Song of the Sea

Chapter Four: The Storm

The clouds that had been on the horizon all of today had blackened with alarming speed. They were rolling closer and closer to the Pearl, approaching on the port side, and Diane could see flashes of lightning in them. She bit her lip and shot some hot air at herself--the wind was gaining speed, sending icy spray over the bow of the ship. She'd never expected the storm to pick up speed this quickly. Turning to Sparrow, she asked, "Can the Pearl outrun that storm?"

He shook his head. "Afraid not, Diane. I've heard of these freak storms, dangerous, high winds, thunder. But no one ever said that they were cold as well." For the first time that she could remember, Jack Sparrow looked rather worried as he eyed the dark storm clouds. Not that he was alone--although she'd never show it, Diane was starting to feel very uneasy. Caribbean storms did occur, but they were never overly chilly. But as these clouds were increasing and darkening, a cold wind had also picked up, bobbing the ship like a cork. She'd long since gotten her sea legs, but the spray from the growing waves made the deck very slippery.

"We're not going to sail through that, are we?" she asked. Sparrow cocked an eyebrow at her.

"I thought you were clever, lass. We'll sail in front of it, and maybe it'll blow out before it reaches us," he teased. It was apparent from his tone of voice that he was highly skeptical of the last statement. Ignoring the mock insult, Diane pulled out her wand. Carefully, she began to cast Impervious Charms on the important parts of the ship, allowing the wood to repel water. All the while, she cast wary looks at the clouds, which had gotten darker and begun to fan out towards the Black Pearl. An hour and many spells later, her work was done, but the storm was probably no more that two miles from them. Sparrow called all hands on deck, but didn't lower the sails.

At her quizzical look, he answered the question she was burning to ask. "We can still sail, I think. It doesn't look too bad compared to some that I've seen." She stared at him in utter disbelief--the thunder clouds were the biggest and darkest she'd ever seen in her life, and the sky was becoming curiously tiger striped, with bands of golden sunshine being drowned out by clouds of deepest black-gray. "Don't look at me like that, Diane. I know what I'm doing."

"Right, but don't count on me being able to do much. I don't have the power to turn off that storm."

"I never said that you did. I just wondered if you might be able to at least provide some warmth for my crew and myself?" said Sparrow with a hint of anxiety in his voice. At this, several of the crew members turned around and looked curiously at her. Besides her fixing and occasional pranks, they'd never seen serious magic. She nodded and pulled out her trusty bottle of flames.

"Duplicia!" She cast the charm again and again until there was a small bottle of flames for everyone aboard. "Just tuck that under your shirts or something, hypothermia's a pain in the neck to deal with." They all nodded warily, but Sparrow looked askance at his.

"A bottle of flames? Nothing that's less cumbersome?"

"Sure, I could come up with a Permanent Heating Charm if you gave me a few hours. On your own neck be it if you're too proud to use it," said Diane wearily. Why, in Merlin's name, did he have to be so difficult? Sparrow glared at the bottle for a few seconds, then, to Diane's relief, stuffed it into his vest pocket. He gave her a wry wink, then, in an unexpected gesture, reached out and tousled her coppery hair.

"I don't have a few hours, so this'll do well," he said lightly, but she could detect a bit of tension in his voice as he turned back to his steering. And with good reason--the storm was almost upon them, now approaching from behind. At first, she stood there like an idiot, rather stunned at his odd gesture, then called the crew back over with an idea in mind.

"Wait. I can make your faces and hair water-resistant. Is that ok, Jack?" The pirate captain nodded and she cast the spell in each of them in turn, careful not to touch anyone with her wand. She couldn't help noticing that each of the pirates seemed a bit uneasy as she whispered the spell and then glanced at each other nervously. "Don't worry, your faces aren't green or anything," she said, earning herself a chuckle from most of the crew. As soon as the last person became water-repellent, they immediately got to work, but to her surprise, none of them called for her.

"Is there anything I can do?" Sparrow simply shook his head.

"Not unless you can turn that storm off, which you've already said you can't. Just keep an eye out for my crew." A rather odd sensation gripped her momentarily, one that she'd never felt in her life. It took her a few minutes to realize that the emotion was helplessness. Here was something that she couldn't blast out of the way with the Reductor Curse, and a situation that she could only slightly help with spells. Nonetheless, she was determined to do what little she could, so she stood just behind Sparrow, giving her a clear view of the crew.

The first wave of rain hit them with unprecedented speed and fury. Diane held onto the railing to keep herself from being swept off her feet by the wind and rain. She could hardly hear anything over the constant pounding of the sheets of rain, and Sparrow's yelling to his crew was soon drowned out in low rolls of thunder. She carefully pointed her wand at him. "Sonorous!" The sound that began issuing from his mouth was especially hard on her ears, but he looked grateful for the spell and gave her a preoccupied smile before turning back to his steering.

CRASH! She whipped around, and in a brilliant flash of lightning, saw a crumpled body lying next to one of the crates. Diane grabbed her wand and dashed over to the unfortunate man. He seemed to have hit his head; blood was streaming from the back of his cranium and his eyes, though half-open, were blank.

"Damn! Please don't be dead, please," she intoned under her breath, fighting down the sick feeling that seeing blood always gave her. "Mobilicorpus!" Head lolling and arms dangling, he was pulled into an upright position. She struggled through the silver bullets of rain, nearly running into someone. She went below deck and quickly got the man into the medical cabin of the pearl. "Finite." The spell loosened its hold on him and she dropped him onto a cot.

She swore again at the sight of the massive bloody lump on the back of his head. "Ferula!" Bandages sprang up around the wound. "Dormino Restorim!" The healing sleep would recuperate him well enough for now. She conjured some straps to keep him from falling off of the cot; the rolling of the ship was steadily growing worse. She staggered out of the room, but just as she was about to ascend the stairs, a violent lurch sent her smashing into a corner of the wall. Something twisted, and a shot of sickening pain shot up her left arm. Diane stuffed her wand back in her pocket and hauled herself up the stairs, clutching the railing with her good arm.

A wave of icy water slapped her right in the stomach as she hurried back on deck. Squinting through the rain, a flash of lightning illuminated the crew, trying to haul the sails down. But the great black sails were whipping around furiously in the wind, and two of the men were nearly lifted off their feet. Diane gritted her teeth at the pain in her arm. She shot an Impediment Jinx at one of the sails, then slid onto the sodden deck to take a good look at her arm. Her shoulder, wrist, and elbow were working fine, but the lower part of her arm was already starting to bruise.

"MAN OVERBOARD! MAN OVERBOARD, CAP'N!" hollered a voice from the right side of the ship. Dimly, through the buckets of water, she saw Sparrow hurtling toward the side. He stared over the edge of the ship, then unceremoniously grabbed a rope, handed one end of it to the man who'd yelled, and dived. Diane, forgetting the pain in her arm, dashed over to the edge of the ship.

Another flash of lightning--Sparrow was struggling toward a man who was being violently swept away by the ten-foot waves. She sprinted over to the bow, pulling out her wand as she ran. Taking careful aim, she yelled, "Accio!" But the spell didn't work properly--instead of shooting up out of the waters, he was tugged toward the hull of the Pearl. Sparrow, however, immediately swam for him and managed to grab hold of his arm...but they were getting too close! Diane nearly bit through her lip as they were dragged closer and closer to the hull...

"Reducto!" she shouted. Again, it didn't fully work, but the two men were pushed away from the ship by the force of the spell. Please let it be enough...please let it work, she thought desperately.

It was enough. With the crew hauling and Sparrow swimming with all his strength, the two men toppled on board the ship. They lay there, pale and limp as rag dolls--but both were breathing. Diane touched Sparrow's arm, checking for injury as two other pirates carried the other man into the medical cabin. He was panting for breath, but clutched at her hand. She helped him to his feet, and was about to lead him below decks when he shook his head.

"I need to stay up here. Trust me, Diane," he panted. She didn't want to waste any more time arguing, so she let him lean on her and helped him up to the helm. "Thanks a ton, love," he said quietly. She smiled slightly at him, and the pain in her arm seemed to increase tenfold. Gritting her teeth, she lit her wand and conjured bandages.

With repeated Impediment Jinxes and nearly two hours of freezing, sodden work, they managed to haul the sails down. When the last sail came down, Diane collapsed on the deck, utterly exhausted, her arm throbbing worse than ever--

"AAARRRGGHH!!" came a yell, cutting through her exhaustion. She opened her eyes and nearly fainted. On top of everything else, this was just too much.

An enormous wave, towering over their heads, was headed straight for the Pearl. For a split second, Diane thought that it might just be better to die, to let this wave take them, but that impulse vanished. She quickly shot three Reductor Curses in succession at it, and continued a barrage of spells.

The wave slapped over the side of the ship, but Diane, who had been casting spells at it, hadn't had time to grab onto anything. It tumbled her head-over-heels to the other side of the ship. Her hand collided with the railing and she felt her wand slip from her grasp. Gasping for breath, she looked over the side of the ship. The wand tip was still lit, but the little light was quickly sinking.

"Jack! Jack, help! My wand fell into the water!" she screamed, all pain forgotten. Sparrow whipped around and dashed toward her. For the second time that evening, he plunged headfirst into the waters. Her heart sank with him as she watched him go deeper and deeper into the sea. If he didn't get it...if he couldn't make it...time seemed to slow to a crawl as she watched. Ten seconds...thirty seconds...one minute...a minute and ten seconds...

A minute and a half--surely he should have come up by now? Or maybe...no. He couldn't be gone...maybe something went wrong. If it had, it was entirely her fault--

Just then, the pirate captain's head appeared above the turbulent waves. An overwhelming sense of relief swept over her as she helped her crew haul him aboard. He staggered, then collapsed into her. Diane barely caught him and laid him quickly down on the deck. Her wand was clutched in his left hand, but when she took it from him, his flesh was icy cold to her touch.

"Oh no," she breathed as she unbuttoned the front of his shirt. The bottle of flames wasn't there--he probably had thrown caution to the winds early on...and now...she quickly levitated him down the stairs and into the captain's quarters, onto the bed. Gibbs had followed her down, but she paid him no mind as she unceremoniously pulled Sparrow's sodden clothes off.

"What the hell are ye doin'?!" hollered Mr. Gibbs.

"Hypothermia...he's got hypothermia," she said faintly. She stripped Sparrow down to his underpants, then grabbed a bundle of dry blankets and wrapped him up. "Listen. You lot'll have to take care of the Pearl. Jack's in bad shape, so you'll have to take over as his first mate."

"Why? He's not shiverin' at all."

"Dammit, he's too cold to shiver. Leave him to me, I know how to deal with this." Gibbs didn't argue; there was a desperation and a command in her voice that he couldn't debate against. Diane tucked more and more blankets around the pirate captain, then pulled out her bottle of fire. She tucked it in against him, not realizing that there were tears on her own face, mingling with the rain.

Jack's lips were blue, and his skin was deathly white, but he murmured something as she shot streams of warm air into the blankets. "Jack...c'mon, don't give out on me. Don't give up...don't give in," she said feverishly. She dashed over to the dining cabin and grabbed two bottles of spiced rum. Dumping the drink into a bucket, she conjured up two more bottles of fire and slid them in next to him as well.

Without her own bottle of flames, Diane began to shiver violently. She slid out of her sodden dress and into her thin nightgown. Every five minutes, she shot more warm air in next to him, and within twenty minutes, his cheeks began to regain a bit of color and warmth. Diane let out a sigh of relief--if he kept warm, he'd be just fine. One of his hands was lying outside of his blankets and she gently squeezed it. She laid down next to him and slid under the blankets. Before she knew it, her exhaustion had carried her off to sleep.

The door to the captain's quarters banged open the next morning, waking Diane with a start. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and saw Gibbs and another pirate called Parker standing there.

"How be Jack?" asked Gibbs with his customary brusque tone.

"He'll be fine," she yawned, stretching her arms out. "He needs rest, though, and he's sleeping right now."

"How long's this healing thing gonna take?" said Parker.

"Three days. Two at least."

"Three bloody days?!" roared both pirates in unison. Diane shrugged and rolled her eyes. Typical men; wizard or Muggle, they never understood how important healing was.

"Well, I could have him get up and about today, but then he wouldn't last longer than two hours," she said acidly. "And keep your voices down--he needs to get some sleep."

"But he's already gotten some sleep," came Jack Sparrow's voice from beside her. He tried to push himself into a sitting position, but Diane pushed him back onto his blankets. He attempted to scowl at her, but didn't seem to have the strength.

"Yes, but you need to stay in bed. Trust me on this, Jack."

"Fine," he said, putting his lips in a pout. "Gibbs, you're in charge of getting us to Isla de Muerta. Parker, you give him a hand. Apparently, our resident witch insists on holding me hostage." The two men nodded and left the room. Diane rolled her eyes playfully at Jack.

"Hostage? I'm the one who's hostage here," she teased. Instead of laughing, however, he reached out a still-pallid hand to her.

"What happened?" he asked as he grasped her hand. "You saved my life, didn't you?"

"Well...you ditched your bottle of flames and got hypothermia, so I brought you in here and got you warmed up." She kept her tone carefully light and casual, but his touch rather unnerved her. He looked at her intently for several seconds before nodding slightly.

"Thank you, Diane," he said hesitantly, as if he'd never thanked anyone before. "I--I owe you my life."

She squirmed slightly. "If you hadn't gone after my wand, I'd be in big trouble too, so we're square." He shook his head, but didn't argue. "Listen, Jack, just get some rest, ok? Are you hungry or anything?"

"No. I'm just a bit worn out, but other than that--" He stopped as he saw the bandages on her left arm. "What--"

"It's nothing, I just banged myself up a bit," she said hurriedly. Actually, she hadn't given a thought to her arm, but it started to throb now. She gently wriggled her right hand out of his grasp and gingerly undid the bandages. It was not a pretty sight--the entire back of her lower arm was covered in purplish-green bruises. Diane made a slight face, but there didn't seem to be any permanent damage.

"That's nothing?" said Jack with a bit of his normal good humor.

"Look who's talking," she said lightly. She tapped the arm four times with her wand and whispered a basic healing spell, which would be more than enough. He was still eyeing the bruises with a worried expression, so she hastily asked, "What's Isla de Muerta?"

"Spanish for 'Island of the Dead'," he said. Catching her revolted expression, he quickly added, "But it's pretty much just an ordinary island. It's where my crew and I keep our gold. Safer there than in any bank in the world."

"What do you mean, 'pretty much'? Is there something really interesting about it or something?" she asked curiously.

Jack gave her a shadow of his usual cocky grin, and launched into the story, how his former first mate, Barbossa had overthrown him. How he'd ended up in Port Royal and met Elizabeth Swann and Will Turner. Elizabeth had been kidnapped by Barbossa's crew, because she had the last piece of gold to break a terrible curse on the pirates. Jack and Will had forged a wary alliance to go after them. It was a long story, and took much of the morning to tell. Diane was absolutely entranced--whatever else Jack Sparrow might be, he was a hell of a storyteller.

When he was finished, she asked, "Where are Will and Elizabeth now?"

"They're married," he said shortly. "Mr. and Mrs. Turner still live in Port Royal." It was odd, but Diane thought that she could hear something wistful in his voice, a tone that she'd never heard Jack Sparrow use before. Is he...does he wish he had a woman or something?

"Sorry I made you talk for so long. You should probably get some sleep now," she said, struggling out of her thoughts. Jack nodded and she helped him lie down. "Sweet dreams, Jack," she whispered before slipping out of the room.

A/N: Ok, you're probably tired of me saying this by now, but reviews are wonderful and great and make me very happy! So there was a hint of Diane/Jack stuff in this chapter, happier with me? I promise there will be more...I swear upon the bottles of rum! And here are my overdue thanks to the people who are reviewing:

Tourmaline: You'll know the motive for the attack eventually...

bmiller669: I've got the soundtrack, and it's really cool. I'm working on the thoughts, but not too good at doing thoughts right now.

Mystic Penguin: I'm working on the other pirates, but right now, our dear lass is a little too caught up with herself to notice them.

Musicmage: Cameo? Ok, I'll try, and thanks for the advice...

Tiniwiel: I misspelled it? Whoops, but please forgive me, I don't speak French...

Rebirth LaFay: Ten years of French? Wow. Thanks for the compliments.