Pirates of the Caribbean: Fate Intervenes

Making Way

 My fingers slinked their way through the chest, gold chains and gems rippling between them and sinking back to their original, gleaming bed. Glinting about their facets was the twinkling glow of the orange lamplight, swaying with the calming croak of the Black Pearl.

"So many adventures behind this bounty." I admired, my legs folded together beside me.

"Aye," Jack Sparrow tossed his chin over his shoulder, turning away from me once again and towards the steaming water he was pouring into delicate teacups, blowing his coal fire out swiftly with his lips. "What times those were, eh?"

Taking out a stone mortar and pestle set from the small trunk at his feet, I could hear the rattle of coffee beans leaving their sack and scurrying inside before the knocking of his grinding. I watched as his blackened fingers worked like second nature.

"Where did you learn of all this?"

"Coffee beans are a bit of a delicacy among the Pelegostos. My mother used to tell me of wives tales and feed them to me like candy! You know, drinking it like this is very big with the French?" He held an inquisitive finger up before shaking some of the powder he'd just created into each cup before stirring.

He glanced behind himself to watch me staring in awe.

"What? I'm not just a rum pot. Don't you know I have some culture?"

"I'm just now gathering that, yes."

He scoffed, wiping his hands on his billowing white shirt and picking up the tray.

"Let's go, alright?" Drawing his sword, he used the tip of it to push against the trapdoor and flip it open. Short bursts of laughter sprung from my lips, seeing the infamous and ever-so prideful Captain Jack Sparrow now acting as a chambermaid.

As he looked up towards the light of the room, I stood, grasping my stomach and sucking in some air. My mood was instantly changed.

"Jack... Do you really think I should tell the story?"

"I'm sorry, I must be confused." He waved a hand before pausing, calculating what I just said by a flipping finger. "Isn't that... what I just made the coffee for, mate?"

I rolled my eyes. "The whole story? The childhood, the happiness, the trauma... all of it?"

He shrugged, balancing the tray against the base of his palm and using the other to grip the rungs of the ladder. "Do you have something better to do?"

My dreading stomach churned into a slight burst of aggravation before I swept myself across the floor behind him and reluctantly followed. Apparently, he couldn't think of a reason to spare me from this.

"Oh, alright. But I hate you, savvy?"

"Oh, I savvy, lovely. But I must point out that all evidence is to the contrary."

Scoffing and hissing his name before reaching up and whacking his leg, I watched his head pop up and greet our former Pirate King with the utmost clueless class.

"M'lady, you'll be needing this. It's a long story and a late night."

I froze in my boots just two rungs from the top. I didn't want to go up there.

My ear pricked as I heard Jack brush across the room and set down the tray, taking a gurgling sip of his cup of coffee.

"Miss Stafford, if you'd be so kind, I think we'd all like to weigh anchor, as it were."

He said it so flippantly. Did he not understand what a big ordeal this was to me?

Before I could growl and refuse, I pushed myself through the entrance and found my stance quite awkwardly facing towards my audience. She bowed her head with grace upon seeing me, not even fazed by the absence of my usual charm.

I gulped. "Do you really want to hear this?"

"Relax, Olivia. You're my friend, aren't you?" She pulled out a small book, and I noted that it was blank upon her opening it. Lifting herself from the divan for an instant to snatch Jack's plume and inkpot, she rested herself slowly once again amongst the layers of frills.

"You've had a lifetime of stories that have never been told. And the ones you were at liberty to tell didn't line up with the same skin you were born in. Your identities collided, Olivia, and someone needs to hear your story. Stories live on, but memories do not. So please, begin."

I released breath for the first time since I'd entered, blowing out the tension in my chest and allowing myself to awkwardly slip into a seat.

"What all do you want to hear?"

"Olivia," She folded her hands, knocking her head to the side and a loose streamer of a curl whisking across her cheekbone. "Just begin. Tell me everything that feels important. I want to hear your history."
I leaned back, resting my boots on the desk again.

"Everything important, eh?"

I eyed Jack on the other side of the desk, where he furrowed his brow and gulped some more of his coffee. I picked up my cup, resting it against my stomach and clasping it with my thumbs.

"As you wish, madam."

"Should I leave and give you lovelies some--"

I reached across the counter and grabbed his wrist, yanking him towards his seat again.

"You're not going anywhere, Jack."

He grinned and chuckled nervously, holding his hands up.

"Alright, alright, I suppose it's settled then." His eyes darted.

Elizabeth had asked me of my past, and I had agreed to tell the tale.  The two of them thought it no more than that. 

However, I had a feeling that this would become more than a conversation. I'd always been aware of what incidents would reveal themselves had I ever chosen to claim my true identity as my own, and I'd never been willing to do so. However, it was too late and I was too prideful to back out now.

Suck it up, Stafford. You're a pirate.

And with that, the storytelling began.