argument they'd ever had. Heated words, hurtful accusations, and then, without warning, they had made love. A rough, desperate collision of emotions. That night had left Jack torn between anger and something else—something far more confusing. He wasn't sure if it was love, lust, or some mix of both.

And now, she was gone—taken by circumstances beyond his control. He had wanted to go back to her, to confront her, to see what she felt, if anything. But that wasn't possible anymore.

Did Marina even feel anything for him? Was that night just a fleeting moment, a reckless mistake in the heat of the moment? Or had there been something more? Jack didn't know what he felt either. He hated how uncertain it all was, how much control he'd lost over the situation. He didn't like thinking about what he couldn't change. But with Marina...things were different.

He glanced over at Barbossa, whose stern face gave nothing away. If Barbossa was worried about Marina, he didn't show it. But then again, Barbossa never showed his cards, did he? Jack couldn't help but wonder what Marina meant to Barbossa too. There was something unspoken between them, something Jack couldn't quite figure out.

With a heavy sigh, Jack leaned back, gazing out over the sea. The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. The woman had gotten under his skin, and now, he couldn't get her out of his mind.

By the time the Pearl arrived at Singapore, night had already draped the city in its shadowy embrace. The port was quiet, the sounds of distant waves the only noise accompanying their arrival. Jack's crew made their way to the meeting with the other pirates to discuss their next move. Fortifying Singapore seemed to be the best plan.

Jack slipped away from the others. The cool night air hit his face as he stepped onto the pier, the vast sea stretching out before him. The water's dark surface shimmered under the moonlight, but it offered no answers to the questions swirling in his mind. He found himself staring at the horizon, hoping for something he couldn't quite name.

The night was quiet, the sounds of the city muffled by the lapping of the waves against the ships. His thoughts were a storm, swirling around Marina and the uncertainty that plagued him. The moonlight danced on the water, but all Jack could see was her face—the pale skin, the dark hair, the determination in her eyes.

His father approached with a slow, measured stride. The elder Sparrow, clad in his usual worn attire, looked at his son with an unreadable expression. He could sense the tension, the conflict within Jack, and it wasn't difficult to guess the source.

"Ye've got that look in yer eye, son," Teague began, his voice low and rough like the creak of an old ship. "The one ye get when somethin's gnawin' at ye from the inside out."

Jack didn't turn to face him, his gaze remaining fixed on the horizon. "It's nothing," he muttered, though he knew better than to think he could deceive his father.

Teague raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Nothin', eh? The crew mentioned ye were quiet all through the journey back. That's not like ye, Jack."

Jack sighed, running a hand through his hair, still unwilling to meet his father's gaze. "I owe her, Dad. More than I can ever repay."

Teague tilted his head, studying his son. "The girl, then. Marina."

Jack nodded, his expression troubled. "Aye, her. She's saved my life more times than I care to count, without a second thought."

Teague's eyes softened, a rare thing for the old pirate. He leaned on the railing beside Jack, looking out at the sea with him. "People like her, Jack—they're different. They see the world through a different lens, see somethin' worth savin' in people even when those people don't see it in themselves."

Jack finally turned to look at his father, his eyes shadowed with doubt. "Our last conversation... it wasn't pretty, Dad. We had a real bad argument. She tore into me, said things... made it clear she doesn't see anything in me worth saving. I doubt she ever did."

Teague's brow furrowed, a mixture of understanding and mild amusement flickering across his weathered face. "Aye, arguments have a way of bringin' out the worst in us, don't they? But just 'cause she said those things in the heat of the moment doesn't mean that's all there is."

Jack scoffed, leaning against the railing, his gaze distant. "It felt real enough. She's got no reason to stick around anymore. Hell, I wouldn't blame her if she left and never looked back."

Teague gave a small shrug, his voice gruff but honest. "Then ye make it right, if ye care enough. Don't let pride or fear be what drives her off for good. She ain't gone yet, Jack. That means there's still a chance."

Jack fell silent, his thoughts swirling once again. He had always prided himself on being unpredictable, on keeping others at arm's length, yet Marina had never hesitated. She had seen him for what he was, flaws and all, and still chose to save him. It unnerved him, made him question everything he thought he knew.

"I don't even know if she's alive," Jack admitted, his voice quieter now, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "But I can't stop thinkin' about her."

Teague placed a hand on his son's shoulder, his grip firm. "Then don't waste yer time wonderin' why she did what she did. Focus on what ye can do now."

Jack nodded slowly, his father's words sinking in. There was no point in trying to make sense of Marina's actions. All he could do was be ready, to make sure her sacrifice wasn't in vain. As Teague walked away, Jack remained by the water, the night air cool against his skin. He wasn't sure what the future held, but one thing was clear—he couldn't let Marina's bravery be for nothing. Whatever was coming, he would face it head-on, just as she had done time and time again.

Jack looked up at the sky, the stars stretching out in a brilliant tapestry of twinkling lights. The night was clear, unmarred by clouds, offering a perfect view of the cosmos. For a moment, he let his gaze wander among the constellations, lost in the serene beauty of the night sky. The stars seemed to whisper secrets of the universe, and a pang of longing shot through him.

He thought of Marina, how she had always found solace in the stars. She would lay on the deck of the Wicked Wench, her eyes scanning the heavens as if searching for answers among the constellations. Jack found himself wishing she could see this night, this perfect canvas of stars. It seemed almost cruel that she might miss it, lying in a bed somewhere, fighting for her life. The idea gnawed at him, filling him with a sense of regret and urgency.