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At World's End: Redux 25/27
by Laura (fried_flamingo)
at August 13th, 2008 (09:39 pm)
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Chapter 25


There was a fight upon the deck of the Dutchman. Norrington could see it from the corner of his eye – a flash of blonde hair, the clang of steel – and then his own battle drew him away, Jones’ blade slicing toward his chest and sending him stumbling backward.

He knew not how long they’d been fighting, but his lungs burned for air and his arms screamed in protest each time he swung the blade. Sparrow too was tiring, his glib chatter long since silenced, and he moved with the clipped efficiency of a man conserving his strength. Only Jones did not tire, his wrath far stronger than any pious man’s faith; Davy Jones would not bend, would not relent in his purpose. And the only thing he desired was Jack Sparrow – dead, it seemed.

When it happened, it was a little thing, a line torn loose in the raging gale and snaking free across the rain-slick deck. Sparrow took a step backward, the heel of his boot catching the rope which tangled about his ankle until—

He fell with a crash, scrabbled backward, scrambling to recover his footing, but he was too tired. Too slow. And Jones was upon him. He seized a fistful of Sparrow’s coat and lifted him, shoving him hard against the ship’s rail. His claw slammed into Sparrow’s sword hand, drawing a sharp cry as the blade went spinning overboard and into the furious seas. Jones exulted. “You’ll have no need of that where you’re going!”

Sparrow glared. “I don’t fear death.”

“Liar,” hissed Jones, his mouth stretching into a wretched smile. “All men fear death. All your deeds laid—” He stopped, suddenly, and looked up. His gaze arrowed to the Dutchman. “What is this?”

A slow grin spread across Sparrow’s face, his head cocked. “Touch of heartburn, perhaps?”

“What is—? ” Jones retched, breath rattling in his throat, and clutched at his chest. From between his lips bubbled seawater, grey and sludgy, and the sword fell from his hand and clattered upon his deck.

“Turner,” Norrington breathed, glancing across at the Dutchman. “He’s done it.” But the ship seemed unchanged, her tattered sails whipped madly by the storm, her vicious profile un-softened.

Sparrow said nothing, though he watched Jones with a serious intensity. There was no pity in his eyes, nothing of the sorrow with which he’d ended Beckett’s life. Instead, Norrington saw a flare of quiet triumph, a fierce satisfaction that could not be hidden. “It’s over,” Jack said. “The seas are ours.”

“Never…” Jones gasped, even as he staggered against the rail, as if pulled inexorably toward the deep. “Never!” Above and around them the storm gathered, the wind shrieking and tearing at clothes and hair. Thunder cracked, lightning flashed, and Jones yelled, head thrown back and face bared to the storm. “Never!” But then he began to topple and it seemed to Norrington that fingers of sea spray reached out to seize him, as if the very ocean rose up to draw him in. “The seas are mine!” Jones yelled, spitting fury into the wind. “They will never be yours, Jack Sparrow! Never…”

And so he fell, down toward the deep, but at the last moment his clawed hand whipped out and seized Jack’s arm. “Bugger!” Sparrow exclaimed, fumbling helplessly with one hand as he was jerked backward, over the rail. Flinging himself across the deck, Norrington just managed to seize Jack’s arm before he was pulled overboard, but his fingers were wet and cold and Jones was already falling, dragging Sparrow with him.

“Hold on!” But the weight was too much, Sparrow was slipping from his grasp. “Hold—” And then he was gone, falling with his nemesis into the deep, an expression of stark terror writ large across Jack Sparrow’s face as the ocean claimed its own.


***



For the second time that day, the wind died and the world held her breath. Sails fell limp and useless, the rain dropped in sheets, and the sea… This time, the sea did not calm. Instead, the waves grew more mountainous, and in their white crests Kasumi saw spectral faces, anguished and mournful, thousands of lost and abandoned souls surged around the ships, hands reaching towards the sea’s rolling surface.

Kasumi drew back, glancing nervously at the silent skies, and thought of Morgan Teague’s tales of goddesses and ancient magic, of vengeance and debts to be paid. The air crackled with fury, with sharp-edged retribution, as the immortals did battle beyond the ken of men.

“What is happening?” Her Shoi came to stand at her side, hair plastered to his head by the sheeting rain.

Kasumi’s blade, wet with the foul sea-blood of Jones’s creatures, fell to her side and she watched as the Dutchman turned away, disengaging from battle. “The end of the world,” she breathed. “And the dawning of a new one, perhaps.” With her chin, she gestured toward the Dutchman. “Watch, Kaigun Shosho, you will see a legend born.”

Then suddenly the world was silent no longer, for a great sigh rose from the depths. Not the tortured keening of souls in endless torment, but a sound of hope; hope that, finally, deliverance had come.

Against the raging black sea, the Dutchman began to glisten. Her deathly pallor took on a sheen of light, of life – silver, she became, glistening against the obsidian deep. Her ragged sails filled, though no wind stirred the air, and with the grace of a dolphin she dived, a silver arrow piercing the heart of the maelstrom.

She was greeted by a great fountain of water, roaring into the air and mingling with the rain as it fell back to the suddenly peaceful sea. Kasumi lifted her face to it, tasted the salt on her lips, and knew it for victory. “The seas are ours,” she smiled. Then she raised her blade high and shouted it to the world. “The seas are ours!”

And all around her, from every vessel that flew a pirate flag, came the same shout, over and over.

“The seas are ours!”


***



The water was cold as death, closing over him with a finality that he fought like the Devil who dragged him down. Jack lashed out, kicking at Jones’ face, but tentacles wrapped about his ankle and dragged him deeper. To the Locker… Back to the Locker.

Seized by terror of that bleak place he fought harder, lungs burning for air, tossed and turned by the waves until up was down and down was up and a starburst before his eyes told him that death was hard upon his heels. Lizzie…

But then, when he thought his next breath would be his last, a light appeared, floating in the blackness of the stormy sea, drawing closer, bright and warm as a drowned sun. Jack stilled, drifting in the darkness, his lungs convulsing with the need for air, for life…

The light drew closer, an amorphous shape, always changing, always beautiful. He knew it, had seen her before.

“Calypso…” The voice was not his own, but the pain-sliced whisper of Jones. His face was grey in the light of the goddess, fearful and defiant. But not sorry, never sorry…

The Locker awaits, Davy Jones, Calypso said, her voice somehow the hush of the waves. But you cannot take this one, his debt is paid...

Jack saw her face, a blur of light in the inky sea, saw her reach out a hand towards him even as his chest spasmed and he sucked in water, coughing and retching as he breathed in cold, black death. Too late, too late… He was already drowning.

But then Jones was gone, his vicious grip undone, and Jack was free. Slowly, he began to rise. Rising, rising, like hope, toward the light …


***



The shores were misty and grey, the sea black as pitch. No wind blew here, no footsteps marked the sand. It was a place of desolation, a prison whose walls were naught but despair. Elizabeth Swann knew this place, she had travelled to the ends of the earth to find it and knew what her presence here meant.

She was dead.

Upon the Locker’s empty beach stood two figures, and though Elizabeth watched from a distance – from the prow of a strange and silent ship – she recognised them both. One rum-dark and beautiful, with eyes that held the secrets of the seven seas, the other tall and broad, arrogant with the swagger of a Pirate Lord. Calypso and her lover…

“Davy Jones.” His name was an ache of such longing as a man might only dream of hearing upon his lover’s lips. “How I have hated you, these years. How I have loved you.”

“Perfidious whore,” spat Jones, his handsome face twisted ugly by rage. “Don’t dare speak to me of love. You, whose treachery brought all this upon us.”

“Treachery?” She reached out as if to touch his face, but Jones withdrew and her hand fell to her side. “I am the sea, I am the tide. I am the currents that embrace the world and bring her life. How have I betrayed you, my love?”

“You know how.” His hand pressed against his chest. “Our bargain was broken, you were not there.”

“You’re wrong, my love,” Calypso smiled. “I was there. I am always there. I am the sea, I am the tide. I come and go, but I am always there. It is my nature, hmm? Can you not forgive me what I am?”

“Aye, ’tis your nature to betray! To deceive!” He turned as if to stride away and Elizabeth noticed that he left no footprints in the sand. But then he stopped, turning back to Calypso, his finger levelled at her face. Elizabeth blinked and saw that his hand was a claw once more. “Why should I forgive you?” Jones snarled. “‘Twas your hand that cut the heart from my chest! Your cruelty that made me what I am!”

“And yours that chained me these ten-score years!” countered Calypso. “What of your cruelty, what of your betrayal?”

Jones made no reply.

Calypso’s face softened, tender again. “And yet I forgive you, my love, because you are man, and cruelty is in your nature. It is in your heart. How can I blame you for what you are?” Again, Calypso held out her hand, stepping backward into the lifeless sea. “Will you not sail with me now? Leave this place and hold me again within your heart?”

“Give me a knife and I will cut the wretched lump of flesh from my chest once more!” Jones growled. “Sail with you? I curse you! I curse you and your forgiveness. I want none of it!”

There was a silence then, the heavy silence of building anger and sorrow, of a storm about to break. Upon the black horizon, clouds bloomed and rolled. A wind stirred, whipping up the sand and churning the seas into mountains. Calypso no longer stood upon the shores of the Locker for she was somehow vast –she was everywhere and everything – and her power saturated the very air. “You have made your choice, Davy Jones!” Her voice was the roar of the waves, the rolling of stone over stone, it was the wail of the tempest and the pounding of the surf. “No more will you hold dominion over the dead, no more will you hold dominion over the living. No more will you sail these seas, nor feel the light of the sun upon your face!”

Jones staggered back as if struck, his handsome face morphing once more into a grotesque monument to his inhumanity; a man without a heart, without a soul. Yet still he raged, hurled violence in the face of the goddess. But it was a voiceless fury now, his tirade drowned by Calypso’s might. “These deathly shores are of your creation and never again shall you leave them; no life will you lead, no death will release you. Hatred and vengeance have forged this place, and they shall be your gaolers! Despair shall be the cup from which you drink!” He stumbled backward, falling, writhing as he raged in impotent fury. “Let it be done!”

Lighting forked into the mist, thunder like cannon fire so loud Elizabeth screamed with the pain of it and—

The world was still. Silent. The sea was flat and raven-black, the misty shore empty. Davy Jones was gone and Elizabeth stood alone upon the prow of the strange ship in a windless, tide-less sea. Then a hand touched her shoulder and she almost leaped from her skin, spinning around and reaching for her sword.

But there was no enemy to face, at least not yet. “Tia Dalma…?”

The woman bared stained teeth. “If you like.”

“Why am I here?” She glanced at the Locker’s empty shore. “Am I dead? Is this to be my fate?”

“Dead…?” Calypso glanced about, down into the inky sea. “No. De dead cannot enter dis place, dey stay in de deep ‘til de captain of the Dutchman carry dem to der rest.” Her face grew sad. “So many souls lost, dese two-score years, so many left to wander de seas alone…”

“The Dutchman has a new captain now,” Elizabeth said quietly. “A good man.”

The goddess smiled. “Aye, a good man indeed.”

There was an uncomfortable silence and Calypso’s fey gaze did not leave Elizabeth throughout – it was as if she could penetrate her very soul and read the truth of her heart. Elizabeth shifted, awkward. “Then if I’m not dead, why am I here?”

“I bring you here!” Calypso exclaimed with a flare of pride. “De seas are yours now, Elizabet’ Swann, de Unwilling King.” Her face grew crafty, curious. “Tell me, what will you do, hmmm? What will men do with de freedom dey claim?”

“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But I suppose that’s the whole point, isn’t it? No more fate, no more prophesy. No more bindings for anyone. That is what freedom means.”

Calypso smiled and lifted her hand to Elizabeth’s face; her fingers were cool and soft, like summer seas. “Take me from dis place,” she said. “You know de way, Elizabet’ Swann.”

“Yes,” she agreed, with a final glance at the Locker’s misty shores. “I think I do.”


***



It was as if they sat in the eye of the hurricane, though Norrington could see no winds stirring in any direction. The clouds still glowered, but they were still now, the seas flat and dark, and the sails limp in the unnaturally airless skies.

Still breathless from the battle, he pushed away from the rail of the Endeavour and made his way to the quarterdeck. From there he could see the pirate fleet – such as it was – arranged before the island they defended. Becalmed as they all were, only one ship moved – a Corsair galley, by the looks of her, long sweeps sending her behind the enemy line. Norrington wondered if she was fleeing this strange and fearsome storm, and found he couldn’t blame them if they were.

“What the devil is this?” Gillette asked, climbing the steps. His face was streaked with dirt and he wore a bloody rag about his arm where a fragment of cannon-blasted wood had struck him. “I’ve never seen the like.”

“There is more to this world, Lieutenant Gillette, that they lead you to believe at Greenwich.” Norrington squinted up at the brooding, silent clouds. “No man has seen the like of this before.”

There was a pause and Norrington could feel the men’s eyes on him, uncertain and afraid. “Shall we signal the attack, sir?” asked Gillette. “I count no more than twenty pirate ships and—”

“There is no wind,” Norrington pointed out. “And until—”

“Man overboard!” The cry went up from the royal yard, and sent the nervy crew scurrying to the rail. Norrington went with them and, despite everything, couldn’t help but swear softly in surprise when he recognised the man coughing and spluttering in the water.

“Throw him a line!” Norrington ordered, and watched with grudging admiration as Jack Sparrow all but flew up to land, in a soggy heap, upon the deck of the Endeavour.

“Incredible,” Groves muttered beneath his breath; Norrington was inclined to agree.

Walking over, he offered Sparrow his hand. The pirate only hesitated a moment before clasping it and allowing Norrington to haul him to his feet. “The immortal Jack Sparrow,” James said, permitting himself half a smile. “It seems hell does not want you.”

“No doubt the devil has a worser fate in mind.” Sparrow shook the hair from his face, though the firm grip of his hand belied his glib tone. “Jones is gone, sent to his own bloody Locker. How’s that for irony?”

“It will do very well,” Norrington agreed. “Very well indeed.”

Sparrow’s gaze darted away, toward the pirate ships arrayed against them, then out toward the naval fleet. His face fell, his panic ill concealed. “What of the Dutchman?”

“Gone,” Norrington said quietly, the old envy piqued by the blatant fear in Sparrow’s face.

Sparrow’s head dropped and he pushed heavy strands of wet hair from his face. “Elizabeth was aboard…”

“I know.”

“And?”

“And I’ve had no word.”

Sparrow nodded, grim faced, took a breath and straightened his shoulders. “No doubt made her escape and is, even now, stealing me rum.” Norrington found it impossible to comment, and perhaps Sparrow knew it, for he quickly added, “What next, then?”

“Next?”

“Well, it seems to me that with your little boats lined up here,” Sparrow said, waving a hand. “And ours lined up over there, we’re in the wonderful position of being able to blow each other to kindling in about half an hour. And wouldn’t that be a terrible waste of boats.”

Norrington raised an eyebrow. “Indeed. And your point is?”

“My point…” Sparrow drew closer, brushing imagined dust from Norrington’s drenched and filthy uniform. “My point is that Jones has gone, and the seas are free… Plenty of room for us all, eh? And it seems to me that a man like yourself, a man poised to take command of the whole glorious fleet, might see this as an opportune moment for a subtle change of policy. As it were.”

“A change of policy…?” Norrington mused upon the words and their import – upon the long road down which fate had led him since the day he had first crossed paths with Captain Jack Sparrow. Much had changed since those days, when he’d seen nothing but villainy in the wretched scum that littered the streets – pirates, vagrants, rum-soaked fools. And then, impossibly, he had become just such a vagrant, a rum-soaked fool and a pirate. How fast and how thorough had been his fall from grace, how imperceptible had been the line between respectability and villainy. Were Jack Sparrow and his Brethren more wicked than Lord Cutler Beckett? Were they more wicked than himself, the man who had given Beckett dominion over Jones – and thereby, over the whole ocean?

He had learned many lessons in the two years past, the most useful of which, perhaps, had been humility.

Admiral Norrington gave a small smile and straightened his coat. “I believe you are right, Captain Sparrow. The business of the Empire is trade, and the business of the King’s navy is to protect that trade – not to persecute a war.” He turned and met Sparrow’s knowing gaze. “No doubt we shall meet again.”

“No doubt,” Sparrow replied, touching his hand to his forehead in a slovenly salute. “But you and me both know there are worser things than pirates in these waters, eh?”

“And you and I both know that the navy will never permit pirates to prey upon the legal trade of the Empire.”

Sparrow smiled. “Then we leave things much as they ever were,” he said, holding out his hand. “You’re a good man, Commodore. A good pirate.”

Norrington accepted the compliment with a roll of his eyes, but kept a firm grip on Sparrow’s hand and in a lower voice said, “Tell Elizabeth… Tell her I wish her well.”

“Aye,” Jack agreed, his face shadowed once more. “Aye, I will.”

Then, stepping back, Norrington straightened his shoulders and ordered the men to lower a longboat that Sparrow might return to his own ship. They parted with no farewell, yet Norrington felt a weight lift from his shoulders and knew that, for the first time since he’d stolen Davy Jones’ heart, he was at ease with himself.

As Sparrow rowed toward the Pearl, Norrington turned to address the men who had gathered upon the deck. And as he spoke, the air stirred at last– but it was not the vicious blast of the storm, instead a warm westerly that tugged at the sails and brought the ripe scent of land and home. Above them, the clouds rolled back and a watery sun shimmered on the rain-slick deck.

James Norrington did not believe in goddesses of the sea – nor did he believe in sea monsters, cursed gold, or Davy Jones – and yet it seemed that, had there been such a goddess, she was smiling on them at last. Raising his voice, Norrington gave the order: “Signal the fleet – disengage action, and return to Port Royal. It is time the King’s navy returned to serving the interest of His Majesty, and not that of the East India Trading Company.”

There was no huzzah of approval – this was a naval vessel, after all – yet Norrington felt the approval of his crew, felt it ripple through the fleet as the signal spread, and it was as warm as the sun that burned in the clearing blue skies.

They were on their way home, at last.


***



Comments

Page 1 of 2[1][2]
Posted by: Claudia Mary Gacrux (cmgacrux)
Posted at: August 13th, 2008 08:59 pm (UTC)

Lovely chapter.

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 07:37 pm (UTC)
Redux

Thank you :)

Posted by: tuesday_suit (tuesday_suit)
Posted at: August 13th, 2008 09:02 pm (UTC)
Hand up

A slow grin spread across Sparrow’s face, his head cocked. “Touch of heartburn, perhaps?”

BWAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

And then he was gone, falling with his nemesis into the deep, an expression of stark terror writ large across Jack Sparrow’s face as the ocean claimed its own.

Oh, no! Jack!

“What is happening?” Her Shoi came to stand at her side, hair plastered to his head by the sheeting rain.

I love all the details in this story even the words I don't understand - you both have a much deeper understanding of everything than I do and it's fascinating to read. :-)

But then Jones was gone, his vicious grip undone, and Jack was free. Slowly, he began to rise. Rising, rising, like hope, toward the light …

And how perfect that it was Calypso who saved him. :-)

Elizabeth Swann knew this place, she had travelled to the ends of the earth to find it and knew what her presence here meant.

She was dead.


Oh, Lizzie. :-(

“I was there. I am always there. I am the sea, I am the tide. I come and go, but I am always there. It is my nature, hmm? Can you not forgive me what I am?”

This was beautiful. Really gorgeous.

“Tia Dalma…?”

The woman bared stained teeth. “If you like.”


PERFECT. :-)

“Yes,” she agreed, with a final glance at the Locker’s misty shores. “I think I do.”

Oooh, that gave me shivers.

“There is more to this world, Lieutenant Gillette, than they lead you to believe at Greenwich.”

Hee! I *heart* James.

“Incredible,” Groves muttered beneath his breath

Indeed. Also: JACK!

“The immortal Jack Sparrow,” James said, permitting himself half a smile. “It seems hell does not want you.”

I can see his expression so clearly. His voice is perfect here.

Sparrow nodded, grim faced, took a breath and straightened his shoulders. “No doubt made her escape and is, even now, stealing me rum.”

Jack's hope here is completely heartbreaking. Stealing his rum, indeed.

“And ours lined up over there, we’re in the wonderful position of being able to blow each other to kindling in about half an hour. And wouldn’t that be a terrible waste of boats.”

Hee! Jack is awesome. That is all.

“My point…” Sparrow drew closer, brushing imagined dust from Norrington’s drenched and filthy uniform.

This image made me giggle. :-)

“You’re a good man, Commodore. A good pirate.”

He is a truly excellent pirate - and a greater compliment Jack Sparrow never gave anyone, eh?

They were on their way home, at last.

Wonderful ending to a wonderful chapter - though I will miss James, of course. :-)

Only two more to go, huh? Can't wait to get to the end, and yet it's coming much too quickly. Fabulous work, all of it. :-)

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 07:40 pm (UTC)
king

Thanks so much, hun. We'll be sad to say goodbye to the fic, it's been so much fun posting it. But we're looking forward to new projects ;)

Posted by: alana1079 (alana1079)
Posted at: August 13th, 2008 09:12 pm (UTC)
Alana

#78 on the list of things I appreciate the most about this story...

- Correct usage of Jack-speak

You're not over the top and you're not making him sound like a proper English gentleman. You have managed quite well to capture Jack Sparrow in print. My favorite sentence from him in this entire update was composed of three simple words. "As it were." I can hear him say it. That's why it's lovely.

Well done, ladies. I look forward to the coming of the end.

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 07:43 pm (UTC)
payment

Thank you so much. I think it is so important to get the rigt balance of Jack-speak and I'm so glad you think we've achieved it in the story.

Penultimate chapter up shortly!

Posted by: Bell B. (bellbubble)
Posted at: August 13th, 2008 09:16 pm (UTC)

*w*

So pretty!! I simply loved the chapter!! Every character at their best - Norrie and Jack specially, makes you wanna hug 'em xD And the sort of alliance between our Sea Goddess and Pirate King was so fitting of the story; this Calypso who forgives and understands the human heart is... *-* (talking about forgiveness, do forgive the speechless state I find myself in right now; the fic so beautifully written I can't help it!!).

Just a small question, my asking permitted of course, silly little thing buggering me is... Will is not captain of the Dutchman, is he?! Suspense kills, did you know?

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 08:06 pm (UTC)
blacksmith

I'm so glad you like our version of Calypso. We wanted to show how he had as much to learn from mortals as they did from her - it's good to know you like what we've done with her.

And as for your question, the new chapter will be up in just a tick with all the answers ;)

Posted by: The Deep Blue Ocean (creativeideas)
Posted at: August 13th, 2008 09:26 pm (UTC)

I loved how you have written James throughout this story I could hear his conversation with Jack so clearly - and am so happy he has had such a positive exit :-))

I felt sorry for Davy Jones - even at the end he couldn't let go of his hatred. His exchange with Calypso was so desperately sad, when he could have chosen otherwise :-(

Am glad that Lizzie is getting out of there, I hope she is reunited with Jack :-) Can't wait to read the ending whatever happens :D

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 08:53 pm (UTC)
damned

We really wanted to do Norrington justice in the story, so I'm very pleased you've been happy with his characterisation. We didn't have the heart to kill him off :)

And poor Davy, too bitter to forgive even at the end, so as you say, his fate really is of his own devising.

New chapter up now!

Posted by: greenisbeauty (greenisbeauty)
Posted at: August 13th, 2008 09:39 pm (UTC)

This...

A slow grin spread across Sparrow’s face, his head cocked. “Touch of heartburn, perhaps?”

and this...

“The immortal Jack Sparrow,” James said, permitting himself half a smile. “It seems hell does not want you.”

absolutely made my day. While I love the drama and the action, I have to say, reading of the warm winds sure did bring me a sense of relief! I am both excited for and dreading the last two chapters. No doubt you understand. ; )


Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 08:55 pm (UTC)
Admiral

So glad you liked the chapter. I think we all needed just a wee bit of a breather after the action.

Second to last chapter up now :)

Posted by: kenton_bomb (kenton_bomb)
Posted at: August 13th, 2008 09:47 pm (UTC)

I can't believe there are only two chapters of this left. I don't EVER want it to end. do you hear me?!?!? Write more!! :D

So ahem...

“Touch of heartburn, perhaps?”

LOL

Hold—” And then he was gone, falling with his nemesis into the deep, an expression of stark terror writ large across Jack Sparrow’s face as the ocean claimed its own.

Oh noes! Now who’s gonna save Lizzie?!?!?

She was dead.

No, she wasn’t. I refuse to believe it :’(

She was dead.

Aww, that’s nice of you Calypso.

Sorry, I kinda got too into the story to pick more bits out but rest assured I loved every bit of it. The two of you are excellent at creating suspense, was Jack going to die? Was Lizzie? Would there still be a war?

And now there's more suspense because, even though she's apparently not dead, where is Lizzie. When do we get her back?!?!

As always I can't wait for the next update. You two write so brilliantly that I'm sure even the disappointment of the story ending will be nothing compared to the brilliance that is Redux. Did that even make sense? I knew what I was gonna say and it did make sense, honest, but then at the last moment I forgot. That happens all the time, isn't it annoying?

Well done once again. Is it Sunday yet?

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 08:56 pm (UTC)
king

LOL, we'll be sad to see it end too! *sob*

Thanks so much for your comments, hun! New chapter up now!

(Deleted comment)
Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 08:57 pm (UTC)
payment

Thank you so much! I like to think there's a touch of immortality about Jack Sparrow too :)

New chapter up now!

Posted by: awickedwench (awickedwench)
Posted at: August 14th, 2008 12:57 am (UTC)
Freedom

Wonderful chapter! Loved it all, every word. With each chapter, though, I know we are getting close to the end and that makes me sad...but I know that the next one must bring a J/E reunion. And that will be good. Very good! ;)

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 08:59 pm (UTC)
Redux

Thank you so much, love! We'll be sad to say goodbye to this story too, btu we're so pleased that you've been enjoying it.

Penultimate chapter up now :)

Posted by: blacklilac17 (blacklilac17)
Posted at: August 14th, 2008 02:55 am (UTC)

Yay, no one's dead! That's great! Now we just need Jack and Elizabeth together, right? Loved this chapter!!

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 09:00 pm (UTC)
payment

Now we just need Jack and Elizabeth together, right?

Your wish is our command. New chapter up now :)

Edited at 2008-08-17 09:00 pm (UTC)

Posted by: sparrows_swann (sparrows_swann)
Posted at: August 14th, 2008 03:21 am (UTC)

THANK YOU for giving Norrington an ending worthy of him. :)

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 09:01 pm (UTC)
Admiral

And thank you for taking the time to post such a lovely comment!

Posted by: djarum99 (djarum99)
Posted at: August 14th, 2008 04:39 am (UTC)
jackcaptain

I second the kudos for honoring Norrington - I love him here, snarky and noble and secretly admiring Jack Sparrow...just a little :-)

I loved the scene between Calypso and Jones, and the fact that she asks Elizabeth to take her out of the Locker, that Elizabeth knows the way.

Wonderful piratey action and vivid imagery, as always. Brava once more - absolutely brilliant ♥

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 09:10 pm (UTC)
Admiral

Oh I think Norrington might have a little man-crush on Jack now - and who can blame the bloke? ;)

Thanks for the comments, love! Only one more to go *sob*

Posted by: Florencia (florencia7)
Posted at: August 14th, 2008 11:35 am (UTC)
JE KISS

I'm so relieved that Elizabeth is not dead!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I love how all the stories are coming to an end, and how you give each character an important place, telling each of their tales with such wonderful care and insight. It's almost impossible to tell which characters are main in this story, because you give each character a complex tale on her/his own. This story is like a beautiful collection of many stories, it's so very unique and enthralling.

And your style of writing makes this story truly unforgettable! I'm amazed by this world that you've created - reading this story feels like traveling into faraway, beautiful, exotic lands - unpredictable and full of magic.

I can't wait for the next chapter!!! I hope that Jack & Lizzie will be given their well-deserved happy ending:]

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 09:12 pm (UTC)
king

Thank you so much for your lovely comments, hun. It's good to know that you're enjoying the story of all the characters.

As for happy endings, two capters to go so you'll just need to keep reading to find out ;)

Posted by: DC (drillingcat)
Posted at: August 14th, 2008 01:02 pm (UTC)
capn jack heh!

i must apologise for my lack of eloquence in my comments when i say that this was just... beautiful!!

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 09:12 pm (UTC)
Redux

Heehee! Thanks so much, hun!

Posted by: hereswith (hereswith)
Posted at: August 14th, 2008 02:26 pm (UTC)
James

...Norrington felt the approval of his crew, felt it ripple through the fleet as the signal spread, and it was as warm as the sun that burned in the clearing blue skies. They were on their way home, at last.

Norrington is alive! *dances a happy dance* Norrington is alive! Ahem. I was so hoping you would go that route, so thank you for that :-) I loved the ending scene with him and his conversation with Jack. And Calypso and Davy's meeting was tragic, he had a chance to take another path, but let anger stand in his way. Now that most things seem to have been sorted out, one question remains... what about Will?

Posted by: Laura (fried_flamingo)
Posted at: August 17th, 2008 09:15 pm (UTC)
blacksmith

We just could not bring ourselves to kill James. He deserves more than that, I think. Glad you liked his ending :)

I think DMC set up Davy Jones as a very tragic character, but I don't think they followed it through enough in AWE, unfortunately.

Now that most things seem to have been sorted out, one question remains... what about Will?

New chapter up now ;)

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