𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 ─── jack sparrow

𝟏𝟐. Swords Crossed

A SOFT BREEZE blew across her face. Now that they had put the Isla de Muerta to their rudder, whatever pall that had been cast over them had since vanished and Marion found that she could once again breathe more easily. The noon sun warmed her skin. The skies were clear and the seas were blue again, not that dreadful grey. How she longed never to see such a colour again.

Marion moved across the deck, passing Cotton, who was feeding his parrot bits of stale cracker, and Gibbs, who was, as always, emptying his flask of rum. She came to a standstill near the bow and stared out into the bright horizon. Her fingers were picking at a fraying thread on her brown coat. It was far too big for her. Anamaria was slim, but tall and muscular as well. It was not tailored for the likes of a slight noblewoman.

At least she wasn't still wearing that dress. Even if she were to look past how filthy it'd become, Marion felt odd wearing it out here. It belonged to a woman of the past and that woman had no place on a pirate ship. Though, she supposed, Elizabeth wore a dress also, but it did not appear to be of London fashion.

She and Will had disappeared below deck upon their arrival. None of the crew had followed, and wisely so. She knew they needed a moment to themselves. However, it didn't make her feel any less lonely. A selfish part of her felt as if she had only been a placeholder for Elizabeth this whole time, and now that Will had gotten her back, Marion was no longer at the forefront of his mind.

As long as I linger somewhere.

They were friends, after all. Perhaps, at some point during their venture, Marion had hoped for something more. Foolish girl that she was. Will had told her from the beginning that he was in love with Miss Swann and Marion had insisted she had no interest in stealing him away. It had been the truth, of course, but feelings could change. She'd thought that maybe she was not the only one to note a difference in their relationship, but clearly she'd been mistaken. Goodness, she read too many romance novels. Was kindness such an abnormality that she confused it with romantic interest? Her doing so seemed to be a pattern of late. First with Norrington on the battlements, and now with Will.

Oh, how her head hurt.

Marion had chugged down a bottle of water as soon as she'd returned. And yet still, her migraine persisted.

Gibbs had been the one to help her aboard, asking where Jack was as he did. Will and Elizabeth had stared at her expectantly. She didn't know what to say. She tried to tell them how he'd saved her, but no words would come out, so she simply shook her head. Gibbs, though curious, had nodded and muttered something about "keeping to the code" and that was that. Marion had wanted to inquire after Will's ankle, but when she turned around, he was already gone.

Thus, here she was, resting her elbows on the gunwale and daring to wonder if this madness was truly over and she was going home. The Asclepius Leaves were still tucked safely away in her satchel below deck. If all went according to plan, then soon Marion would be back at the manor, eating breakfast with Lady Taylor and little Jane without a care in the world. Even the prospect of James' marriage would not dull her spirits.

But things didn't often go to plan, did they?

Marion did not react when she felt a presence at her side. She just kept losing herself in the lull of the waves, dreaming of a future that might not come to pass.

Anamaria was silent for a long time before admitting, "You've got more nerve than I thought, girl. I'll give you that much."

Marion didn't usually hold grudges against people. She was the first to forgive after an argument with Lady Taylor, knowing the old widow certainly would not be. Yet she couldn't quite look past the smuggler's lack of assistance earlier. That being so, she remained silent.