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Reasons
BY: Maheruu*** They say there's a reason for everything.
Maybe one day, I'll find
mine. I always wondered what I really wanted to do with my life. To fold steel in to strips for both decoration and death? To watch from a distance the beautiful girl grow into womanhood? Or were there some other options? Options that I had never considered before? Port Royal was a larger town, mainly because, being a port city, it was nearer to merchants and stores. Even down by the cobble stone alley, where the door to the blacksmith resided, it was busy. Men and women pushing their way to and fro, hurrying to get from here to there. Steins of liquid clutched in fists, reams of fabrics braced over shoulders, each with their own reasons. Watching from that hidden little window, I could see these people. And their reasons. That plump, squat woman was carrying supplies that her master had ordered to had a dress made for his elegant (and missing London) wife. That man over there, whom was creeping through the shadows, he was on his way to the tavern to drink his sorrows over another lost dream, away. Maybe my imagination ran away, maybe those weren't the true reasons for their passing my window, but they did have them. Unlike me. Each day I'd do the things that I needed to do. Not the things I wanted to. Swords made by me were perfect. But there was no feeling put into the work. And the ironic thing was that those heartless tools that I created had more reason to exist than I did. Swords were always needed. To protect the vulnerable women of the town. To don the uniforms of the King's proud navy. To give a sense of power. To kill. I'd make these swords by the dozen, while old Brown slept. I'd make these swords all the while wishing that I was walking by, beneath my secret window, with my very own purpose. Once, I did have a reason. I had to save Elizabeth. The adventure that brought me in contact with a mad pirate, an un-dead crew, ancient cursed Aztec treasure, and revelations about my blood and father, also gave me a sense of being. It was a straight out mission. I knew what I had to do and I did it. But once the applause died down and the dust settled, the reason that had so often eluded me and had generously landed in my lap, disappeared again. Elizabeth was saved, and was once again behind the safe walls of her mansion. Where her purpose was. Barbossa and his crew were dead. That was the end that they chose when they lifted that first coin from that chest. Norrington had his sense of control back firmly in place and was serving his purpose by making sure the town was safe. And Jack? Jack had his Pearl back and was sailing away. I always knew what his lot in life was. To be free. To go from port town to port, pilfering and plundering, and drinking away. For a while his freedom was put on hold while his mission became the search for the Pearl and the need for his ship back. In a way, the Pearl was Jack's reason personified. And all I could feel was envy. I want that. I want my reason to be something. Someone. Elizabeth. I once though she was mine. For a while, she was. But like the adventure, it was over. Jack. Maybe he was mine. Maybe I will make him my reason. At least then I'll have a set mission. Maybe he has been my reason all along. |
