𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 ─── jack sparrow

𝟏𝟒. Enflame and Ignite

"I had to," said Marion, not too keen on saying any more to the pirate than what was necessary. By all means, he'd already forgotten what had transpired between them, and she was hardly inclined to remind him. "You refused to be of assistance and so I took liberties with your precious drink. But it matters not. I'm sure you can glut to your heart's content when the Royal Navy arrives in a few hours."

"You—you burned up the island, for a one-time chance at being spotted?!" His voice was strained, as if stopping himself from doing something rash.

"What would you've had me done, Mr. Sparrow?" She wiped her soot-covered hands on her pants. Her corset was almost grey with ash. "Waste away my hours with the likes of you? No, I think not."

He stared at her, moustache twitching. "But why is the rum gone?"

"I would've thought you'd had enough of it after last night."

The moment the words left her lips, she regretted them. What on earth had possessed her to mention said evening after she'd been so determined to be done with it?

"One can never have enough rum, love."

At least he seemed blissfully unaware.

Marion gritted her teeth and turned away from him, heading back down to the beach. Perhaps the unpolluted air would grant her some peace. Behind her, Jack tried to reach into the flames for a bottle when it exploded. He pulled his hand back with a scowl, then scurried after her.

"Hold on, love—"

She spun on him, shoving her finger into his face. "Don't call me that!"

"Ye didn't seem to mind it that much last night."

Oh, so he did remember. That presented a few complications that she would've otherwise been exempt from. She couldn't have him shooting off at the mouth when the navy turned up. There would be rumour enough without his encouragement.

"Never will we speak on what happened," she demanded. "Am I understood?"

Jack doubled over in a mock bow. "As ye wish, yer highny."

Marion ignored him and stared out into the horizon, praying for those white sails to appear. The entire Royal Navy was out looking for Elizabeth and, since she hadn't yet returned to Port Royal, Heather would've no doubt informed them of her own disappearance, too. She wondered what James would think when he found out about her excursion to Tortuga. Other than mortification, that is.

Seeing that it had grown oddly quiet, Marion suspected Jack had stormed off somewhere to sulk, but when she went to check on the signal, he was still standing behind her. He seemed to have somewhat curbed his indignation and was now watching her with mild annoyance.

"Is there a problem between us, Miss Swift?"

Marion pressed her lips together, not in the mood for this conversation. She kept staring out into the glistening waters, wishing that he'd just give up and leave her alone.

"Ah, I see there is," he said, taking her silence as an answer. "Might I presume this has something to do with our drunken tryst?"

Did he truly just—

"We did not have a tryst!"

"What would ye call yer hands all over me, then?"

Frustrated, she got to her feet and rounded on him. "An embarrassment!"

He wavered at that.

If she didn't know better, she would've thought it was hurt that flashed in his eyes. But why would he feel such a thing, unless it was a matter of pride? He was a pirate and, to him, she was just another woman. Gods, she was pathetic. She wanted to pull out her hair and kick everything in sight—not that that would've left her with much more than a bruised scalp and sore foot.