The Devil's Temptress: The Curse of the Black Pearl || Jack Sparrow

I. The Medallion Calls

1728

Th call had come from the crows nest near sundown. Land.

She had been resting on top of the worn blankets In her cabin when the wind had changed, the crack of the sails in a new forgotten wind had made her stand to attention and run to the helm. It had only been hours ago but it felt like days: time stood still out and the sun dragged across the sky at an unforgivable pace. Then finally, Land.

It didn't look like much. From their charts, Nicolette had placed them somewhere along the south coast of Jamaica. Small lanterns twinkled, illuminating a fort, Nicolette deemed, unimpressive. The walls were lacking in height, it stretched no more than a couple of hundred yards; the only impressive thing to look at was the light on the cliff tops, where the town bells hung between an underwhelming archway. All that was pretty was the natural beauty of the Caribbean: the luscious green mountains, the jagged ancient cliffs, the bay, so smooth, it looked like an artist had carved it out of the land himself.

As they had approached, the starry sky had clouded over and the air turned thick at the wind blew north. They brought the fog with them, of course, and the mist was starting to crawl over the shallows and creep into the outskirts of town.

"Soon as this curse is lifted, it's Tortuga for me..." Nicolette's peace was interrupted. Her brow wrinkled as she turned to peer over her shoulder, her hands twitching before her arms uncrossed and fell down at her sides with a long sigh.

"I'm going to drink a whole barrel of ale. And buy every wench in the whole tavern...twice." Her eyes rolled back in her head and she inwardly groaned as the blurred figures of Pintel and Ragetti stumbled past in her peripheral vision. They each carried an oar for the longboats, the paddle end dragging along the deck behind them with a anxiety inducing squeal.

"How about focusing on getting us that medallion first?" Nikki snarled, her voice low and slow. If anyone were to describe, they would she talked as if she weren't in a hurry and so neither were you. It startled them both, they jumped and stiffened like frightened goats, all that was missing was the girlish scream.

"Ah, Mrs Barbossa." Scratch that, they were exactly like goats.

Nicolette turned around and casually leant back against the side of the Pearl with her arms spread out wide.

"Sorry Miss-Mrs Barbossa..." After ten years, you would think they'd at least get the little details right. "We were just trying to keep spirits high is all." Of course they were, poor simple souls. Her eyes watched them so sharply, her pupils dilated into snake like slithers, one emerald, one white.

They were the crew's biggest liability, and the crew as a whole were a liability. She couldn't trust them to find bread in a bakers shop.

"Save it for when you succeed. Now get back to work." She turned with a hiss to compliment her eyes, and turned back towards the ocean as they scuttled away. "Idiots."

Silence returned, her breathing slowed, and even when Jack dropped from the rigging and landed on her shoulder Nikki didn't stir. Her gaze didn't turn away from the growing lights, but she hummed and a delicious smile stretched across her lips as the Capuchin clicked in her ear.

"Sweet boy." He gave a sharp screech, deafening her right ear, and slammed his tiny hands onto her head. "Jack." It was quite the dramatic reaction, and it caused Nicolette to extend her arm to allow Jack to walk down and sit on the railing in front of her. He was just like a child with a bedtime routine. She knew what he wanted, so she produced a grape from her pocket and held it out to him. "That's a good boy."

The door to the Captains cabin was ripped open and slammed closed again behind her; she didn't need to look to know it was her husband. Pursing her lips, Nicolette narrowed her eyes; "And there's daddy." She muttered then stopped, straightening her back as she questioned her own words with a cringe...too much sun...too many years. Far too many years.