𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐀𝐍 ─── jack sparrow

𝟏𝟒. Enflame and Ignite

ON HER WORD, Marion Swift was never drinking again.

For one, there was an incessant headache stabbing into her brain. The first thing she'd done that morning was roll onto her side and throw up. It had her feeling even more empty than before and her stomach liked to remind her of that, especially when she'd tried to crack open a coconut to no avail. Goodness, she must've been a sight, what with her kicking it, hurling it against trees, and even, at one point, sitting on it. Once Marion had admitted defeat, she'd retched into the bushes and resolved to dip her feet into the cool waters (as well as rinse her mouth out) and ponder on her misfortunes.

Because that's what she did best, was it not?

She thought back on the previous night with resentment. In all fairness, Marion hadn't actually committed any grievous sin—other than drinking the alcohol, that is—but it felt like it. Every time she glanced back at Jack, who was still out cold, her heart squeezed. Had she not exhibited the exact behaviour she'd chastised all pirates for having? It made matters worse that it was Sykes' voice that echoed in her mind.

"...a hypocrite, perhaps. If you don't know who you are, how can you expect any more from the rest of us?"

She dug her fingers into the sand.

Despite this, it was Will who she thought on most. It was his safety that plagued her with unabating tenacity. Marion wished for nothing more but to go to him—to save him, if she could. But all she had at her disposal was sand, trees, and ocean as far as the eye could see. If only there was an axe, then they could cut down the trees and build a raft, using the vines and palm leaves to rope it together. Perhaps Jack could finally put some truth to that tale of his. She wouldn't find his long back hair disgusting if it helped them escape this wretched place.

But no, it seemed luck would have them lying on a beach, drinking rum or else go mad with the heat. Though, descending into madness no longer sounded like such a terrible idea. At least then she could tolerate Jack's company. As long as she didn't venture so far as to enjoy it. Marion would not be making that mistake again. Her fingers absent-mindedly reached up to graze her neck. How sensitive the skin was, how warm.

Then she realised what she was doing and yanked them away.

Gods, the sooner they got off this island the better. She did not trust herself with even a single drop of rum. Not after her body's appalling betrayal. If only there had been a boat hidden under that trapdoor. How useful was rum, in the end? Sure, it prevented them from dying of thirst, but it was not a problem without alternative solutions. When Marion was little, she'd seen her mother boil seawater over the hearth until it was magically drinkable. Marion was sure she could repeat the process. There was no lack of empty glass bottles around; all she need do was hang it over the fire. Of course, she'd have to ensure there was no liquor still inside, or it might explode, and she didn't fancy being skewered by... Marion faltered, eyes growing wide.

And there it was.

The answer was so obvious, she could've smacked herself.

Thus when Jack woke that noon, it was to the smell of smoke. From out of the corner of her eye, she could see him jump to his feet and squint at the grey tendrils that were curling up from the bonfire. For a second, he just stood there, mouth hanging open. She might've laughed if the circumstances were different. Then he was hurrying forward, flaying his arms about in a wild manner. She wondered if he was still drunk.

"Not good! You burnt all the food, the shade—the rum!"

Marion ignored him, throwing another keg into the flames and ducking when it burst apart. She'd spent the morning rolling them out of the pit and forming a pile under the clump of trees. Some of the bottles she'd used to douse the barrels, making sure they were all sufficiently covered. It had only taken a spark for the first kegs to explode, fire catching onto the palm leaves above. Now it had to be over a thousand feet high.