𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 ─── jack sparrow

𝟕. Better Fortunes

THERE HAD BEEN a time in Marion's youth where she had been taken aback by the fashion in Port Royal.

Lady Taylor had wanted to take her to the seamstress as a treat, after having written her first story. It had been a childish thing that spoke of princesses and rose gardens, but the widow had been ever so proud when Marion had showed her.

So they took the carriage downtown and the young girl was filled with excitement at the promise of being able to choose whatever fabrics and ribbons she liked. It had still felt strange to her, having such luxuries at her fingertips. She didn't need to nibble at her meals to savour each bite, nor did she have to make that dreary morning trip down to the well. Everything could be brought to her at the ring of a bell.

And yet sometimes she missed the routine of the past. Her parents were not able to afford two separate beds, so her and Philip would have to squish into one cot. His snores had irritated her to no ends. But now, when she woke in the middle of a cold night, Marion knew she would give up every silk sheet to once again have the comfort of her brother by her side. She often found herself wondering if, somewhere in the world, he was thinking about her too.

She had so much to tell him. Everything about the bustling port city, the gardens, the fancy manor on the hill in which she lived. But as she grew older, Marion began to realise it was unlikely that she'd ever see her brother again. So she wrote it all down. Every detail, every piece of her life that he was missing, and hoped that one day he might discover these letters and know that she was content.

Hand in hand, Lady Taylor led her down the street, smiling fondly as Marion took in the pretty women with their parasols and the stern-faced gentlemen heading into work. They were all wearing wigs and, at first, she had found it rather silly. Her father had never worn one. She'd wondered what they were hiding and had asked her guardian as much.

"My dear child, it is not so much what they're hiding, but what they are showing," she'd replied, eager to bestow any knowledge of society onto the young girl. "It is fashion and status, and nothing is more important than that."

Marion had nodded, accepting the answer. What she had found later on, however, was that people who wore wigs often kept secrets. Honest men did not need to hide what was going on in their head. They bore it all for everyone to see.

The exception had been James Norrington.

And now, the exception was Jack Sparrow. There was no denying he was a scoundrel and he hadn't a wig in sight.

For a long time, Marion had believed that all humans were inherently good. She hadn't any reason to believe differently. Back in Port Royal, it hardly mattered if she took a stroll down to the dockyards alone. No one would've put her in a compromising situation. People simply weren't like that. At least, that's what she'd thought until those pirates had attacked the city. They'd exhibited no kindness, not even a shred of compassion, and Marion had then decided that perhaps humans were corrupt creatures, after all.

Now, as she walked down the disorderly streets of Tortuga, Marion couldn't help but think how true that sentiment had been. She felt vulnerable, moving through these crowds of strangers, most of which should've been locked up long ago for their crimes. When she'd arrived, though nervous as to how the deal would play out, she hadn't felt powerless.

Not like she did now.

Perhaps Sykes had laid her bare in more than just one way. He had further revealed to her the wicked nature of men and just how helpless she was in their presence. Marion had never considered herself weak, but she was beginning to doubt whether she'd been right.

"Turns out you're only a coward..."

Had she been wrong to let him live? After all the sins he'd committed against her? Somehow, despite the rage that still pricked at her skin like tiny needles, Marion couldn't find it within herself to regret the decision. He was a slimy lecher, there was no argument against that, but killing him for it? She supposed men had died for being less, but that didn't make it right.