Double Drabble: Night Watch
Aug. 28th, 2005 01:23 pmBy Honorat
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Thus far no one has given me POTC for a birthday present, but I haven’t given up hoping.
Summary: Jack and Anamaria. Set shortly after Jack’s last-minute rescue from Fort Charles. Angst alert. I’m not sure about this one, but here goes. For the “Narrow Escapes” challenge at Black Pearl Sails.
* * * * *
Tonight her luck is in. She finds her captain in the moonlight-cast shadows, curled up on a coil of rope at the base of the bowsprit. He was not here the last night exhaustion drove him to sleep.
Every night on her watch, she searches for him. In the event of storm clouds or strange sails looming on the horizon, she likes to know where he is, although he has always appeared before she has had a chance to call. Only rarely does she find him—never in the same place twice. He knows this ship better than any of them. And she has never found him in the luxurious bed of the captain’s cabin.
As always he sleeps with one hand on his ship, the other on the hilt of his sword.
She wonders what ghosts haunt the bulkheads of this ship—pale stains of past betrayal—that make him unwilling to be predictable.
The knotted strands of hair that she doesn’t dare brush aside from his face almost cover the fading traces of rope burns on his neck. She shudders at how narrowly she has escaped becoming his final betrayer.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Thus far no one has given me POTC for a birthday present, but I haven’t given up hoping.
Summary: Jack and Anamaria. Set shortly after Jack’s last-minute rescue from Fort Charles. Angst alert. I’m not sure about this one, but here goes. For the “Narrow Escapes” challenge at Black Pearl Sails.
* * * * *
Tonight her luck is in. She finds her captain in the moonlight-cast shadows, curled up on a coil of rope at the base of the bowsprit. He was not here the last night exhaustion drove him to sleep.
Every night on her watch, she searches for him. In the event of storm clouds or strange sails looming on the horizon, she likes to know where he is, although he has always appeared before she has had a chance to call. Only rarely does she find him—never in the same place twice. He knows this ship better than any of them. And she has never found him in the luxurious bed of the captain’s cabin.
As always he sleeps with one hand on his ship, the other on the hilt of his sword.
She wonders what ghosts haunt the bulkheads of this ship—pale stains of past betrayal—that make him unwilling to be predictable.
The knotted strands of hair that she doesn’t dare brush aside from his face almost cover the fading traces of rope burns on his neck. She shudders at how narrowly she has escaped becoming his final betrayer.
no subject
Date: 2005-08-28 08:56 pm (UTC)