2 x 100 words, rated PG.
Gibbs’ voice cracks. “Row for land.”
But Elizabeth cannot turn around, cannot take her eyes from the foaming sea.
Is he dead yet? How long does it take to drown?
Behind her, someone stifles a whimper. She thinks it’s Ragetti. Strange, that such a man should feel so much grief. He’s just a pirate after all, no more than a cutthroat and a thief, a black-hearted murderer.
A good man.
Dark shadows flit beneath them, massive and terrible. They ride the swell and then it is gone – the Kraken, about its terrible business again, dragging Jack Sparrow to his doom.
She likes to watch him on peaceful mornings, when the sun first crests the horizon and sends white gold flitting through the cabin’s broad windows.
He surfaces slowly when circumstances permit, stretching catlike in the morning light. Dawn paints him at his most beautiful, slender as a boy but marked by tide and ink; the night’s tempest leaves him storm-tossed, raven hair spilling over features so delicate the midday sun will swamp them with its brazen glare.
When he opens his eyes they are bright and warm, his smile for her alone. In those quiet moments, she knows him best.
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