Sometimes, at night, before I fall asleep, there is a part of my mind that tells me stories. All right, to be honest, it's most of the time. And it has been so for as long as I can remember. My stories, told to myself - and yet it almost feels like someone else is doing the telling. Lately, the stories have quite often concerned a certain pirate and a certain Commodore - not that I complain. Most of the time, I just curl up and listen, so to speak, and the stories will come, sometimes slowly, bit by bit, sometimes complete before the first word is shaped. Sometimes I try to cling to one bit or other, to carry it with me through sleep, so I can use it at a later time, if it still seems as right as it did just before sleep took me. And sometimes - very rarely - I get up and get my glasses and a pen and some paper and I write down what I am told. Last night was one of those times.
Perhaps
by Oneiriad
Disclaimer: Potc are not mine. Jack is not mine. James is not mine.
James fell in love with Jack.
It’s an old story, really, told many times before. In many ways, this time was no more remarkable than any of the others.
Perhaps it had started on the docks – with a handshake and a leer and a look and a chase. Perhaps.
Perhaps it had started at the fort – high and mighty Fort Charles – with brief words, and kohl-rimmed eyes gazing into broken-hearted ones. Perhaps.
Perhaps it started with the Act of Grace, given by the Governor after much daughterly pressure – forcing Commodore to deal with pirate – sorry, to deal with privateer Captain on a regular basis. Perhaps.
Or perhaps it even started with the dinner invitation, and it was hard to tell whether the inviter was more surprised than the invited at it happening or vice versa. But Jack went and ate cherry pie and drank brandy at a naval man’s table. Laughter echoed in the night. So, perhaps.
It had been slow at first – both had tasted hurt before, both were cautious. Still, there were other dinners, and meetings at taverns and at inns. Once they even went to see a travelling troupe of actors – Jack made catcalls and threw nuts at the poor people, while James rolled his eyes at his antics.
Slow at first, yes, but something took root. Something grew. Something set a bud.
In the Commodore’s bed they met – for James thought Jack might derive some small pleasure from that location, and he wished to give it to him. Jack stroked and kissed and licked and sucked and swallowed, but when James – fair man that he was – tried to repay the favour, Jack suddenly stiffened, froze, and then batted his hands away. Then he left, leaving behind a spent and confused and hurt man.
Jack went back to his ship and his cabin. He stood before a large mirror and removed the clothes he had hastily thrown back on. He studied himself, fingers travelling over tanned skin.
He found the sores. One-two-three, he counted. Three too many. Far too many.
Alone in his cabin, he thought of white skin, smooth and unblemished. He imagined sores on that skin. He imagined ravings in that crisp voice. Tears stung his eyes. He could not bear those thoughts.
And so he would not have it.
Three days later black sails caught a morning breeze, carrying a ship out to sea. Rumour had it they were going far away – some said to Singapore, some said to Madagascar, some said they were going after the very Manila Galleon. The only thing the rumours all agreed on was that they were not coming back any time soon, if ever.
High above, at a place where it might have started, James stood, a sash left behind by a too-hasty departure wound and wound and wound again in his hands. Alone and lost, he looked at the black sails until they vanished below the horizon.
Perhaps one day he would receive a letter – explaining, apologizing, asking for forgiveness for that single, terrible act of piracy that a certain scoundrel had not found it within himself to commit.
Perhaps…
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Yes, I hope I will get around to writing some more of those stories down, too. Alas, you don't always get what you hope for. But I'll try.
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...
Meep!
Okay, time for an attempt at coherency...
Very well written. Very SAD! Very painful, and beautiful. Made my heart reach out to both.
*applauds*
Much love!
(Oh, yeah, that was really coherent...)
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So beautifully written.
*claps hands*
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*bows*
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One-two-three, he counted. Three too many. Far too many.
That line was wonderful. Absolutely wonderful.
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Speechless. Sniffling. I want to run off & find James & hug him tight and explain to him. But he wouldn't be wanting that, would he? He'd be wanting Jack to do that.
*sniffles some more*
This is just so beautiful and poignant.
Last thing at night inspirations are just so wonderful at times, aren't they? I always keep a pad of paper by my bed because of the frustration I've felt in the past at not being able to write stuff down... A pen which you can light up is a useful addition, but with a bit of practice I've found a normal pen will do just as well... you just need to transcribe it in the morning :-)
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<3
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Poor James. Poor Jack. Poor both. *sniffles*
Maybe James will understand one day why everybody calls Jack a good man. Perhaps when he receives the letter.
*sniffles some more*
Now I have to read some smut. Any consolation rec?
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Consolation rec? Just go watch some more Hornblower, will you?
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Thank you for reading :-)
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I loved the way you were playing with words here and above all, I loved the repetitions... I'm a sucker for repetitions and I'm a sucker for angst. Very well done!
~sinningia~
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This was just heartbreakingly sad, but I applaud you for dealing with a harsh reality that I've seen little of in fanfic. My heart did an odd little jump when I read the line about Jack standing in front of the mirror, and I knew things were not going to end well.
I like how you managed to trace the development of their relationship so well in just a few short sentences, and I like Jack doing the honorable thing even though it meant removing himself from the vicinity of the one he loved.
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*cries*
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But, ow.
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*pets Jack and James, thanks them for appearing in my fic and sends them on their way to some nice angst-free plotbunny*
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Ouch.
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It just fades into the story, so we don't have to read that difficult style for the rest of the fic but it's not a harsh jump from one to the other. I could go on forever about the opening and still you wouldn't be able to understand how gorgeous I think that is. AMAZING!!
I enjoyed the rest of the fic too. *hugs and cuddles to angsty Jack* Let's not forget the actual content of the piece. :P
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That's Jack to a tee. A very well written story, i like how you started it. A sad ending but methinks that their relationship would end sadly, they are at two ends of the world neither would willingly give up all that they had achieved.
Very good story, I enjoyed it, write more!
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Rots the brain but fortifies the heart....
Sacrifice and Love are like Pirates and Soilders. Truly tender story! Well done.
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Re: Rots the brain but fortifies the heart....
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**cries**
Sad now.
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