Pirate, Extraordinaire // Sequel to Take Off Your Dress, Pick Up A Sword

a sandcastle

The departure from Tia Dalma's dwelling would have been of absolute, steely silence, but the soothsayer seized Joanna's elbow just as her foot touched the doorframe.

Joanna eyed Tia warily, her mind burdened by black spots and enigmatic captains.

Tia smirked, quicksilver, and released her arm. "Mayhaps destiny is contagious, hm?"

An invaluable, terrifying contact, Joanna evaluated Tia Dalma. She departed the witch's lair as quickly as possible, hands shaking.

...

Joanna forcibly inserted herself at Jack's side, replacing the handy jar of dirt. Kindly, Marty and Cotton pretended she was not pressed snuggly between Jack's side and the boat, whispering urgently and gripping his marked hand between her own.

"Jack," she murmured, turning his palm over and running the pads of her fingers over his callouses. Her gaze was drawn to the inexorable spot. Rather than appearing as a dark blemish, it was as if an isolated circle in Jack's hand had decomposed. Mushy and tinged with vile green, it even smelled -- uncovered and so close to Joanna's face, she detected the pungent, ripe smell of death. "How did this happen?"

Jack allowed her ministrations passively. Bereft of his secrets, he was calm and resigned. "'S a long story."

With gentle determination, Joanna bestowed a kiss to the unlikely injury. Satisfied with Jack's wellbeing, she released his hand. "Why --" she began, halted, and remained silent.

Jack didn't press her, dedicating his focus to rewrapping the black spot. The monotonous sounds of rowing substituted Joanna's aborted accusation.

Why didn't you tell your crew? Joanna bit her tongue, well-aware of the answer. The admission could have cost Jack what was most important to him -- his adored ship. Keeping company with a member of Davy Jones' hit list was far from wise and the crew would have jousted him upon realizing.

Joanna abandoned logic and admitted her underlying, aching emotion -- hurt. That Jack had not trusted her, specifically, with something so vital. He had lied deliberately when given the opportunity to offer the truth.

Would I have told me, in his position? Joanna wondered. She wasn't sure. Jack wasn't like Will, who Joanna would trust with any secret -- Jack was out for his own self at all moments, at all costs, and Joanna didn't pretend to forget that. She knew and chose to call him a friend anyway.

Breathing deeply, Joanna began anew. "He's real."

"As real as you and me, darling." Jack bit his lip, struggling to tie a knot with one hand.

"Here, let me." Jack gave his hand to her without protest, thanking her tacitly. "Does he really -- will he really send a giant squid after you, Jack?"

Jack's mouth twitched beneath his mustache. "Dunno. Never done this before, y'see."

Joanna tugged the knot into place. She kept hold of his hand, suddenly desperate for any sort of anchor. "D'you think they'll mutiny?" She asked very quietly. Jack had, with explicit knowledge, put his men into profound danger.

Jack's eyes flickered with old fear. He glanced over his shoulder, quickly tallying what men he had left. "No," he replied, but the line of his mouth wavered. "No. You, Gibbs, Will, Cotton, Lejon, I can count on -- were I a cowhearted mutineer, I wouldn't test those odds."

Joanna nodded, finding her own calculations in line with her captain's. Her thoughts twisted into tangles -- Joanna plucked one, at a random, and quizzed Jack. "You've never told me how, exactly, you know Tia Dalma."