CHAPTER 16 - And Really Bad Eggs!

“…And then they made me their chief.” Jack finishes his story with a cocky grin as he unwraps the bandages around the wound on your side. You look at the revealed wound; it’s closed with dried blood, the skin around the gash is slightly red. It obviously has bled a little from the side, thanks to the pirate who shoved you onboard the Pearl, but other than that it looks like it’s already healing nicely and doesn’t throb anymore.

“Doesn’t look bad, but it could be wise to clean it a bit,” Jack muses more to himself than you, taking the discarded bandages and folding them so that the mostly clean part is up, and pours some rum on it. Your eyes widen and you know what’s coming.

“Ah, no again– OW!” you shriek as he unceremoniously slants the rum soaked bandage on your wound, wiping it clean. You thank God the wound has mostly scabbed, and it doesn’t sting as much as it did when Jack cleaned it the first time at Gibbs’ place.

“There, all better. Ye ought to be thankful I sacrificed some of my rum to clean it,” Jack grins as he moves to lean his back against a palm, and you glare at him in return while letting go of the shirt hem you were holding up. Deciding not to bandage the cut again to speed the healing, you fold up the bloodied cloths and the bedraggled bandages in a neat pile, dropping them on the sand.

The two of you have been lounging in the cool shadows of the palms by the beach, Jack entertaining you with his stories of his travels around the seas. Jack is now leaning his back against the trunk of a palm, one leg draw up, his right forearm resting on his knee. You begin to wonder if that bottle of rum is permanently attached to his right hand, for he seems very reluctant to part from it.

You’re sitting cross-legged under another palm next to him, fingering the cork of a rum bottle that Jack gave you once you sat down in the shadows. “No lady’s left with a dry mouth in my company, luv,” he remarked as he thrust the bottle in your hand, winking. You didn’t fail to miss the double-meaning of the seemingly innocent comment, and rolled your eyes, earning a delighted chuckle from Jack.

“Chief,” you repeat flatly, bringing the subject back to his story. “Suuu-re, Jack,” you drawl dubiously and smirk, hardly believing a word of his preposterous tale. Well, if not completely made up, it’s very much exaggerated like most of his stories.

Jack’s eyebrows climb up to his bandanna while he takes a swig of rum from his own bottle. “What?” he asks as soon as the bottle leaves his lips, narrowing his eyes slightly. “You implying that I lie? Shame on you,” he tsks, waving his forefinger at you in scolding way.

“I’m not implying anything. I’m outright saying that you’re lying,” you reply in amused tone.

“Ah, lying is such a strong word… It’s more like bending the truth, really,” Jack says musingly with a small wave of his free hand.

You laugh. “Your logic never fails to amaze me.”

“Aye,” Jack smirks smugly, “I’m quite amazing, even if I do say so myself. Stop hatching that bottle and drink!” he goes on in slightly peeved tone, indicating the bottle you’re holding in the space between your crossed legs, mumbling something about wasting perfectly good liquor.

“Alright, alright!” you uncork the bottle, Jack following your actions closely. Grabbing the bottle, you bring it to your lips and take a hearty drink, narrowing your eyes slightly as the rum burns your throat on the way down.

“Good vintage,” you crack as you lower the bottle, and Jack grins approvingly, his gold capped teeth glinting faintly. You have to admit, it was good stuff.

“The best, luv. Only the best,” Jack drawls, taking a drink from his bottle. You once again wonder at his endurance when it comes to alcohol; he’s already downed at least one full bottle and there’s not much left in the one he’s holding now. Yes, his steps swayed slightly more than normally as you made your way to the trees, but other than that he still seems to be pretty sensible. Well, as sensible as he can be, and that’s somewhat stretchy concept when regarding Captain Jack Sparrow.

Your mind abruptly wanders back to Elizabeth and you sweep the surroundings with your gaze, looking for any signs of her; she’s been gone for a good while now.

“She’ll be back when she cools down and realizes there’s nothing we can do,” Jack’s voice interrupts your search, and your eyes dart to meet his. He grins knowingly. “So, getting protective, are we?”

You frown. “What are you talking about?”

Jack rolls his eyes pleasantly, small smirk tugging his lips. “It’s quite touching, really. Two long lost cousins,” he sweeps his hands in the air in grand gestures as he goes on, “One a pampered lady and the other an outlawed pirate lass... finally reunited after many long years.”

You grimace. “That sounds like a bad novel. Throw in the pampered lady’s kidnapped beloved, a crew of evil undead pirates and a cursed ship and you’re all set,” you remark dryly, but a small grin keeps pulling the corners of your mouth.

“You forgot the dashing Captain of the cursed ship, currently stolen from ‘im, who strikes terror in those who oppose him an’ makes every woman swoon over his devilishly handsome looks,” Jack adds with a decidedly self-satisfied grin.

You scrunch up your nose. “I don’t think Barbossa is very swoon-worthy,” you say calmly, deliberately misunderstanding. Your façade is broken as Jack looks at you with incredulous expression, and burst into laughter.

“Sink me!” Jack cries out, aghast. “The day anyone thinks of Barbossa as swoon-worthy, I will personally hand ‘im over the Pearl!”

You stifle your snickers, and cough to clear your throat. “You should have seen your face! Sorry Jack, I just couldn’t resist,” you grin. Jack shakes his head, albeit with small smile.

“Okay, so we add the ‘dashing Captain’, then,” you allow with good-natured eye rolling at Jack’s self-proclaimed title.

“You left off the striking terror, swooning, devilishly handsome looks and so forth…” Jack points out nonchalantly.

You smirk playfully. “I thought they are to be taken for granted?”

“You're good for my self-esteem, luv,” Jack grins broadly.

“Hmm. Captain Jack Sparrow’s personal ego booster. Just what I’ve always dreamed of doing,” you say with pleasant sarcasm.

“That doesn’t sound half bad... But of course you do luv, countless of women dream about me. But I can’t really blame ‘em, now can I?” he grins mischievously.

You shake your head with a smirk. “Forget it. You seem to be doing just fine on your own.”

Jack makes a regretful noise from his throat. “Mores the pity. Could’ve been a dream occupation, y’know. With great employment benefits, understandably…”

You raise a speculative brow. “Such as?”

Jack grins, spreading his hands wide open. “You get to spend lots of time with yours truly, of course!”

You laugh a little. “Ah, well. Seeing as we’re stuck here for God knows how long, that doesn’t quite do the trick.”

Jack waves his hand dismissively. “Let’s not pay attention to minor details.”

You snort, and straighten your legs in front of you since they’re starting to get numb. Taking a drink for the rum bottle, you place it next to you on the ground. Gazing out at the vastness of the sea, you suddenly notice the sky has turned into different shades of pink, blue, red, orange and slight amount of bright yellow in the horizon, where the sea seems to be swallowing the sun. You frown slightly in thought; how has the time flown by so quickly? It’s going to get dark in a matter of hours. The casual, carefree banter with Jack has totally diverted your attention from anything else, including Elizabeth. Oh well, she can most likely take care of herself, she did hold her ground when Barbossa’s crew boarded the Interceptor.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Jack breaks the comfortable silence between you, making you glance at him. He’s leaning the back of his head on the palm trunk, staring solemnly at the sunset.

You return you eyes to the glorious play of the warm colours over the blueness of the Caribbean Sea, and inhale deeply. Light breeze blows gently from the sea, smelling faintly of salt water.

“Aye, it is,” you agree. Some of the most beautiful things in the Caribbean are undeniably the sunsets. They can only be rivalled by the velvety nights littered with millions of glittering stars on the sky.

“That’s one of the perks of being a pirate. There’s hardly anything more breathtaking than a sunset over the sea as ye watch it from your ship...” Jack trails off, with a faint smile on his lips. You can hear the underlying longing in his voice. Longing for his ship, longing for the adventures… but most of all, longing for his freedom.

Discreetly observing the undeniably handsome pirate next to you, you realize that despite the bleak circumstances, you’re actually enjoying your stay on the island and the conversations with him. This is the first time you’ve actually get to talk to him in peace, without having to worry about redcoats or Barbossa’s crew chasing after you. Darting your eyes back to the colourful horizon, you feel ashamed to delight in the fact that you’re stuck here while Will, who you do consider a friend even though he might not, is being shipped off to be sacrificed. You truly hope he’d manage to escape by some sort of miracle.

“Well, I’ll drink to that,” you say finally in subdued tone and give Jack a genuine smile. He returns it, and you clink your bottles together, both taking hearty swigs of rum as the last rays of sun disappear below the horizon. Jack empties what little he has left in his bottle, and you set your own down, which is still half-full.

“What say you about getting us some more rum, while I see if I can fix us a fire? It can get chilly here, though I’m not at all opposed to sharing some body heat…” Jack suggests, reluctantly getting on his slightly unsteady feet, this action being followed by the clinking and jingling of the beads woven in his dark brown dreadlocks. You wonder if he’s fit enough to build a fire, but you dismiss the thought. That man must have been born drunk, and he’s only slightly tipsy.

“Sure you wouldn’t, but a fire would be nice. I’ll see if I can find our pampered lady too while I’m getting the rum,” you reply, getting up as well.

“Ah, must you? I was rather enjoying having you all to meself,” Jack smirks slyly.

“Yes, I must. Besides, we could get her drunk, I think that might be fun to watch,” you say impishly, pleading to Jack’s mischievous side.

Jack thinks about this. Slow grin spreads on his lips, “You like getting people drunk, don’t you? First Will, now Lizzie.”

You shrug, grinning. “Maybe. But they’re both in dire need of loosening up. I’ll be back soon,” you say and turn around, starting to walk towards the rum cache.

* * * *

Dusting off the sand from your hands, you stand in the small cellar looking around in inspective manner.

“There’s more rum in here than Jack could ever manage to drink in one night…” you say to yourself while looking at the various bottles in awe. Obviously those rumrunners have been out of business for a while already, judging from the thick layer of dust and sand covering the bottles and boxes.

“Bloody Norrington… nothing but trouble…” you mumble sourly as you grab a small wooden box with your both hands and hauling it off the shelf it was laying on to the sandy floor of the cellar. The box contains nine or so full bottles or rum, and you decide to take it back with you. Pushing your palms through the holes on the sides of the box, you lift the box up and start the process of getting the bloody thing up of the hole. After minutes of pulling, pushing and cussing, you finally get the somewhat heavy box up the cellar and exhale loudly.

Glancing around the darkening island, you try in vain to spot Elizabeth’s white under dress. She’s nowhere to be seen. Well fine, you’re not going to start wandering around the darned island in search of her! Jack seems much more pleasant company right about now, anyway.

Hefting the box up from the ground, you start making your way back to the beach. Occasionally, twigs and small pebbles pinch at your bare feet as you step around lush bushes and tall palm trees with the box held in front of your body. As you edge closer the place where you left Jack, you can see the tell-tale glow of fire between the thick foliage that blocks most of the view to the beach. Pushing various branches and ferns off your way with the box, you finally step on the sandy beach, walking towards Jack who’s sitting a safe distance away from the flaming fire, that’s actually resembling more of a bonfire, yellow flames licking the air several feet up.

You drop the box on the sand next to Jack, and sit on the other side yourself, the box between you. Briefly you wonder how Jack managed to create fire in the first place, but forget the whole thing just as quickly. The main thing is that you at least don’t get cold now.

“Took you long enough, luv,” Jack says, tossing an empty bottle over his shoulder, and you notice it was actually your bottle, one that you left behind. Oh well.

“Excuse me for the delay, oh almighty Captain,” you say with sarcasm, but Jack only chuckles pleasantly and takes a bottle from the box. You find it somewhat quirky that he’s feeling so cheerful even under circumstances such as these. But he is rather quirky personality to begin with, with all his idiosyncrasies and eccentric mannerisms.

You follow Jack’s example and take one bottle to yourself, uncorking it and taking a drink. Squishing the brown liquid around in the glass bottle, you think about all the things that have happened in such a short time. You never had any idea what you were getting yourself into when you stepped off the old boat in Port Royal few days ago. Your throat tightens suddenly as you remember the mocking way Barbossa spoke of your father and the fact that he was the one who killed him. Your knuckles turn white as you clutch the bottle tightly with your both hands, trying to get your emotions under control. Silently drawing in a deep breath, you let it out just as soundlessly. As you stare down at the silver rings on your fingers mutely, Jack clears his throat in almost awkward way.

“I’m sorry,” he says abruptly in deep voice, making you look at him with a frown. You have never heard him say that word; much less speak in such serious tone.

“For what?” you ask, puzzled.

Jack is silent for a moment, looking at you. Then he looks away, out on the darkened horizon. “For your father. I didn’t know it was Barbossa who…” he trails off, leaving the rest unsaid. “Bloodshot was a good man,” Jack concedes with undeniable sincerity.

You look down, struggling to keep your voice even. “Thank you,” you mumble.

“What say you… if we take this rum here, drink it all and get extremely drunk?” Jack asks slowly after a moment, waving with his hand at the box and grinning.

At that, you feel your gloomy mood lift and you laugh. Nodding, you look at him with a grin of your own. “Best idea all day, Jack.”

“That’s the spirit!” Jack crowes cheerfully, and you two clink your bottles together again and take a big gulp, Jack drinking a lot more than you, though…

A flash of white in the corner of your eye attracts your attention, and you turn your head to look there. It’s Elizabeth, walking towards you and Jack. Finally reaching the fire, she wordlessly sits down on the sand by the warming fire.

“Well, our lost little lamb has returned,” Jack remarks, taking another swig from his bottle.

Elizabeth looks both of you, and returns her eyes in the blazing fire. “I’m sorry I snapped at you. I really didn’t mean to,” she says finally in resigned tone, and you’re not quite sure whether she just apologized to you or Jack. But never mind that.

You look at Jack, who in turn looks at you, lips pursed slightly in questioning way. You shrug, nodding at the box meaningfully. Jack rolls his eyes, but nods slightly in return. You smirk and draw out one bottle from the box, tossing it carefully next to Elizabeth on the sand. She looks at it, then at you, clearly puzzled.

“We’re getting drunk. I suggest you do the same if you’re going to stand us for the rest of the night,” you tell Elizabeth with a smirk, who isn’t quite sure whether to believe you or not. Finally, she takes the bottle with a sigh, and much to your surprised, uncorks it and takes a drink, grimacing.

You grin, and Jack laughs a little. “Good, eh?” Jack asks Elizabeth, who stares at the bottle with a frown. “An acquired taste. Believe me, it gets better,” he goes on with mischievous chuckle, and you laugh. This could be fun, after all…

* * * *

You laugh uncontrollably. It has been a while already since you three started drinking, and now Elizabeth is drunk. She obviously has a very low tolerance, but then again she probably never has drank anything as potent as rum. You’re quite tipsy yourself, you know that, but so is Jack. But the more the merrier, right? It’s completely dark now, save for your blazing campfire and the white stars glittering on the sky.

Elizabeth got irritated when you and Jack started mocking the British upper-class people again, and with a frustrated “Oh, one can’t stand you two sober!” she started gulping down the rum rather enthusiastically. And now, she’s drunker than skunk. It’s really rather hilarious, in your opinion.

“Oh, don’t tell me that’s not the way those people act!” you argue playfully with Elizabeth, regarding the snobbish high-ups.

“Oh my, don’t tell me this is that dreadfully common chamomile tea! Somebody of my stature should be graced with something little more sophisticated! I have a very delicate stomach!” you mock with you finest accent, remembering one lady shout just this, probably to her servants, in Port Royal as you made your way to Fort Charles. You couldn’t have helped but to hear it through an open window as you passed by the building, that and the lady had a horrifying shrill voice than probably carried all the way to Tortuga.

Elizabeth opens her mouth to say something, pointing her forefinger drunkenly, but Jack beats her to it.

“But of course not, m’dear!” he once again joins you in his own accent, hands waving wildly as he talks, “This is that exported, highly expensive green tea you are so fond of, my darling. Let’s take our tea to the blue room, shall we? Why, I do believe we haven’t been to that wing for nearly three years!”

You giggle and laugh in merriment, but stifle your chuckles for answer. “Ah, dear, you know that blue makes my head ache so terribly! I have very sensitive eyes, do you not remember?”

“Ah yes, quite right, my dearest. How could I have forgotten your sensitive eyes and delicate stomach is beyond me,” Jack says snootily, and you laugh in earnest.

Collecting your wits, you grin to equally amused Jack, who drinks some more rum.

“Well, that was…” Elizabeth stammers, trying to be stern but failing miserably, “Quite down to the pat, actually!” she grins, and you chuckle.

“Let’s sing!” Elizabeth suddenly shouts enthusiastically. “And dance!” You look at her with wide eyes, surprised by her random exclamation.

“Dance! I love dance!” Jack cries just as ardently, and after a moment you’re all dancing around the bonfire, jumping and twirling around in quite drunken fashion, Jack still clutching his dear rum bottle.

“Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me! We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, and loot, drink up, me 'earties, yo ho!” Elizabeth starts singing, and you grin broadly as you recognize the familiar tune. You father taught you that when you were a kid. Joining her, you sing along, “We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot, drink up me 'earties, yo ho!”

Jack stops abruptly, and you and Elizabeth slam into him. “Wha’s that song?” he slurs with a raised finger, slanting head to the side inquiringly.

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you look at him. “You don’t know ‘A Pirate's Life For Me’? What kind of a pirate are you?!”

“Un…taught one?” Jack asks slowly, and you grin amusedly.

“We’ll teach you!” Elizabeth cries out, and in no time you’re all dancing and jumping around the fire again, singing together.

“We're rascals, scoundrels, villains, and knaves, drink up, me 'earties, yo ho! We're devils we're black sheep and really bad eggs, drink up, me 'earties, yo ho!!”

“I LOVE this song!” Jack enthuses, staggering drunkenly ahead and swaying perilously. “Really! Bad eggs! Woo…” he murmurs to himself as his balance starts to fail him and he slumps down to sit on the beach, a safe distance from the fire. He grabs Elizabeth’s wrist and pulls her down to sit next to him on the bonfire side.

With a last wild twirl around, you make your (rather unbalanced) way to the pair; it’s not fun to dance by yourself. Reaching them, Jack snatches your wrist a well, pulling you down on his other side. You notice Elizabeth has a bottle of rum in her hands now, and she takes a sip of the liquor. You also pay attention that she’s very close to passing out.

“When I get the Pearl back, I’m gonna teach it to the whole crew. And we’ll sing it all the time!” Jack plans, his hands waving enthusiastically along his words. You smile at his passionate words, thinking he probably would do just that.

“And you’ll be positively the most fearsome pirates in the Spanish Main!” Elizabeth slurs, and no sooner than she’s said that, her eyes slip shut and she passes out, slumping on the soft sand, sound asleep.

Jack looks at her, nonplussed. With small shrug, he turns to you. “One down, one to go,” he grins, golden teeth glinting in the fire. Casually, he slips his left arm around you, his palm coming to rest lazily on your hip. You raise your brow, but say nothing. It actually feels rather nice.

“Ah, but not just the Spanish Main, luv. The entire ocean. The entire wo’ld!” he says intensely while motioning with his hand, dark eyes wide. “Wherever we want to go, we’ll go, that’s what a ship is, y’know,” he goes on, voice softening, and you think you could just sit here for the rest of your life and listen to his deep, lulling voice. You sigh silently in contentment, and listen intently.

“It’s not just a keel and a hull and a deck and sails, that's what a ship needs…” he pauses, his free hand waving animatedly as he explains this, “But what a ship is… what the Black Pearl really is… is freedom,” he finishes solemnly, looking out towards the sea with a far-off look in his black eyes.

You smile sadly, knowing it’s paining him not to have his ship. Without a word, you press your head on his shoulder, inhaling his scent. Rum, salt water, and something that’s purely his own scent, a masculine scent. You smile.

“Jack… it must be really terrible for you to be stranded here,” you say quietly, feeling slightly sleepy.

“Oh, yes…” he admits, tightening his hold of you slightly. “But the company is infinitely better than last time. And the…the scenery has definitely improved…” he drawls.

You lift you head to look at him in the eyes, and can’t help but to once again notice how amazingly beautiful they are. The alcohol is wrecking down your defenses and lowering your inhibitions, but you try to hold on to the conversation. “I’m not sure I’ve ‘ad enough rum to allow that kind of talk,” you say teasingly, quirking a brow.

Jack grins slowly, and you damn the fact that he has to look so good. “I know exactly what you mean, luv,” he says, and takes off the arm around you. You frown, displeased. You didn’t mean he should do that! Jack curls his moustaches, taking on a comical expression, and you giggle. Now you know you’re really drunk; you rarely giggle. Taking the bottle Elizabeth dropped while she passed out, you raise it.

“To freedom,” you suggest.

Jack looks at the bottle, then at you. “To the Black Pearl,” he corrects, and clinks his bottle against yours. You both take a long swig, and Jack again wraps his arm around you. Sighing, you think about Jack and his ship, and your father and the Wraith. Determinately, you come to a decision. Raising your eyes to seek out Jack’s, you hold his gaze.

“I promise that I’ll help you get your ship back. I know how important she is to you, and you can still have the ship that belongs to you back. I can’t. But I’ll help you get yours, Jack,” you say seriously, and smile.

For a long moment, Jack gazes deeply in your eyes, staying silent. Then, a slow smile spreads on his lips. “Then, we have no worries, luv.”

You smile, and press your head on his shoulder again. You feel so very tired, and your eyes start slipping shut even though you stubbornly try to keep them open. You feel Jack leaning his head so that his cheek rests slightly on your head, wrapping his arm around your waist again. You smile into his shoulder again, loving the feeling.

“When I have the Pearl back… If you want to, you could join my crew, y’know,” Jack murmurs with slight slur in his voice, his breath ruffling your hair ever so slightly.

You smile sleepily, eyes closed. “I’d really love that…” you slur, and the last thing you hear before yielding to dreamless, alcohol-induced sleep is Jack’s deep chuckle.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 17 - Smoky Reminders

Grinning joyously, you dodge the patrons littering the busy streets of some small town on the southern coast of Cuba as you make your way hastily back to the meeting place you agreed with old Shadrach, a sailor from you father’s crew. You’d been staying in the town for almost a week now, waiting for your father and the rest of his crew to come and collect you. The Wraith was running low on supplies and water, and you had volunteered to go and barter a deal for the restock. Your father had insisted that old Shadrach was to go with you, although if you really got in trouble it made no difference whether or not Shadrach was with you. Your father had dropped you off at the little town and told you that he’d be back within a week. Then he continued his way to a destination unknown to you, for he never revealed it to you even though you tried your best to find it out.

Nevertheless, you’d managed to successfully barter a reasonable, and more importantly, low-priced deal for more food, water and or course; rum. Clutching the piece of parchment including the terms and details of the deal tightly in your hand, you finally arrive in front of the tavern close to the docks. Shadrach is no where to be found, even though he’s usually punctual. Sighing, you stand a bit aside from the noisy entrance, and wait. After a good while, when you’re getting angry at the old man for his tardiness, he suddenly stumbles out of the tavern and approaches you, wobbling drunkenly.

“Shadrach?! What the hell are you doing? Pete would keelhaul you if he knew you’re drunk while running an errand,” you scold the old man, irritated that he’d even think of getting drunk. This is very uncharacteristic of this particular sailor, and you wonder what brought this on. That’s when you notice the look on his face. He looks devastated, as if something horrible had happened. He suddenly looks a lot older than he really is, and that’s saying a lot. His eyes are slightly red, almost as if he’d been… weeping? No, that’s impossible.

“Shadrach? Is something wrong…?” you ask gently, stuffing the parchment in your pocket and holding the old man by his shoulders, as much for physical as mental support.

“Lass… The Wraith… your father…” Shadrach stammers, staring at you, his watery blue eyes slightly unfocused. “They’re dead. All of them, they’re dead!” he says in loud whisper, anguish written all over his face.

“What?!” you shout in rage, shaking the old sailor slightly, furious he’d even think things like that. “Who told you that?! You should know better than to believe all those bullshit tales that go around the taverns! You should know better!”

“I’m sorry lass, so sorry…” he chokes out, shaking his head. His eyes never leave yours. “The word’s someone attacked ‘em, blew the Wraith to bits. T’was some other pirate, a merchant ship happened to sail across the flamin’ remains… They’re all lost to Davy Jones… They ain’t comin’ back, lass.”

You shake your head in denial, speaking in freezing voice, “No. That’s not true.”

The lone tear streaking down out of the corner of old Shadrach’s eye is the last straw. He was a good friend of your fathers; he wouldn’t make up something like this. Your hands trembling, you let go of the man, taking a few staggering steps back. You can feel the stinging tears in your eyes, threatening to blur your vision. You have to get out of here, you have to… Without a word to the old man, you turn around and run away, towards the lush forests surrounding the shores of the town. You run, without knowing where, you just do. Tears stream down your cheeks, but you don’t bother to wipe them off. Branches and leaves slap your face and body as you push through the greenery. Finally, your legs are burning from exhaustion, and you collapse to the ground on your knees, finally letting the sobs wreck your tired body. You wail without shame, not caring if someone would happen to hear.

“NO!!” you shriek, fury coursing in your veins. Clawing the sandy ground, you throw stones, sand and twigs, anything you get your hands on, towards the bushes around you, screaming in anger. After the vehement burst you’re left tired and listless, you let your head drop down and cry softly, leaning one closed fist on your forehead. Everything you have and have ever known has been taken away from you in moments. As the violent sobs shake your boneless body, you can almost feel the smoke from the burning remains of the Wraith stinging in your nose…

With a violent flinch, you jolt awake from the dream that neared a nightmare of the three year old event. Your heart is pounding furiously from the disturbing dream, and you inhale deeply to calm yourself down. The last thing you need is to be reminded of that day. This is the first time you’ve had a dream about that in years; you used to have them plenty during some months after the Wraith’s destruction.

Your head is throbbing slightly due all the rum consumed last night, but you’ve had it worse. You slowly become aware of the fact that you’re lying on your stomach, your face half-buried in the sand. With a groan, you lift your head and realize your mouth is full of sand. Spitting the sand out in disgust, you also realize that you do smell smoke. Now very aware of your surroundings, you clamber up to your knees, squinting in the sun to see the cause of the smoke.

Jack, who’s obviously been sleeping next to you few feet away, wakes up as well, smelling the smoke. Scrambling up hastily, his eyes widen as you both look at the burning pile of boxes and barrels a distance away. Elizabeth throws in a small barrel, and it explodes with a burst of flames as it hits the pile. It was rum. Why the hell is she burning the rum for?!

“No!” Jack shouts, getting up and making his way towards Elizabeth and her little impromptu bonfire. The palms are on fire as well, the black column of smoke raising high on the blue sky. “Not good! Stop! Not good! What are you doing!?” Jack hollers in disbelief, hands flailing wildly as he runs after Elizabeth, who throws yet another barrel of rum in the fire. You get up as well, walking up to them.

“You burned all the food, the shade! The rum!!” he finishes in a tone that’s a mix of disbelief and distress, as he jogs after Elizabeth for explanation.

“Yes, the rum is gone,” Elizabeth says matter-a-factly, looking out towards the horizon.

“Why is the rum gone?” Jack demands in return, holding his hands in front of him. You look at Elizabeth with your hands on your hips, quirking a brow. “Good question. Why is the rum gone?” you ask in low voice. You don’t go and burn pirate’s rum, it just is not done!

Elizabeth whirls around to look from Jack to you, then back to Jack, narrowing her eyes slightly. “One, because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels! Two, that signal,” she begins, pointing at the black column, “…Is over a thousand feet high. The entire Royal Navy is out looking for me, do you really think that there is even the slightest chance that they won’t see it?!”

Jack holds his hands in front of his face, suffering look on his face. “But why's the rum gone?!” he insists, his hands making a funny motion in front of his face, spreading his fingers. You can’t help but to grin at his utterly unbelieving tone.

Elizabeth turns on her heels and promptly sits down on the sand, gazing at the sea. “Just wait, Captain Sparrow. You give it one hour, maybe two, keep a weather eye open and you will see white sails on that horizon.”

Great, just what you needed, for that pompous landlubber Norrington to sail in and save the day.

“Elizabeth!” you holler in frustration. “You burned up damn near half of the island for a one-time chance at being spotted!?” you shout in dismayed exasperation, your arms motioning around as well. Company makes alike, you guess.

“Exactly,” Elizabeth says shortly, not taking her eyes off the horizon. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly in aggravation, chanting ‘Calm down’ repeatedly in your mind. Opening them again, you watch Jack’s reaction.

Jack eyes have widened even more, and the clamps his closed fists over his mouth with comical expression. With fire in his eyes, he fumbles the pistol from his belt, draws it out and aims it at Elizabeth. Your eyes widen, and for a moment you think he actually will shoot Lizzie. Jack however thinks better of it and tucks the weapon back. With a furious sneer, he shakes his fist slightly and glares at Elizabeth’s back, stalking off and making his way along the beach towards the completely other side of the island. You stare after him, letting him go. He’d peeved, and rightfully so. Even when angry, his steps hold the characteristic sway, and if you weren’t so annoyed yourself, you’d smile at the sight.

“Well, I hope you’re satisfied now,” you snap at Elizabeth, even though deep down you have to admit the fire was a good idea. If only she’d left the rum alone. But the prospect of meeting Norrington again and enduring his condescending remarks is irking you endlessly.

“Do you have any better ideas then?!” Elizabeth argues back, her voice rising. “I’m sorry if I don’t want to be stuck here for any more days, just sitting and drinking that bloody rum!”

“Oh, excuse me if our way of having fun is too disgusting and common for you, my lady!” you sneer back, knowing that’s not what she meant, but you’re too peeved to listen to the little voice of reason in the back of your mind.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it! Stop putting words in my mouth,” Elizabeth snaps, frowning at you.

You narrow your eyes at her and turn your gaze out in the open sea, and inhaling silently in attempt to calm yourself down. This bickering is getting you nowhere, and this really isn’t Elizabeth’s fault. It’s Barbossa’s, really. You scowl venomously at the thought of him, the cursed murderer. He’ll pay for his deeds even if it’s the last thing you’ll do.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you,” Elizabeth says suddenly in mellow tone, and you raise your brows incredulously while looking at you. She is apologizing from you?

“What? No, no don’t be…” you sigh tiredly. “It’s me who should apologize from you. This isn’t your fault, and as far as I can see, you’re the only one who’s actually doing something to get off of this damned sand patch. So… sorry,” you grin weakly.

Elizabeth smiles in understanding. “Never mind, we’re all a bit on the edge, I think. Friends?”

You make an amused sound from your throat, smiling. “Friends. Cousin,” you add, your smile turning into grin.

Elizabeth smiles back, but soon gets serious. “My father might be with the search party,” she starts hesitantly, watching you.

You smile. “What, you afraid of what I might say to him?”

“No,” she shakes her head. “It’s just that he’s never seen you, and you look so much like your mother it might come as a shock to him. I think he knows about you though,” Elizabeth muses. “At least that’s the impression I have.”

You shrug. “I guess we’ll see that later, then.”

Elizabeth is silent for a moment, shifting uncomfortably and hugging herself. “You know, my father is the Governor of Port Royal… As a pirate, you probably know that you’re sure to be… hanged. Piracy is a crime,” she reminds quietly. “But maybe if I asked father, he might be able to pardon you,” she says, optimism coloring her voice.

You shake your head vigorously. “No.”

Elizabeth looks surprised. “No? What do you mean, no?”

“No, Lizzie,” you repeat. “I’m a pirate, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I don’t want anyone’s pity or mercy. If they’re going to hang Jack, then they are hanging me as well,” you state. No, you sure as hell don’t want to die, but you won’t be taking the coward’s way out. Your father would roll over in his watery grave if you would.

Elizabeth sighs and studies you, and finally nods in understanding. “I was afraid you would say something like that,” she admits quietly. “I just… I don’t want to lose my cousin now that we’ve finally seen each other again.”

Her sincere tone surprises you. You don’t exactly have friends many around anymore, and her quick acceptance of you is totally new and some what touching, even though you thought you’d hardened yourself in the past three years. Jack is the first person in years to treat you like an equal, like a friend. And Will is getting there, if he’d let go of his dislike for pirates. But still, you feel strangely loyal to Will too, and consider him a friend. Elizabeth is your cousin by blood, but that doesn’t mean automatic friendship. Nevertheless, here she is telling you that she doesn’t want to lose you. So, that would mean you have suddenly made three friends. Maybe I’m not doing so badly, after all, you think to yourself, feeling unexpected hope swell in your heart for the first time in months.

“That means a lot to me, Lizzie,” you smile sadly, and sit down next to her, staring at the brilliant blue sea. “But I can’t guarantee what happens next. And I can’t make any promises you won’t lose me. But I want you to know that it’s been great to know you, even if it is only for a short while.”

Elizabeth smiles sadly in return, nodding. “Same goes to you,” she says, and turns her gaze to the sea as well. You sit in silence for along time, before Elizabeth breaks it.

“So… you and Jack… you seem quite friendly with each other,” Elizabeth says nonchalantly, but you hear the question in the sentence.

You frown and turn to look at her. “That’s because we are friends, Lizzie.”

Elizabeth raises her brows, smiling in a way that suggests she knows something you don’t. It irks you. “Sure you are. I’ve seen the looks between the two of you.”

“What looks?” you ask incredulously, shaking your head slightly. “There are no looks. Well, maybe from his part, but Jack is… well, Jack. He looks at every female like that.”

Elizabeth snorts, very un-ladylike. “Are you really that blind? He fancies you.”

You smirk. “Lizzie, you haven’t spent enough time in the company of Jack Sparrow, or you’d know few things about him. One, he’s an incorrigible flirt. Two, he’s definitely not the type to get attached to one woman only. Three, any fancy he might have towards me is purely sexual; because the only lady Jack will ever truly love is his ship. He’s a pirate, after all.”

“Surely that’s not true!” Elizabeth objects.

You laugh. “Yes it is. But what about you, then? You’re the one to talk about these things. The certain young blacksmith is nuts about you and you haven’t noticed that before? Now who’s the blind one?”

“Will is my friend!” Elizabeth says ardently.

“Sure he is,” you say dryly, smirking smugly. Now she knows how annoying that is. You wonder how long they are going to play that “just friends”-game. That’s what damn near got you all in this mess in the first place. You both fall silent again, just gazing at the sea. Your thoughts dwell on the suggestion Jack made last night just before you fell asleep; he offered you a place among his crew. Tempting offer, but you don't dare get your hopes up. He was drunk when he suggested it and you were drunk when you accepted. You doubt Jack even remembers the whole thing anymore. Best probably to forget about it altogether...

You’re not quite sure how long you sit there lost in your thoughts, but Jack suddenly returns, swaying up to you and Elizabeth.

“Well, doubtless you’re pleased to know that your bloody cavalry has arrived!” Jack says to Elizabeth, and you look at him. He still seems to be a bit peeved, but he’ll probably calm down soon. You hope.

“Already?” Elizabeth asks, surprised.

“Yes, already,” Jack states in clipped tone, and you smirk.

“You’re getting a tad cranky…” you sing-song, repeating the exact words he said you in Port Royal while you were locked in the brig.

Jack whirls to face you, pointing at you with his forefinger warningly, eyes narrowed. You just smile. “Good to know your so happy to get together with our bloody friend Norrington again. He’ll probably be very happy as well when he throws us in the brig,” he says sarcastically.

You roll your eyes. “Calm down, Jack. The fact is that they’re soon here and there’s nothing we can do. We’ll get off the island, at least. And I’m sure you have some tricks up your sleeve to avoid the brig…” you say casually, trailing off and darting your eyes to watch Jack.

Jack’s sour mood evaporates in moments, and he puffs his chest slightly at your roundabout compliment. “’Course I do. I’m Captain Jack Sparrow!” Jack grins lopsidedly so that his gold capped teeth are revealed, and you hide your smile by absently rubbing your cheek with your hand.

Elizabeth grins at you, and then turns her head to look towards the way Jack came. Her mouth forms a grim line, and you follow her gaze. Sure enough, there’s Norrington and his trusty redcoats, about six or so, stomping on the beach, making their way steadily towards the three of you.

“Ah, our little convoy has arrived,” Jack marks as mariners, led by Norrington, come closer.

You stand up and wait, as does Elizabeth. After a moment, they reach you, and Norrington wastes no time. At the flick of his wrist, the soldiers train their rifles towards Jack and you.

“Elizabeth! Are you alright? I trust these… immoral villains have not harmed you?” Norrington asks Elizabeth, coming closer to her. Only now he seems to notice Elizabeth’s lack of proper clothing. With an appalled expression, he motions for one of the soldiers to give her his jacket. You notice one of the soldiers is Smith, the guy who arrested you in Port Royal. He looks at you, and you wink to him, grinning mischievously as he startles and evades your gaze.

“I am very much alright, Commodore, they have been nothing but friendly,” Elizabeth informs Norrington coolly, who doesn’t look very convinced. Instead, he turns to regard Jack.

“Mr. Sparrow, we meet again. How very unfortunate for you to be marooned here,” he says with a small smirk on his lips. “And I see your partner in crime is still tagging along with you,” he remarks, looking at you down his nose.

“How very observant of you. One can see you have obviously earned your rank,” you quip sarcastically and smile sweetly, although you really feel like punching him on his nose.

“Commodore Norrington,” Jack acknowledges with cheerful tone, as if meeting an old friend, and twirls his fingers in the air. “How nice of you to join our little expedition! I couldn’t help but to notice you arrived on the Dauntless, mate. Finally fixed the rudder chain then, eh?” he smirks smugly, which morphs into impish grin as Norrington’s smile disappears abruptly. You smother your chuckle, enjoying how Jack manages to outwit Norrington once again.

“Yes, well... Despite your slight head start, your aimless getaway is at an end. We’ll be escorting you and your companion back to Port Royal where you both have some unfinished business with the gallows,” Norrington informs coolly, watching both you and Jack with distaste.

“A-ha. Well then…” Jack grins, seemingly unperturbed, and motions with his other hand for Norrington to start walking, “…Lead the way!”

Norrington smirks. “Oh no, Mr. Sparrow. You first. I insist,” he says, nodding at the two mariners, who position themselves on both sides of him, leading him away. Two more mariners, the other of them being Smith, do the same to you.

“It’s Captain Sparrow,” Jack corrects automatically. “‘Ello mates! Haven’t seen you for a while. What’ve you been up to?” Jack, obviously recognizing them, asks the soldier on his left, and then looks at the one on the right side.

“C’mon,” Smith tells you as the other mariners start leading Jack along the beach towards the Dauntless, grabbing your upper arm.

“Ow, ow, easily bruised, remember?” you grumble, but comply and start walking along the sandy beach.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 18 - Isla de Muerta Revisited

“Elizabeth! I’m so relieved to see that you’re alright, darling!” Governor Weatherby Swann cries joyously as he rushes to meet Elizabeth, enveloping her in warm hug as soon as she set her feet onboard the Dauntless. You watch the happy reunion in silence alongside Jack, who seems rather bored, glancing around idly.

The soldiers are keeping a sharp eye on you, and you feel rather irritated. Like you and Jack would suddenly do something drastic, like trying to commandeer the ship or attack someone like the “immoral villains” you are. You roll your eyes heavenward at the thought. Yeah, you might be pirates, but you’re not stupid! Well, after all you’re not that stupid. But at least they haven’t clapped you in irons. Yet, anyway.

“Father, there’s someone I’d like you to meet…” Elizabeth says hesitantly, disentangling herself from her fathers embrace. The Governor seems puzzled, looking at Lizzie with confused expression. You groan inwardly. You really don’t want to be introduced, damn you Elizabeth! Couldn’t she just let it be? You really have no interest to get friendly with the Governor, never mind if he is your uncle.

Elizabeth turns towards you, calling your name. You sigh, and reluctantly acknowledge her by looking at her and the Governor. “Father, this is my cousin… Your sister’s daughter,” Elizabeth says, and the Governor looks at you with shocked expression.

You try to muster a smile, but it looks rather forced. “Uh, hello,” you manage to say, with a small wave of your hand. You think you must look really great, all dirty and scruffy. Like a pirate.

“So Melissa did have a child… you look just like her,” The Governor finally says, still in shock. You briefly wonder if it’s because of the fact that he just found out he really does have a niece, or of your rather bedraggled looks. That dunk in the sea can’t really be called taking a bath, can it?

You nod, not really knowing what to say. You finally settle to shrug and answer, “I get that a lot.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but we must be on our way if we are to reach Port Royal by tomorrow,” Norrington speaks up, and the Governor slowly nods his head in agreement, drawing his attention off of you. They start to walk towards the helm, and Elizabeth rushes after them, you and Jack trailing after her and the soldiers behind the two of you.

“But we must save Will!” Elizabeth says adamantly, trying to convince Norrington and his father.

“No! You’re safe now. We will return to Port Royal immediately, not go gallivanting after pirates!” Governor Swann objects and you roll your eyes. You notice you have a habit of doing that, especially when in the company of this lot.

“Then we condemn him to death!” Elizabeth cries in frustration, trying to make them understand.

The Governor stops, turning to look at his daughter. “The boy’s fate is regrettable… but then, so is his decision to engage in piracy,” he says solemnly, with a fleeting look at you, and you know he thinks the same goes to you. Too bad you didn’t decide to become a pirate; you were born one.

Elizabeth looks desperate. “To rescue me, to prevent anything from happening to me!” You hear the underlying guilt in her voice, and you realize that Elizabeth blames herself for Will’s predicament.

“If I may be so bold as to interject my professional opinion,” Jack says suddenly with raised fingers, stepping up to Norrington who rolls his eyes subtly, clearly fed up with Jack.

“The Pearl was listing near to scuppers after the battle. It’s very unlikely she’ll be able to make good time,” Jack says with a small shake of his head, talking to Norrington who doesn’t look too convinced. Jack goes on, tone tempting. “Think about it. The Black Pearl… the last real pirate threat in the Caribbean, mate. How can you pass that up?”

“By remembering that I serve others, Mr. Sparrow, not only myself,” Norrington says arrogantly, with a dismissive glance at Jack as he starts striding off again.

“Commodore, I beg you…!” Elizabeth pleads, passing Jack and looking at Norrington, “Please do this. For me… as a wedding gift.”

Your eyes widen at her words. Everyone is silent for a moment, considering her words.

“Elizabeth? Are you accepting the Commodore’s proposal?” The Governor asks in surprise.

“I am,” Elizabeth confirms, not taking her eyes off Norrington.

“What?!” you yelp incredulously. How can she even think marrying Norrington when she loves Will?

“A wedding!” Jack exclaims merrily, grinning. “I love weddings! Drinks all around!” Jack turns slightly, grinning at the soldiers behind him who do not look as cheery.

You elbow him on his side, and frown as he looks at you. “What? I do,” Jack tells you, and you shake your head. With a small sigh, Jack extends his arms towards Norrington, wrists together. “I know… clap ‘im in irons, right?”

You nearly chuckle, seeing how cute (you never thought you’d use that word about him) Jack looks, but instead turn your attention to Norrington, who looks very thoughtful. With a small frown, he finally speaks up. “Mr. Sparrow… you and your friend will accompany these fine men to the helm and provide us with the bearing to Isla de Muerta. You will then spend the rest of the voyage contemplating all possible meanings of the phrase ‘silent as the grave’. Do I make myself clear?” he finishes, looking from Jack to you.

”Inescapably clear,” Jack promises smoothly with a nod and quick smile.

“Crystal clear,” you say acidly, glaring at Norrington.

“Good. Then there should be no problem,” Norrington says coolly, and with a nod to the soldiers behind you, they start guiding you towards the helm, while Norrington, Elizabeth and The Governor go down below. Elizabeth quickly looks at you before you lose the sight of each other, and you nod and smile to her, indicating everything’s okay.

* * * *

You grab the railing you’re sitting on for support as the Dauntless sways over the waves, looking up. The sky above you has dimmed noticeably since you were escorted to the helm with Jack, who’s standing behind the rudder, turning it every now and then, correcting the bearing while taking glances at his compass. From your position on the railing behind the helm, you unobtrusively observe him again. He’s seemingly oblivious to everything else but the ship under his command, the sea rippling gently under her hull and the vast horizon stretching ahead of him. Like a true pirate Captain.

Tearing your eyes from Jack, you glance at the two soldiers keeping an eye on the two of you; Murtogg and Mullroy. You smile a bit as you look at them; they’re the most unlikely pair. Murtogg is somewhat easy-going and easily believes almost anything you tell him, but Mullroy is more haughty and by the book, and apparently eager to please Norrington. You decide you like Murtogg much better. They haven’t sat down, but stand rather rigidly on the side; out of the way but in close range in case you should try something funny.

Glancing back to Jack, you frown in thought and wonder what has comes next in this little plan of his. During the ride to the Dauntless in the longboat, Jack was unusually quiet, save for the few well timed witty comments for Norrington that left him very unable to retort smartly. When he gave Norrington his suggestion, you knew he had it all planned even before boarding the ship. Jack is the kind of person who thinks quickly on his feet and rarely leaves things unplanned. And his plans very often hold some kind of personal gain. Like he told Will in that cell; “I see no profit in it for me.”

Getting up from the rail, you stretch your legs and idly saunter next to Jack, so that he’s left between you and the soldiers watching you closely on the other side. After a moment though, they obviously think you’re not going to anything stupid, and start to quietly converse with each other.

Glancing at Jack’s stoical features as his looks from his compass to the horizon, you decide to ask him the question that’s been bothering you for a while.

“Do you think we’ll get there in time?” you ask with subdued tone, watching the horizon. When Jack doesn’t answer, you look at him.

He gazes at the horizon, kohl brimmed eyes narrowed slightly in thought. “Let’s wish for the best, luv,” he finally says, with a brief glance at you.

“And fear for the worst,” you finish, folding your arms over your chest as the wind blows behind you, tousling your hair.

“Aye. Still, we’re making good time. If the wind holds, as I think it will, it won’t take much longer,” Jack replies in reassuring tone.

You nod absently as Jack again checks on the compass, turning the rudder few points to starboard. The massive vessel responds in moments, correcting her course precisely where Jack wanted her to.

“What of Gibbs, Anamaria and the rest of the crew?” you inquire, suddenly remembering them. You hope Barbossa isn’t cruel enough to throw them overboard as well.

“No doubt thrown in the Pearl’s brig along with Will,” Jack says grimly, anger flashing in his now nearly black eyes. You fleetingly wonder if maybe they change hue depending on his moods. Jack looks at you again after a moment, and you pay attention that his eyes indeed are once more their usual deep brown color. “See, Barbossa likes to have a big audience to witness his glorified Captaincy,” Jack scoffs sardonically. “Real piece of work,” he mutters sourly, shaking his head slightly in loathing towards his former firstmate, the colorful beads jingling gently in his dreadlocks.

Thinking back at the time you spent aboard the Pearl, Barbossa did seem to be a bit extravagant in his actions, clearly making sure each one knew he was above everyone else. All the more reasons for you to hate his guts.

“So…” you begin, watching Jack. “After we reach Isla de Muerta… What comes next in your hopefully well-conceived plan?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow expectantly as you keep looking at him, still keeping his gaze in the horizon.

You see that Jack’s lips are twitching, threatening to pull up in that smirk you well know by now, but he manages to keep his face impassive. “Which ever plan are you talking about, luv?” he inquires innocently.

“Oh, please!” you scoff good-naturedly. “You had this all mapped out in your mind ever since we boarded, don’t even try to deny it.”

Now Jack does grin, broadly. “Fine. Pleading women usually do the trick for me, if you get my drift,” he drawls, tearing his eyes off the horizon and looking at you suggestively with raised brows.

“Your talent in finding innuendos in nearly every word is truly something,” you smirk, shaking your head in amusement. It’s amazing how he can makes cracks like these in the most unlikely times, even when things seem to be at their bleakest.

“Ah, luv,” Jack smirks, briefly glancing towards the horizon, and then returning his gaze back to you. “That ain’t the only talent of mine that’s truly something, you know,” Jack says smugly and meaningfully.

You laugh a little in mirth, and smile genuinely for the first time since you boarded the ship.

Jack studies you with his head tipped slightly to one side, grinning lopsidedly. “That's more like it. You were looking a bit glum there for a moment,” he says, satisfied. Turning his gaze ahead again, Jack turns the rudder again a little. “You should smile more often. It lights up your face.”

Much to your surprise and slight confusion, you feel yourself blush lightly at the sincere compliment. Obviously you’re not completely immune to Jack Sparrow’s charms, after all, never mind what you’ve told yourself. You hope Jack didn’t notice your reaction to his kind words.

“Charmer,” you respond with smile.

Jack grins and winks. “Always.”

You stand beside him for a moment longer, comfortable silence surrounding you. Then, you decide to leave Jack to navigate in peace, making your way back to the railing and sit down, looking at Mullroy and Murtogg on your right. They’re still engaged in some sort of quarrel, and you realize you totally forgot they even existed as you talked with Jack a moment ago. You mentally scold yourself for that.

Suddenly, your stomach growls quietly, and you are acutely aware for the fact that you haven’t eaten in a while. The rum you consumed last night effectively filled your stomach and lessened the feeling of hunger, but right now you’d pay to get something to eat. Deciding to at least try, you address the two men in their fancy red uniforms.

“S’cuse me, I was just wondering if there would be any possibility of getting little something to eat?” you ask nicely, smiling sweetly more to Murtogg than Mullroy. You gather he’s your best chance, here.

“Well, I could surely get you something,” Murtogg says pleasantly without much thought, but Mullroy glares at him.

“Stay where you are!” he tells Murtogg snappily. “We don’t need to feed these pirates.”

You narrow your eyes at Mullroy nastily. “Prisoners are entitled for nourishment during their captivity, sir,” you say in no-nonsense tone.

“True enough, but you are hardly a prisoner, miss,” Mullroy states.

“Oh, no? Prisoner is a person who is confined, and you and Mr. Murtogg here are guarding me and Captain Sparrow, armed with weapons and not allowing us to leave the helm,” you point out sharply. “Now, that seems like confinement to me, which would, logically, make us prisoners. So…” you smirk, “How’s about that food, mate?”

Murtogg glances at glowering Mullroy, shrugging weakly. “She does have a point.”

Mullroy turns his head slowly towards Murtogg, looking at him in exasperation. “Got get her something, then.”

“Right,” Murtogg nods, leaving the helm to search for some sustenance for you.

“My thanks!” you call after him, and throw a sugary smile at Mullroy, whose pride has obviously been wounded; to be outsmarted by a pirate in front of other people. Well, tough luck. You sneak a glance at Jack, and grin as you see that he’s smothering chuckles, masking them comically as coughs.

Mullroy narrows his eyes at Jack. “Do you perhaps have a comment to add on the matter, Captain Sparrow?”

Jack turns his head to look at the man. “Oh, lots… but doubtless they’d be wasted. No throwing pearls to pigs, as they say,” he smirks, glancing at his compass again and you laugh a little at his quip.

Mullroy is about to retort, but re-appearance of Murtogg shuts him up. Murtogg steps to you and hands you a white plate with two small apples and a banana. “This is all I could find,” he says slightly apolitically, and you smile reassuringly.

“No, no, this is more than fine. Thanksies,” you say as you take the place from him, and Murtogg returns to his post besides glowering Mullroy.

You set the plate on the railing and grab one of the green apples. An apple a day keeps the scurvy away, you think wryly and take a bite of the fruit, munching thoughtfully as you again glance at the sky. It’s getting dark, but then again you have sailed for a good time now. You guess the dreaded island isn’t too far away anymore, and swallow the bite in your mouth somewhat nervously at the thought of going in the dark cave and getting together with Barbossa and those cursed pirates again. Well, be that as it may, but there is no way you’re staying onboard the Dauntless, either.

You know Jack intends to go in the cave, and you’re going with him. They would otherwise undoubtedly throw you in the brig if you stay here, and you don’t really feel like picking yourself out of another one so soon. You notice to your surprise that you’ve almost eaten the entire apple; obviously you were hungrier than you thought. Taking the last bite, you throw the remainings over your shoulder in the sea, just as Norrington comes up to the helm.

You raise your eyebrows but stay silent, taking the banana and starting to peel it while keeping an eye on Norrington.

He steps next to Jack. “How much further?” he demands bluntly, and Jack rolls his eyes in return, turning the rudder slowly.

“Not too far,” Jack replies vaguely, sounding rather bored.

You take a bite of the banana, chewing slowly as you dart your eyes from Jack to Norrington, who now has an expression something like a mixture of annoyance and exasperation on his face, one that he frequently seems to wear when he’s addressing Jack.

“If you’d for once give me a straight answer, Mr. Sparrow,” Norrington says with controlled voice, betraying his irritation.

Jack smirks lazily, keeping his eyes in the horizon. “If the good Commodore would take a look ahead and see for himself. And it’s Captain Sparrow.”

You smile amusedly at Norrington’s expression as he does look toward the horizon and sees the outline of Isla de Muerta looming ahead, barely visible in the dark and with the ominous fog surrounding it.

“We’ll be anchoring here,” Jack informs, finding a suitable place for anchorage as Norrington leaves the helm. You take another bite of your half eaten banana, and pocket the other apple left on the plate. After a few moments, the Dauntless is anchored and floating still over the calm waters.

Jack turns and starts making his way down the helm, and you waste on time to follow, taking the plate with you. Finishing the banana, you throw the peel without thinking over your shoulder as you trail behind Jack as he makes his way towards Norrington. A startled yelp and a dull ‘thud’ behind you make you glance behind your shoulder. You see Murtogg, who’s desperately trying not to smile, helping Mullroy up from the deck where he lies sprawled on his back, your carelessly discarded banana peel at his feet.

You grin apolitically at Mullroy who glares at you. “Real sorry ‘bout that, mate!” you holler, and turn back around, catching up on Jack.

Norrington is giving orders to his men preparing the large rowing boats as you reach him, and he turns to regard Jack. “I’m assuming you are to come with us, Captain Sparrow. What of your friend?”

You open your mouth to speak, but Jack beats you to it, once again.

“She’ll be staying here,” Jack says, and you glare at him, grabbing his arm and pulling him closer so you can hiss in his ear.

“I’m not staying here with these swabs, Jack! I’m coming with you whether you like it or not,” you say evenly, very tempted to add “savvy?” but thinking better of it since you used it the last time in a similar argument.

“Now, luv, you honestly might want to reconsider…” Jack starts, but gives up after seeing your narrowed eyes.

“Jack, I’ve already been there once. And some help certainly won’t do you any harm,” you say in a way that leaves no room for arguments.

“Alright, fine! Guess there’s no arguing with you,” he smiles and straightens up.

“Damn straight,” you confirm with grin.

“She’ll be coming with me after all. You know how it is with women and making up their minds,” Jack tells Norrington with smirk, and you lightly kick him on his shin, making him look at you with confused expression.

“What?” he asks, perplexed. You just shake your head. He’s hopeless.

“If you’d get in the boat now,” Norrington says impatiently, and you roll your eyes, climbing in the boat after Jack and shoving the plate in Norrington’s hands, who looks at it, baffled.

* * * *

“I don’t care for the situation. Any attempt to storm the cave could turn into an ambush,” Norrington muses aloud and lowers his telescope as you sit patiently in the longboat next to Jack behind Norrington, Murtogg and Mullroy in turn seated behind you and Jack with other soldiers.

“Not if you’re the one doing the ambushing,” Jack interjects, leaning forward and setting his forearm on Norrington’s shoulder like they’re best pals. “I go in to convince Barbossa to send his men out in their little boats. You and your mates return to the Dauntless and blast the bejesus outta them with your little cannons, aye?” Jack suggests. “What do you have to lose?”

Norrington glances at the arm on his shoulder distastefully before pushing it off with the telescope. “Nothing I’d lament being rid of,” he says rather frostily, and you smirk. He’s really starting to grow weary of Jack, which makes this all the more amusing. When starting his flawless career in the Royal Navy, Norrington most likely never thought the day would come when he’d actually have to co-operate with pirates instead of delivering them to hang from the noose. Quite ironic, isn’t it?

“Now, to be quite honest with you, there’s still a slight risk for those aboard the Dauntless, which includes the future Mrs. Commodore…“ Jack trails off, not in the least put off my Norrington’s unfriendly behavior.

Speaking of Elizabeth, you hope she isn’t too pissed that you left without telling her or without taking her along. You watch Norrington who looks very thoughtful, weighing Jack’s words.

“Very well, Mr. Sparrow. We’ll do it your way,” Norrington finally agrees with a curt nod, and you get the strange feeling it was a tad too easy. “You and your friend will go inside the cave and convince them to come out. After that, we will take care of them.”

Jack grins smugly, satisfied. “I knew you’d listen to reason, mate.”

* * * * *

CHAPTER 19 - Botched Bloodritual

Déjà vu, you think absently as you sit in the aft of a small rowboat that Jack steadily takes closer to the mouth of the cave. The opening is just as dark and nasty looking as last time, mist floating in the air. Briefly touching the hilt of your cutlass to reassure yourself, you take a look at Jack, seated facing you in the middle of the boat, rowing calmly. He’s wearing a peculiar smirk on his face, as if he’s extremely satisfied in something. You can’t help but to smile yourself, albeit rather tentatively.

“Why are you smirking like a cat that ate the canary?” you finally ask him, as the boat slides inside the cave, darkness swallowing you. You have no light with you this time, but luckily there are small holes here and there on the roof of the cave, narrow shafts of light penetrating and illuminating it some.

“It ends tonight, luv,” Jack says, looking at you. “After all these years… it finally ends tonight.”

You nod slowly with a small smile upon your lips, knowing what he means. The thought of finally having his beloved ship back and revenge on Barbossa has to be uplifting for him.

“That it does,” you confirm quietly with lopsided smile, not quite a smirk. You’re not sure what’s going to happen once you reach Barbossa and his cronies, but you’re sure as hell not backing down now. No, this will be ended tonight, just like Jack said. You crave for your own revenge on Barbossa as well.

“What exactly are you planning on doing once we get there?” you ask Jack after a moment, as he continues to row.

“Simple really,” Jack shrugs, and even in the dimness of the cave you can see the carefree grin gracing his features. “Get in and take back what’s mine by right.”

That wasn’t really an exact answer, but then again you really didn’t expect a detailed explanation from him. Jack’s style of action is rather unique. The time you’ve spent observing him has been of some use; you’ve noticed he always has some kind of plan in his mind he tries to follow, but if something unexpectedly goes wrong, he plays it by the ear and makes things up as he goes along. His wits are unbelievingly quick, and not just in the verbal sense. But Jack doesn’t make a big deal out of it, on the contrary; he seems to lull people into believing he’s not really that clever and all there. That impression is efficiently brought on by his quirky, sometimes downright crazy behavior and unusual mannerisms.

In reality, Captain Jack Sparrow is very intelligent and knows exactly how to get thing to go the way he wants them. Add in the talent of reading people and manipulating them very effectively, he’s not a person to be taken lightly. His chat with Norrington just a moment ago in the longboat only served to prove the accuracy of that notion.

Pursing your lips, you remind him wryly, “Aren’t you forgettin' something?”

Jack thinks about this for a moment. “Right. And save Will,” he remembers some what sheepishly, and you nod your approval. You doubt he really forgot Will, just making light of the otherwise dark situation. Mentally thanking him for it, you glance around the dim cavern.

As the water level gets lower with each one of Jack’s pull of the oars, the slight nervousness you’ve felt in the back of your mind during the whole boat trip suddenly leaves you. Tilting your head to one side slightly, you wonder at the fact, contemplating your feelings closely. No, there’s not a trace of nervousness or unease to be found anywhere. You’re ready to face whatever comes across you in that cave, and you’re completely determined to see this one through. Maybe after the night is over, you’ll finally find rest over the deaths of your father and his crew. Maybe after the night is over, you will finally sleep in peace, knowing that Bloodshot has been avenged.

You’re right Jack, you think. It does end tonight.

You watch as Jack suddenly lifts the oars up so that they rest over the railings of the boat, letting go of the handles and whirling around on the seat in such a fluid movement you thought wasn't possible for him. In the same second, the boat’s bow slightly scrapes the bottom and finally stops completely as it hits the shore. In same graceful manner, Jack quickly gets up and jumps off the boat, holding on to the bow in order for you to get off safely. That's another notion about Jack Sparrow; he’s not nearly as clumsy as he lets people believe. You get up and step over the rower’s seat, stepping out of the boat onto the rocky shore. Together with Jack, you pull the boat slightly on the shore to make sure it’s still there when you come back. If you come back, that is.

“Alright,” Jack says, glancing towards the pathway leading deeper inside the cave, then back at you, raising his hands and pointing his forefinger at you. “Now, try not to do anything stupid… I know it might be hard considering he killed your father and all, but please try.”

“Hey,” you say incredulously, spreading your hands, “We’re talking ‘bout me! I don’t do stupid things.”

Jack just raises an eyebrow and smirks.

You shrug, rolling your eyes. “Okay, so I usually don’t do stupid things.”

“That’s better,” Jack nods with a smirk. “You ready?”

“Aye, ready as I’ll ever be. I say we go in and kick Barbossa’s fat rear to the next century,” you grin, and Jack chuckles.

“What’re we waiting for, then?” he grins, and together you start striding down the path alongside each other.

Finally you reach the juncture of the cave where you hid behind the bank with Will the last time you were here, and Jack cautiously slinks over, taking a look over the bank. You follow close behind, positioning yourself next to him.

“Right on time,” Jack murmurs quietly as you watch Will being dragged over the bank covered with various pieces of the treasure, where that damned chest filled with cursed coins lies. Barbossa stands next to the chest, on the left side, two pirates accompanying him. A dark-skinned pirate with dreadlocks stands slightly behind them, holding a torch; you search your memory and remember him being called Koehler. The other scruffy pirate with yellowish scarf tied around his head is holding Will in place, bending him down closer to the chest; you recognize him as Grapple. You recall the names of some other pirates standing around the cave; you had memorized them during the boat ride to the Black Pearl when the pirates had talked to one another, occasionally calling out each other's names.

Jack turns to face you. “Come on,” he nods towards the path leading down, and you nod back. You start to walk along the path swiftly, but just before you reach the end of the path Jack stops and turns around so quickly you almost hit his back again. Taking a step back, you look at Jack in confusion; what is it now?

“Just remember to stick close to me,” Jack says with a twirl of his fingers, “And keep a sharp eye out, savvy?”

You nod, and smile. “Savvy. Don’t worry; I’ll take care of myself.”

Jack grins. “That you do. Just a reminder, luv.”

A funny feeling takes over you, and you decide for once in your life to give in to your silly impulse. Just as Jack is about to turn back around, you call out his name.

“’Ey, Jack?”

He turns back to look at you. “Aye?”

Before you lose your nerve, you quickly stand on your toes, lean in and place a quick kiss on his lips, more like a peck, really. Drawing back, you smile slightly as Jack stares at you with one brow raised, small grin tugging his lips, questioning look on his face.

“That was for luck,” you explain with a small shrug, as if it was no big deal.

Now a full, slow grin spreads to Jack’s lips, his dark eyes glinting. You’re sure he’s about to make some wisecrack about it.

“Thank you, luv,” he just murmurs instead, the grin never leaving his face. You nod with small grin of your own, and without a word Jack turns around and continues his way along the path, and you follow. You loop your fingers on Jack’s belt as you trail closely behind him, as if afraid you’ll lose him if you don’t hold onto him. The cave is dark and damp, only light coming from the few torches lit along the cave here and there.

“Beg your pardon,” Jack says politely as he makes his way through, causing the pirates to look at him in disbelief.

“Begun by blood…” Barbossa’s voice proclaims ahead of you, as Jack pushes through the pirates crowding the cave, you closely behind him, holding onto his belt. You see Barbossa now as you take a peek behind Jack’s back, and he’s about to slit Will’s throat.

“'Scuse me,” Jack says as he circles around another pirate.

“…by blood un-“ Barbossa trails off in disbelief as he sees Jack pushing through the crowd.

“Jack!” Will cries out.

“’S not possible…” Barbossa mumbles to more to himself than anyone else as he watches Bo'Sun stop Jack, placing his hand on Jack's shoulder.

“Not probable,” Jack corrects with cheeky smile and raised hand, and you let go of his belt and step next to him, waving slightly to Pintel and Ragetti who stand on your right.

Will’s gaze flies from Jack to you and then back to Jack. “Where’s Elizabeth?” he asks anxiously.

“She’s safe, just like I promised.” Jack says, motioning with his hands a little. “She’s all set to marry Norrington, just like she promised. And you get to die for her, just like you promised. And the lass is here just like she promised,” Jack points his thumb fleetingly in your direction. “So we’re all men of our word really. Except for Elizabeth and luv here who are, in fact, women,” he finishes with a quick smirk.

You stifle your snicker at Jack’s longwinded explanation that’s accompanied by the typical hands waving. Barbossa, though, obviously doesn’t see it as amusing.

“Shut up!” he snaps at Jack. “You’re next!” Returning his attention back to Will, Barbossa lowers the knife on his throat again.

“You don’t want to be doing that, mate.” Jack casual, slowly drawled warning stops him, and Barbossa turn his head slightly to look at him with fed up expression. Jack really has a way with people, you think wryly.

“No, I really think I do,” Barbossa informs Jack sarcastically, turning back towards Will.

Jack shrugs, glancing around nonchalantly as if he had no interest in what is about to happen. “Your funeral,” he says just as indifferently.

You grin in amusement and Barbossa seems to think this, and then with a small slump of his shoulders that might have been an irritated sigh, he turns around again. “Why don’t I want to be doing that?”

Jack grins. “Well, because,” he stops, and looks down at Bo'Sun's hand still holding onto his shoulder with distaste, slapping it off and advancing a few steps. You inconspicuously inch a bit closer to Jack, putting some distance between you and the pirates.

“Because the HMS Dauntless, pride of the Royal Navy… is floating just offshore… waiting for you,” Jack says solemnly, gazing up at Barbossa.

This revelation is followed by a collective murmur among the pirates, and even Barbossa frowns.

“That so…?” Barbossa says slowly after a moment, narrowing his eyes in thought. “And what exactly are you hoping to gain from this, Jack? I know you never do anything without personal profit, you were always like that.”

Jack gestures placatingly with his hands, again taking few steps ahead, until he’s standing on the other side of the chest. “Just hear me out, mate. You order your men to row out to the Dauntless; they do what they do best,” The pirates mumble appreciative comments at this. “…Robert’s your uncle, Fannie’s your aunt, there you are; with two ships! The makings of your very own fleet,” Jack stresses the word slightly, and Barbossa slants his head to the side slightly as he listens.

While everyone is listening to Jack, you use the opportunity to sidle a bit to the right, staying clear of the pirates. The chest is now about seven feet to your left. Crossing your arms over your chest and shifting your weight to one leg, you continue to listen and observe.

“‘Course, you’ll take the grandest as your flagship and who’s to argue? But what of the Pearl?” Jack asks rhetorically, eyes widening a bit as he raises his hands in front of him, speaking in low, serious tone, “Name me Captain. I’ll sail under your colors, I’ll give you ten percent of me plunder, and you get to introduce yourself as… Commodore Barbossa. Savvy?” Jack finishes with a persuasive look at Barbossa.

Barbossa stays silent for a second, thinking about this. “I s’pose in exchange you want me not to kill the whelp?” he finally asks with a touch of sarcasm, glancing at Will.

“No, no, by all means, kill the whelp!” Jack says blithely. “Just not yet. Wait to lift the curse… until the opportune moment." Jack looks at Will as he says this. "For instance,” Jack starts again, looking at Barbossa while reaching down and grabbing a handful of the cursed coins. “After you’ve killed Norrington’s men. Every…” he drops one coin back to the chest, and you hear the clinking sound. “…last…” clink. “…one.” clink.

You frown as you see Jack wriggling his fingers, like he’d crammed something up his sleeve. You can’t really see from the distance. Will shifting slightly catches your attention, and you look at his face. He’s frowning, and you notice that he’s looking at Jack’s hands that are now free from coins. Before you get to think this further, Will speaks up in that accusing tone you’ve come accustomed to by now.

“You’ve been planning this from the beginning. Ever since you learned my name!”

Jack has a comical look on his face, eyes wide, looking downwards for a moment, then darting his gaze back to Will. “Yeah,” he says simply, with a small smirk.

“I want fifty percent of your plunder,” Barbossa says adamantly.

Jack takes on an appalled expression, his head jerking back slightly in dismay. “Fifteen!”

“Forty.”

“Twenty-five! And I’ll buy you a hat,” Jack quickly adds. “A really big one... Commodore.” Jack smirks, repeating the flashy title as a reminder to Barbossa.

Curiously, you look at Barbossa. He does seem to have a thing for big hats. For a moment, Barbossa stays silent, but then nods slightly.

“We have an accord,” he decides, and he shakes hands with Jack.

Jack grins broadly, and turns to address the pirates, arms spread to sides. “All hands to the boats!”

Barbossa glances at Jack sharply, and Jack grins sheepishly after realizing his mistake. “Apologies,” he says, clapping his palms together and holding them under his chin, in similar fashion one uses when praying. “You give the orders.”

You smirk at the sight. Once again you think he looks cute, which is really starting to worry you. You haven’t used the word “cute” since you were a toddler.

“Gents!” Barbossa shouts. “Take a walk!”

The pirates shout and exclaim at the prospect of a fight, and turn around, marching off towards the boats and the water. Only few pirates are left in the cave.

“Not to the boats?” Jack asks feebly at Barbossa, who just smirks back. It’s not a nice smirk.

Shit, you think. The soldiers will never stand a chance. The pirates are going to walk the seafloor! It’s going to be a bloody massacre, literally. But who’s to say Norrington is still in the boats with his men? You wouldn’t put it past him to forget about the whole thing and leave you all stir in your own mess. Well, Elizabeth would probably object to that, but there’s only so much she could do. But right now there are more important things to worry about.

You glance around idly; the treasure is littered everywhere around the cave, and your fingers are practically itching to rummage through the piles of gold, silver, pearls and jewels. Three pirates are left from Barbossa’s crew, and one you recognize as Grapple, and the other with long beard is Jacoby. The last one is tall and bald but his name is unknown to you. Then again you really don’t even care to know their names.

Jacoby is kneeling over as small crevasse on the rocky ground filled with water. There are many of those slicing the ground, some deeper than others. Whatever is he looking for there, you don’t know. Grapple and the third pirate lounge a bit further away, obviously more attentive than the one over the water. Jack, you notice, has wandered a bit further away, inspecting a pile of treasure more closely, lazily grabbing random pieces and turning them around, then throwing them back. Shrugging, you indulge yourself and snatch a string of pure white pearls, rolling them in your fingers.

“Obviously,” Barbossa’s somewhat amused voice floats in your ears and you glance at him to see who he is addressing. You quirk a wary eyebrow as you realize he’s talking to you. “…Your worthless father managed something right, seeing as ye didn’t drown.”

You grit your teeth at the adjective he used about your late father, but outwardly your keep your face passive. With a nonchalant shrug, you throw the pearls back on the pile and grab a beautiful, small tiara made from diamonds and emeralds.

“Well, it’s not like you didn’t try well enough,” you quip lightly, and on an impulse press the sparkling tiara on your head, grinning. “Better luck next time, eh?”

Barbossa hums, a sound that could have been a laugh. Or then not, who the hell knows. Suddenly, you remember the apple that’s still in your pocket. Deciding you’d rather face death with a filled stomach, you reach in your pocket and pull it out, taking a bite. Munching on it while you picking a golden pendant from the pile with your free hand, you glance at Jack. He’s seemingly oblivious to his surroundings, scrutinizing a golden statue of some kind.

Looking back at Barbossa and Will, you notice Barbossa is staring at the apple your holding in one hand. Quirking a brow, you look between Barbossa and the apple. What, the guy likes big hats and apples? This is really too much.

Smothering an impish grin, you take another bite, munching thoughtfully. Swallowing, you extend your arm towards Barbossa. “You want some?” you ask innocently.

You then throw the pendant away, placing your index finger on your chin, feigning to think hard. Pretending to suddenly remember something, you snap your fingers. “Ah, but I forgot! You can’t. Sorry,” you say rather insincerely, taking another bite of the apple with a smile.

Barbossa glares at you nastily, and you’re surprised he didn’t set those cronies of his to shoot you. Or do it himself. Probably thinks you’re not worth the shot. Barbossa just turns his attention back to Jack.

“I must admit Jack, I thought I had ye figured. It turns out you’re a hard man to predict.”

Jack tears his eyes from the golden statue he’s holding to glance at Barbossa, and throws it back in the pile with a clang. “Me? I’m dishonest. And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest...” he talks conversationally, slowly walking towards the centre of the cave that was crowded with pirates only a moment ago.

“Honestly. It’s the honest ones you want to watch out for, because you can never predict when they’re about to do something incredibly…” he stops behind Jacoby, still kneeling over the crevasse. His dark eyes search out yours, looking at you briefly but meaningfully. You nod marginally in understanding, and then Jack looks at Will. ”…Stupid.”

The next events happen very quickly. Faster than you expected, Jack grabs the hilt of Jacoby’s cutlass, unsheathing it and kicking the pirate in the process. The startled pirate falls in the water, and Jack wastes no time to toss the blade to Will, who grabs it deftly and cuts the ropes around his wrists, jumping down to fight the other two pirates charging at you.

Jack however, has already unsheathed his own blade and charges at Barbossa, also having drawn his own weapon. You know Jack that is an excellent swordfighter, and you almost feel sorry for Barbossa.

You draw out your own cutlass from its sheath. Will is engaged in a fight with one of the pirates, blades clashing against another. You quickly come to the decision Will is not too bad with a blade, either. Taking a quick bite of the apple still in your other hand, you take few hasty steps ahead to aid Will. Grapple advances you rapidly, crazy gleam in his eyes. Narrowing your eyes, you stretch your other hand back and flung the half-eaten apple at him, the fruit slamming neatly in the middle of his eyes with satisfying smack. You snicker in amusement as he looses his footing in surprise and promptly falls down on his face.

Your smile falters quickly as Jacoby gets up from the water and charges at you. Never mind that he has no weapon, he still looks quite formidable opponent. And you know better than to judge people’s fighting skills by their looks. Stabbing him with your cutlass does little good, so you promptly turn your back and run while trying to figure out something, the enraged pirate close at your heels. Spotting a thick staff of some kind sticking out from a pile of treasure, you get an idea. Now, you only hope that the staff is firmly buried in the treasure so that it holds your weight or you could be in trouble…

You run towards the staff, and grab it with your free hand as you pass. Jumping up a little, you swing yourself neatly around, making a circle around the staff. Suddenly, the parts have been reversed and now you’re the chaser. Jacoby has stopped in his tracks as you suddenly flung yourself around the staff, and you bring the hilt of your sword down on his neck with force, knocking him out at least for a moment.

You glance around the cave hastily, locating Jack and Barbossa locked in fierce fight on the other side of the cave. Relieved to see Jack standing, you run few steps back to the centre of the cave where Will is fighting his pirate, and notice that Grapple has long since gotten up and that Will is actually holding both the bald pirate and Grapple at bay. Running up to them, you block Grapple’s blade with your cutlass from hitting Will on his shoulder just in the nick of time.

“Want some help?” You throw to Will as you push Grapple further away, preparing for another attack.

“Well, I was doing just fine…” Will hollers back as he blocks Grapple's blade and slashes at him in turn, “…But if you insist, be my guest!”

You laugh in genuine amusement. Was Will actually developing a sense of humour? Suddenly, Jacoby with his two hatchets was coming at you, and you wonder how he woke up already. You jump back as Jacoby growls insanely and attempts to slash at your stomach, and quickly flick your wrist to swirl your cutlass in a circle that slashes Jacoby’s chest and stomach. He only laughs, when any normal mortal man would have had his stomach slit open vertically. You shake your head, and yelp as he suddenly lunges ahead again, both hands whirling the hatchets maniacally. Blocking and jumping out of the way, you retreat while thinking furiously.

Passing the various pieces of treasure on your way, you take few quick steps backwards to distance yourself from Jacoby, and pick up an ornament made from full gold that’s roughly size of your fist in your free hand. Jacoby, however, grabs both of his hatchets in one hand and digs up something from is pocket as well; it’s a bomb, about the size of his fist. Your eyes widen, and without much thought, you throw the statue at him before he even thinks about using the bomb.

Jacoby’s eyes bug out and he tries to duck, but is too slow; the statue hits his forehead with a dull clang. You wince yourself in empathy. Jacoby falls on his back, knocked out. The bomb rolls off his grasp to lie harmlessly on the ground. You allow yourself a smug smirk, congratulating yourself for having a good aim. So what if throwing things at people isn’t fair? You’re a pirate. You don’t have to play fair, and these scallywags should very well know that.

Will is getting the upper hand of the other pirates, and for a moment you think about offering him help. You decide against it though; Will can handle himself. Instead, you search Barbossa and Jack again. Locating them some distance away, you stare at them fighting, mentally cheering Jack on.

You’re unconsciously worrying your lower lip between your teeth as you watch them, and almost cheer as Jack knocks Barbossa’s cutlass from his grip, the blade clanking on the ground. You can see Barbossa saying something to Jack, and your mouth drops open as Jack thrusts his cutlass through Barbossa’s chest. Barbossa looks down on the weapon sticking from his chest, and calmly pulls it off.

The next event has been imprinted in your mind probably forever; Barbossa quickly turns the blade around and impales it in Jack’s chest. You eyes widen in terror and you gasp, clasping your free hand over your mouth, the sounds of Will fighting the pirate blocking out. One word keeps ringing in your mind; No! No, no, no, no, no! You watch horror-stricken as Jack staggers back a couple of steps, the blade driven deep in his chest. If possible, your eyes widen even more as the beams of moonlight streaming down the hole in the cave ceiling hit Jack; he turns into a skeleton.

You blink rapidly, thinking this is just something your mind cooked together to prevent you from going into shock or something. But Jack has indeed turned into a skeleton. How is that possible? That’s when Jack pulls out something from his pocket, twirling it in his fingers, saying something to Barbossa. It a coin. A cursed coin. He nicked one from the chest, you think, a slow grin forming on your lips at his cleverness. You follow as Jack pulls the sword from his chest just as Barbossa picks up his, and they fight again, now out of the moonlight.

Suddenly Will calls out your name urgently and you whirl around, your cutlass poised to defend yourself. Jacoby has awaked from his nap, and charging towards you with speed. You manage to sidestep just in time to avoid getting a hatchet buried in your shoulder. Cursing yourself for letting your attention slip like that, you strike at Jacoby repeatedly, forcing him into retreat. You force him back until you’re side to side with Will.

“Wanna switch?” you ask him amidst the fighting, looking at him briefly before blocking another one of Grapple’s strike.

“Sure, why not,” Will replies casually, sounding more like you’d be trading belongings or something. Smoothly you switch positions so that now Will is face to face with Jacoby and you with Grapple.

The pirate slashes at you with his cutlass and you block the blow deftly, but your muscles are starting to burn from the extortion and you’re beginning to tire.

“Sorry!” you hear Jack shout as he knocks over some things as he races down from the rocks, Barbossa hot on his heels. Soon they block and parry again until Barbossa collapses over a large rock, saying something to Jack. You’re too far and the clanging of the swords is too loud to hear what exactly. You sneak glimpses of them while fighting the pirate, and you see Jack shrug a little, replying to Barbossa. Obviously it was another one of his wisecracks, because Barbossa sneers angrily and gets up, trying to slash Jack with his cutlass.

With a small smirk at Jack’s antics, you forcibly push the pirate’s blade off yours. Getting really annoyed now, you push the pirate back and as he tries to cut you with his blade, you lock his blade up with your own, and swiftly kick him in the crotch. The pirate yelps in pain, crumpling in a heap on the ground, whimpering pitifully. You snort. Undead or no, they still have at least one weak spot!

You turn around to look at Will, and to your dismay, see him land on his back on the ground.

“I’m gonna teach you the meaning of pain!” Jacoby grumbles menacingly. Before you can do anything, a new, albeit familiar, voice speaks up determinately.

“You like pain?” Elizabeth asks, and slams a heavy staff at him, knocking the pirate down. “Try wearing a corset!”

You laugh. You have no idea how she suddenly got on the island, but you’re glad she did. “Go Lizzie!” You cheer with a grin.

Elizabeth grins back at you. “You didn’t think I’d let you guys have all the fun?” she asks mischievously as she helps bewildered Will up from the ground. Will and Elizabeth now see Jack fighting with Barbossa a distance away, who keep turning into skeletons every time the moonlight touches them.

“Whose side is Jack on?” Elizabeth asks in confusion.

“At the moment?” Will asks and shrugs, indicating he knows just as little as she does.

You look behind you and see that the bald pirate Will had at some point knocked out has woken up, as has Jacoby, the one you kicked in the crotch. Grapple, Jacoby and the baldy are arguing amidst themselves, and they all look pretty pissed off. And suddenly they are all charging towards you, Will and Elizabeth.

“Will! Lizzie! Some help here would be hot!” you holler while keeping your eyes at the attackers, levelling your cutlass in front of you.

“Duck!” Elizabeth yells, and you don’t waste any time obeying, dropping on the ground as low as you can. The staff whooshes horizontally over your head, Will holding on to one and Elizabeth the other end. Running towards the pirates, they slam the staff at them, stopping their advance. Dazed from the blow, the pirates stagger back, the moonlight hitting them. Will and Elizabeth act quickly, and push the staff literally through the skeleton-form pirate’s middle, stringing the three of them together. The pirate’s look down in bewilderment, trying to move ahead and then back again in attempts to get off.

Remembering something, you look for the bomb Jacoby dropped. Seeing it on the ground, you quickly pick it up and light the cord in a torch nearby.

“Will!” you yell, getting his attention. He looks at you and you toss the bomb at him. Will catches it easily, grinning as he gets your idea. Stuffing the bomb in the middle of the pirate in the middle, Will and Elizabeth push the pirates ahead, off from moonbeam, and retreat hastily.

“Not fair!” Jacoby cries feebly, just before the bomb goes off and they explode.

You sigh in relief, sheathing your cutlass. Jack takes the opportunity to cut his palm with his blade, smearing his piece of gold in his blood and tossing it somewhere over your head. The following events happen quicker than you can comprehend. Barbossa suddenly points his pistol at Elizabeth, and you’re about to shout a warning. A gunshot echoes in the otherwise now silent cave, and for one dreadful moment you expect Elizabeth to slump on the ground, bleeding. But Elizabeth doesn’t fall. You dart your eyes at Jack, and see that he has his pistol pointed at Barbossa, thin column of smoke swirling from the barrel.

“Ten years you carry that pistol and now you waste your shot,” Barbossa taunts him with a smirk, mocking edge in his tone. Jack’s expression doesn’t change.

“He didn’t waste it.” Will’s grave voice speaks up, and Barbossa turn his head to look at him. Only now you notice he’s standing next to the chest, holding his closed fist above it. Opening his fist, you see two cursed coins on his palm, tattered with blood. Will’s blood, and Jack's blood. Letting the coins fall, they make a faint clinking sound as they land on the rest of the coins.

Barbossa turns back around to face Jack, disbelief written across his face. His cutlass drops from his grasp, and hastily he opens the dark overcoat a little. The white shirt underneath has a crimson spot over his heart, blood slowly seeping from the wound and down his chest. He looks up at Jack, mouth slightly open. Jack lowers his pistol, staring at his former firstmate with grim expression, but you can see slight pity on his features as well.

“I feel…” Barbossa utters, almost in reverent tone. “…Cold.” With those words, Captain Barbossa falls down on his back, all life leaving his body for good.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 20 - Aftermaths

You stare at Barbossa’s lifeless body lying on the ground with mixed feelings. Isn’t this what you’ve wanted for years? To see your father’s murderer finally dead, to force his own medicine down his throat? Well, now you have it, right there at your feet.

Then why do I feel so odd?

The though repeats in your head, making you frown. You’re not one to feel glad about death, anyone's death, but you can’t help but to feel just a bit gleeful that Barbossa is dead. He was not a nice man, and certainly not worthy of your compassion. And, he was the man who cold-bloodedly stole everybody and everything from you just like that. You hated his guts for years, not Barbossa personally, but the idea of a man who killed your father, and harboured that anger with you for years. But you don’t hate this man lying at your feet that much anymore. But you pity him immensely.

He was a pitiful man. Doubtless he’d never experienced love. Not just the kind of love that’s shared between life mates, but one for friends and family. All he had was the ship he had cowardly stolen from another and a bunch of scruffy pirates that would turn their backs on him in moments for the right price. For that, you’ll pity him; that the only life he knew, at least on his latest years, was pirating.

And on the other hand, you feel thankful. Thankful that Bloodshot has been avenged like you had vowed, that you could finally let go now and move on. Thankful that Barbossa’s dead so that he can’t harm or kill anybody else anymore.

Sorting out all these feelings, you abruptly feel better than in long time. As if a heavy weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Inhaling, you let out the breath slowly and silently, smiling a little. Snapping you’re your thoughts, you glance at the others. Will and Elizabeth stand side by side a bit further away, obviously giving you and Jack some time and space. You turn your head to look at Jack, you see to your surprise that he’s actually watching you, his eyes giving away what can’t be read from his face; you could swear he seems to be a bit concerned about little old you.

Oddly moved by this, you smile slightly, letting him know you’re fine. “Well, it’s finally over.”

Jack nods slightly, taking a one last look at Barbossa’s body. “Aye,” he says solemnly.

“So… now what?” you ask softly.

Jack grins slowly as he turns his head to look at you, the light from the torches making the golden teeth glint faintly. “Plenty of things to see and check in here, luv,” he says lightly, and leaning closer so that only you hear him, “I say we look at the treasure a tad closer, and leave ‘em alone for a moment.”

You know he means Will and Elizabeth, and you smirk knowingly, almost making a crack about what a softie he really is underneath all that big bad pirate bravado. You however keep your mouth shut, and smile to yourself as Jack starts swaying in his typical way off to the other side of the cave.

Suddenly, Elizabeth is in front of you, throwing her arms around your shoulders and hugging you tightly. Surprised, you just stand there for a second, but return the embrace hesitantly after a moment, patting her back slightly. Having people hug you is a bit awkward thing for you, pirates don’t exactly hug anyone and you never really got used to such affectionate gestures.

“I told you it would be solved someday,” Elizabeth whispers to you as she hugs you, reminding you about her words she said on the island.

“So you did,” you whisper as you pull back from the embrace. “Well, cousin! You are obviously made from sterner stuff than your fancy gowns let on,” you grin, meaning the way she handled herself in the fight.

She punches you lightly on your upper arm, frowning in mock-anger, and you let out a small laugh. You look at Will and then back at Elizabeth, and decide to give them some time alone. You catch Will gaze and nod towards Elizabeth. “Talk to her,” you mouth, and he smiles back, nodding.

With a smile of your own, you start trudging towards the narrow opening between two boulders that lead into a bigger area, filed with more treasure. Jack is standing there, picking up different artefacts and examining them closely. With an amused eye-roll, you saunter next to him. With your back turned towards the treasure, you lean slightly against the stones Jack’s standing in front of, half-heartedly glancing back at Will and Elizabeth who are talking softly to each other. Honestly, if those two won’t stop beating around the bushes soon enough, you’ll go crazy.

“You fight with style, don’t you?” Jack’s amused voice makes you turn your head to your left and look at him, puzzled. He’s smirking, his gaze are travelling over the golden artifacts laid in front of him.

You watch his smirk with a confused frown. “What?”

Jack looks at you for a moment, dark eyes glinting with amusement. With a brief nod at your head, he returns his attention to the treasure.

“Oh, this!” you remember, reaching for the tiara still over your head. Removing it carefully, you take it in both hands and look at it. “I had forgotten all about it...”

The headband was so light you truly had forgotten it, and the fight might have had something to do with it also. The sparse light in the cave hits the several diamonds embedded in the silver band, the skilfully crafted loops in the middle decorated with deep green emeralds littered among the clear diamonds. It was simple, but truly a beautiful piece, one meant to adorn the head of a little more sophisticated and wealthier woman than a pirate like you.

Turning around so that you’re facing the treasure as well, you drop the tiara over the piles of gold and silver, glancing briefly back to Will and Elizabeth. Jack picks up a golden statue that’s rather ugly in your opinion. He inspects it closely for a moment, turning if around in his hands. Finally coming to a decision, he looks at it with blank expression, shrugging ever so slightly and tossing it over his shoulder carelessly. You wince as the statue lands with a loud clatter, and turn to look at Will and Elizabeth. They’re both staring at you and Jack, wondering what the noise was. You grin apolitically, twirling your raised forefinger in “go on”-motion. Elizabeth smiles a little, looking towards the ground as Will shakes his head a bit, turning back to face Elizabeth and resuming their conversation.

“I really wish those two would just get it over with,” you say absently, shaking your head. “All that tension is making me crazy,” you finish in a mumble, rolling your eyes while looking back at the treasure.

“Are you sure you’re talking about Will and Lizzie, luv?” Jack asks in sly tone, looking at you with a mischievous grin and suggestive gaze.

You smile while letting your eyes travel across the golden goblets standing on the rocks in front of you. Finally darting your gaze back to Jack, you unconsciously smirk in flirtatious way.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you drawl. Only then you become aware that you’re actually flirting with him, and you’re even more surprised to notice you’re even enjoying the good-natured banter between the two of you.

Jack chuckles; it's a pleasant, deep sound. Then he turns his attention back to the gold. “Sassy,” he mutters under his breath in appreciative manner, and a quick smile pulls the corners of your mouth up. He picks up strings of pearls, looping them around his neck. His eyes widen slightly and he grins, reaching for something in the gold pile. Jack pulls out a golden crown, decorated elaborately with rubies, free from the pile. After a quick scrutiny, he presses the crown on his head with an impish grin.

“Quite a swanky trinket, eh?” Jack grins, pushing at the crown with his forefinger so that it sits rather lopsidedly on his head.

You hum in amusement. If Jack calls that a trinket, you’d love to see his definition of first-class jewellery. “Understatement of the century, says I. Looks rather nice on you, though,” you muse, placing a finger on your jaw in thoughtful manner.

Jack just grins broadly, the golden teeth glinting in the torchlight nearly as brightly as the crown. Continuing to hoard as many precious things as possible, Jack stuffs coins in his pockets and slips some more pearls around his neck and shoulders. You pick up a simple silver ring, crafted skilfully in a figure of two serpents entwined, creating the circle-shape of the ring. You slip it on your finger, and it fits perfectly. Deciding to keep it, you glance at Jack.

He’s looking at you with blank expression. “That’s it?” he asks dubiously. When you shrug in response, he shakes his head, dropping the goblet he was holding and picking up the tiara you discarded before. With sure but careful movements, he presses the tiara back on your head to rest on your tresses.

“Much better... Goes well with the color of your eyes,” he murmurs, grinning slightly as his dark gaze darts from your eyes to the tiara and back again, and you smile back. Satisfied, Jack turns back to the treasure, picking up the same goblet he dropped a moment ago. Then, he crouches down and picks up a small chest under his right arm, standing up.

“That one doesn’t have a curse on it as well, does it?” you ask sarcastically.

“Well, at least we have previous experience on how to break ‘em if it does,” Jack says care-freely with a smirk, and you shake your head in amusement. As you start to stroll alongside him towards Will and Elizabeth, you frown slightly as you catch Will’s words to Elizabeth.

“Your fiancé will want to know you’re safe,” Will tells her with a strained voice, obviously paining him to say this.

Elizabeth gazes at Will for a moment, looking slightly pleading, as if waiting for him to say something else. Then she turns away, striding towards the pathways leading to the boats, leaving Will to stare after her. You stifle your exasperated sigh. If they keep this up, they will never get together.

Jack strolls next to Will, holding up the hand that clutches the goblet and pointing with his forefinger. “If you were waiting for the opportune moment… that was it,” he informs Will with a brief glance at him. You keep quiet, thinking Will probably doesn’t want to hear any more comment along those lines.

“Now if you’ll be so kind, I’d be much obliged if you’d drop me off to my ship,” Jack goes on evenly, starting to stagger after Elizabeth.

With a sympathetic look at Will, you follow Jack, Will starting to trail after you silently. The walk to the boats seemed a lot longer when you hurried to save Will with Jack not even and hour ago. The longboats of the damned pirates are still floating by the shore, as are the two rowboats; the one you and Jack came in and the one Elizabeth obviously came in. You don’t miss the looks they give yours and Jack’s newly acquired headbands; Liz seems somewhat amused, Will somewhat affronted you’d actually take anything from the cave. Well hey, they’re finders keepers.

Elizabeth finally climbs in the first rowboat as Will holds onto the bow so that the boat doesn’t quake under her steps. She sits down in the aft, and Will motions you to go next. You’re too tired and just nod, climbing in the boat and sitting beside Elizabeth. Jack throws the goblet on the bottom of the boat, grabbing the bow.

“’S yer turn to row, mate,” Jack smirks, and Will rolls his eyes but lets go, stepping in the boat and sitting on the rowers seat. Jack lifts one leg on the small seat in the bow, pushing the boat off the shore with his other leg still on the stony shore. Sitting down, he places the small chest at his feet, grinning in near inane way.

Will starts to row swiftly, and your mind starts to wander as you absently gaze in the water. Jack is again the Captain of the Black Pearl, and you’re truly happy about that. Nothing is more important to him than his beloved ship, and you understand that completely. But what’s going to happen to you now? You were not sure if Jack was interested in having you in his crew.

As the small boat speeds closer to the opening of the cave, you feel Elizabeth flinching slightly beside you. Puzzled, you turn to look at her. She looks worried and saddened at the same time, biting her lower lip a little.

“Jack?” she calls, her voice somewhat tentative. You frown; what was going on, now?

“Aye?” Jack acknowledges, but not taking his eyes off the goblet he’s turning around in one hand.

“It’s about the Black Pearl…” she starts, and Jack’s head snaps up instantly, his expression sober.

“What about her?” he demands, staring at Elizabeth intently.

“It- she,” Elizabeth corrects, “Is not here anymore,” she blurts out, and at Jack’s hard look, hurries to elaborate. “I rowed to the Black Pearl and freed the crew from the brig, and they took control of her from Barbossa’s men. I tried to convince them to help me and come to the island to help you, honestly I did, but…” she sighs, shaking her head sorrowfully. “They would have none of it. They just said you owed them a ship and they had the code to consider… I’m sorry, Jack.”

You blink, taking in this new development. Will stops rowing for a moment, obviously taken aback by this as well. A sudden anger surges in you; how could have they left their Captain behind just like that? You clench your fists resting on your lap but keep quiet, glancing at Jack.

Jack considers this silently, head held up high but eyes cast downwards. Finally he nods slowly, in subdued manner. “They done what’s right by them. Can’t expect more than that,” he says indifferently, but there's underlying disappointment in his voice.

Inhaling slowly, Jack reaches up and takes off the elaborate crown, looking at it for a minute. Then without a word, he extends his arm to the side, over the water, and let’s the crown slip from his grasp into the dark waters. He repeats the same to the numerous pearls around his neck, and the goblet.

Propping your elbows on your bent knees, you lean your forehead on your hands and close your eyes. Something in Jack’s despondent expression strikes a cord in you, and your throat feels painfully tight; his happiness over retrieving his beloved ship and his freedom had abruptly changed into saddened disappointment in seconds. This seems so very unfair to you. And now what? To the brig for the two of you, getting shipped back to Port Royal for your hanging?

You hear a slightly bigger splash and you know that was the chest that Jack brought with him hitting the water. Sighing quietly, you lift your head and open your eyes. Will has now rowed the ship out of the cave, and the dauntless is looming ahead of you. Knowing you’d rather throw the beautiful tiara away than let Norrington confiscate it, you reach for the headband and take a one last look at it. Then you reach your hand over the side of the boat, slipping the tiara in the sea. As you turn back, Elizabeth takes your hand into hers and squeezes a little in support. You give her a small, sad smile and nod in thanks.

Elizabeth sighs, looking over at downcast Jack. “I’m sorry, Jack,” she says again, but Jack doesn't reply. Silence falls over the boat, and Will continues to row towards the Dauntless.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 21 - Back to the Brig

By the time you reach The Dauntless, Jack’s mood has lightened a bit from his disheartened outlook moments ago. He seems now quite like his normal (or abnormal, how ever one wishes to put it) self, the typical air of subtle nonchalance around him as the four of you finally set feet on the deck after climbing the Jacob's ladder up from the rowboat. Few mariners are by your side immediately, mainly keeping a close eye on you and Jack.

Ah, rest of Lizzie’s little fan club have arrived, you think wryly as you see Commodore Norrington already striding towards your little group with Governor Swann in tow.

“Elizabeth,” Norrington says as he stops, relief evident in his voice. “Mr. Turner. Good to see you looking well,” he acknowledges, sounding somewhat insincere.

Will nods curtly from his place close to Elizabeth. “Thank you, Commodore.”

“What on earth were you thinking, Elizabeth? Leaving the ship like that,” Governor Swann suddenly steps forward, addressing his daughter.

“I could hardly just wait around idly, despite someone’s best efforts,” Elizabeth replies, throwing a slight glare at Jack, who just smirks in return.

“Well, Mr. Sparrow, it seems like you are again staying with us for a moment. After all, I don’t see your ship anywhere,” Norrington says with slighting edge in his tone, and you narrow your eyes at him.

“Ah, yes. I thought I’d grace this boat with my presence yet a moment longer,” Jack counters suavely with a charming grin.

“Indeed,” Norrington replies dryly, glancing at the soldiers. “Please escort Mr. Sparrow and his friend below and lock them in the brig. They are to stay there until we reach Port Royal.”

You sigh as the soldiers come closer, and Elizabeth takes a step forward. “Honestly Commodore, is that really necessary?” she protests, stepping in front of him. “Where would they escape? Or are you afraid they would possibly start some sort of trouble? Please, don’t do this.”

Norrington regards Elizabeth with an understanding expression. “I understand that they are your… friends,” he starts, the word “friends” sounding rather forced, “But I’m afraid a pirate will always a pirate, no matter what the circumstances. They are involved in serious illegal activities, and are to be punished by the law for their actions like every other criminal.”

“Elizabeth, please, be rational about this,” Governor Swann pleads, lightly taking her hands in his.

“Sir, if I may,” Will suddenly speaks up, glancing from the Governor to the Commodore. “They undoubtedly saved my life in that cave! Isn’t locking them up a bit excessive? Please show them some compassion.”

“Compassion? Towards pirates? That’s the most absurd notion I’ve ever heard of! Once again you forget your place, Mr. Turner. Need I remind you that your credibility is just as much debatable, here? Commandeering a ship from the Royal fleet is illegal and can be seen as an act of piracy, as I’m sure you are well aware of the fact.”

“At this point I’m obliged to remind you that the said ship’s rather unfortunate fate was in no way our fault,” Jack interjects with a raised finger, and you smirk briefly in amusement before returning your attention to the clash between Will and Norrington.

Will frowns, his brown eyes flashing. “I am aware of the fact, sir. I’m also aware of the fact that I had to do something to aid Elizabeth instead of sitting and twiddling my thumbs.”

Your smirk grows at this, and you feel like cheering Will on. A silence ensues at Will’s defiant comment, and you raise a brow, waiting for the Commodore’s reply.

Jack also looks back and forth between the two men, his hands held characteristically in front of him, wrists limp. “Well, this is interesting…” he mutters under his breath.

Norrington takes on a hard look. “Are you suggesting we were sitting and twiddling our thumbs, then, is that what you are saying, Mr. Turner?”

“How observant of ‘im,” you mumble quietly to yourself.

“Commodore, please,” Elizabeth speaks up, her tone asking him to back off. “Will…” She says, looking at him pleadingly. Will’s gaze softens as he looks at her, and he nods shortly.

“Calm down, all of you,” the Governor settles. “Petty quarrels are not needed now. Both Elizabeth and young Turner are safe and sound, and we can return home.”

Norrington seems still a bit annoyed, but manages a short, albeit insincere smile. “Yes. You are of course right, Governor Swann. But I still must insist that the pirates are to be taken below.”

The Governor sighs, and turns to face Elizabeth, looking sympathetic. “I think it would be the best, darling. We shall set sail immediately; it will not be a long trip.”

Whopee, you do so hope to be there in a hurry and get that noose fitted around your neck... Not.

Without another word, the soldiers start leading you and Jack below the deck towards the brig. You notice that it’s indeed your old friend Mr. Smith that’s walking beside you as you trail after Jack and the two soldiers walking with him.

“Why, good evening, Smith! Long time no see, eh mate?” you ask jovially at the young soldier as you walk, and absently wonder how old he actually is. You bet he’s probably younger than Will, still wet behind his ears. Much to your amusement, he seems uncomfortable by your sudden interest, and doesn’t reply.

“What’s the matter? You’re awfully quiet. Last time we did this, we had such a pleasant conversation,” you go on airily, and the youngster seems even more squeamish.

Jack chuckles, briefly looking over his shoulder at you. “You chummy up redcoats frequently, luv?”

“Oh, Smith and me go way back. Ain’t that right, Smithy?” you ask Smith, smiling sweetly and winking.

Smith’s reply is a faint blush and a frown, and he again grabs your upper arm, a bit too tightly than necessary.

“Ouch. I had forgotten you like it rough, don’tcha?” you say slyly, and Jack turns his head, grinning at you.

“Watch it, luv. Your gettin’ the poor boy all excited.”

You laugh, and Smith tugs your arm exasperatedly. “If you’d move along, miss!”

“Ha! You heard that, Jack? He called me a miss,” you point out smugly, and Jack shakes his head.

“Aye, young people. Can’t blame ‘em for making mistakes,” Jack answers smoothly.

“Ain’t that the truth,” you grumble as Smith again yanks at your arm lightly, and you throw a glare at him. Much to your surprise, he seems to falter a bit under your gaze and lightens his grasp of you’re a bit. You shrug, and fix your eyes on Jack’s back again. An appreciative grin forms on your lips as your gaze involuntarily slides downwards, lingering there for a moment until you tear it up again. Great going, you think to yourself in wry amusement. We’re getting thrown in the brig again and all you can do is to stare at his rear. Oh well, what else is there to do? Besides, it is a nice rear to be looking at. You figure you’ve deserved a discreet look or two after all this shit with Barbossa and everything.

After finally descending down below, after many turns and stairs, you arrive to the cellblock. There are two rather large cells, and one of the soldiers opens the door to one of them. Ushering you and Jack inside, they slam the door shut, turning the key in the heavy lock. With a click, it seals you inside, and the soldiers make their way towards the entrance without a backwards glance.

“Bye Smithy, I’ll see you around!” you holler after them, sniggering as Smith looks back with something like a mixture of exasperation and awkwardness. Then they disappear from your view, and you look around the cell. It’s bigger than the cells in the Pearl, and you’re glad that the floor isn’t flooding. There is also a wooden bench leaning against the hull inside the cell you are in, much to your surprise. Few oil-lamps are lit, situated near the entrance, but it’s still rather dim. With a stifled sigh, you turn around and lean your back against the door and slide down until your rump hits the floorboards, your knees drawn up.

“I’m mildly surprised they dared to put us in the same cell,” Jack drawls as he swaggers over the bench, sitting down and crossing his hands behind his head. “Stuck in here, all by ourselves… who knows what kind of lusty romp we could be having,” he grins broadly, looking at you suggestively.

You blink once. Twice. “Lusty romp…?” you repeat slowly, struggling to keep your face blank. Finally the amused smirk breaks free, and you can’t stifle your chuckles, your shoulders shaking from laughter. “No, Jack,” you manage to choke out between laughs.

Jack rolls his eyes, sighing in exasperation. “You try to be romantic and this is what you get in return…” he mutters, shaking his head. “Women.”

His complaining mutter only serves to amuse you even more and you place your lightly fisted hand in front of your mouth in effort to stop sniggering. After getting a hold of yourself, you remove the hand from your mouth, taking a breath.

“Sorry, Jack, but that was hardly romantic,” you smirk, and Jack looks at you almost incredulously.

“What do you mean? We have the mood-lighting,” he says, nodding towards the lamps by the entrance, then grins very self-assuredly. “And we have me. What could possibly be more romantic?”

You laugh quietly. “Alright, valid points. But if you think the words ‘lusty romp’ are the way to get me, or any other woman, under you, you have a lot to learn,” you quip with a small smile.

“Interesting, I thought you wanted to be on top,” Jack grins smugly. “But that’s alright. Share and share alike, I’m all for variation.”

You roll your eyes, propping your forearms over your knees. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Jack.”

“Well, since I’m not having any cheering up, I think I’ll get some shut-eye instead. I don’t know about you luv, but I’m beat,” Jack say resignedly, and promptly straightens his frame over the bench, lying on his back. Crossing his arms under his head, he closes his eyes.

You quirk your brow. “Are you seriously going to sleep?”

“Why?” Jack murmurs lazily without opening his eyes, but with a smirk on his lips. “You re-considering that romp?”

Darting your eyes quickly upwards and then back to Jack in subtle exasperation, you sigh. “No.”

“Mores the pity,” Jack hums. “There’s nothing else we can do, then. Besides, it’s going to be a busy few days ahead, with getting hanged and all that.”

You shake your head, lifting your chin and gazing up at the patterns of the wooden ceiling. “You’re amazing,” you mutter in slight bemusement.

“I know that, darling.” You can just hear the grin in his voice.

You just smile to yourself, your eyes wandering idly across the ceiling, and you notice you’re pretty tired yourself, too. It has been a hell of a ride since you left Tortuga on the Interceptor, and there hasn’t really been time to rest properly. And here you are now, days later, on your way back to Port Royal to meet your fate. Well, at least you have some company. Feeling your lids suddenly get heavier in the dimness of the cell, you come to the decision there really is nothing you can do about the situation now. Settling down, you lay down on the floor on your side, your back towards the cell door, with one arm propped underneath your head serving as a pillow. Closing your eyes, you exhale silently as the sleep overtakes your exhausted mind in moments.

* * * *

Your eyelids start fluttering open as sleep eludes you. You start becoming aware of your surroundings, and of the numbness of your arm that’s still under your head. Taking a deep breath, you blink the sleep from your eyes.

“Morning, luv,” Jack says as he notices that you’re awakening. “At least I think it's morning,” he adds as an afterthought.

Pushing against the floorboards with you free hand, you lift yourself up into sitting position, rubbing your numb arm. “How long have you been up?” you ask Jack, who smirks brazenly.

“You want a serious answer or a cheeky answer?”

“Jack...” you growl warningly. You’re not capable of handling his witticism when you’re still half-asleep.

“Just asking because that question could be taken in many ways, you see,” Jack goes on conversationally, ignoring your tone.

Rubbing your eyes, you sigh patiently. “Save me from the rest. Serious answer, please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely... Few hours, I reckon,” Jack says with a small shrug. He’s sitting on the bench, legs straight in front of him, ankles crossed. He’s absently picking on the bandage wrapped around his left palm, the one he had to cut in order to break his own curse.

“Why didn’t you wake me up?” you ask, leaning against the door again.

“Ah, but you looked so cute I couldn’t bear to. With that small trickle of drool sliding down the side of your mouth and the snoring…” he trails off with a shameless grin on his face, and you glare at him icily.

“…And now you look like you’re ready to deck me,” he finishes, his grin faltering slightly. You smile overly sweetly and nod.

“I do not drool,” you inform him slowly.

“’Course not, luv,” he quickly agrees, pacifying you. “...But you did snore.”

You look at him sharply, and he quickly lifts his hands in front of him, palms outward. “Parley?”

You snort, but can’t stop the small smile spreading to your lips. Noises from the entrance make both of you to look towards it, and you tense involuntarily. You let a small, silent sigh of relief out as Will and Elizabeth appear in the doorway. You get up and turn around to face them as they come closer. Elizabeth is dressed in simple but nice dress, her hair done neatly.

“Is everything alright?” Elizabeth asks with concern, gazing from you to Jack.

“Everything is just peachy. We are positively grateful for the good Commodore’s overflowing hospitality,” Jack smirks in his typical manner, and you roll your eyes good-naturedly.

“Yes, everything is fine. As you heard,” you reassure her with a smile.

Elizabeth nods, but she doesn’t seem too happy. “We came to let you out. We are reaching Port Royal soon. The Commodore considerers we’ll dock in another half an hour or so. They’ll take both of you Fort Charles after we do so,” she says quietly. You nod in understanding; that’s pretty much what you figured they would do.

Jack gets up and saunters next to you, resting his hands on the bars of the cell wall. “What about you, mate?” he asks Will. “They holding you responsible for the commandeering and breaking us out of the brig?”

Will looks downcast, shaking his head slightly. “No. The Governor told me he will grant me clemency after we reach Port Royal.”

“Well, that’s good,” you say. “You did what you had to.”

“That’s what I said, too,” Elizabeth comments.

“I suppose it’s all well and good… But I still think you would have made a good addition to my crew,” Jack says, with a grin curling his lips.

“Jack, please…” Will says, his tone slightly exasperated, but his expression only amused.

“We should get up before the Commodore sends his mariners after us,” Elizabeth says, and Will nods, unlocking the lock with the key he had in his hand.

“Aye, Lord forbid we might actually try something stupid,” Jack mutters his opinion about the Commodore as you both step out of the cell, and make your way towards the entrance with Will and Elizabeth.

* * * * *

CHAPTER 22 - This Sparrow Has Wings, Luv

“Didn’t we just leave this rotten place?” you wonder distastefully as your survey the very familiar cell behind in the strong walls of Fort Charles, one that you recently occupied with Captain Jack Sparrow only some days back.

“At least they’ve fixed the wall,” the said companion points out, his head tilted slightly to the side as he inspects the wall that the Black Pearl had blown a hole onto while still under Barbossa’s command. It was indeed neatly fixed, and quite much like it was before the meeting with the cannonball. The door had also been repaired.

“Aye,” you agree. “Quick job. For once.”

The Dauntless had docked to Port Royal soon after you had appeared on the deck, the soldiers of course keeping a close eye on you and Jack. You were a little disappointed you couldn’t see your friend Smithy anywhere to tease him bit; he’d obviously learned to avoid you. It had been early hours of the morning when you arrived; some minutes pass eight, as Elizabeth had informed you when you asked her this. The city had nevertheless been active and bustling with life as you set your feet on the sandy streets. You and Jack had been lead away in irons as soon as possible, and you didn’t really get a chance to see or hear what became of Elizabeth and Will. You figure the time is probably closer to nine, now.

Jack sits down on the familiar outcropping under the window, leaning his back against the wall and drawing one leg lazily up on the cropping, his pose very similar to the one he sported the last time you were here; when the Black Pearl had announced her presence with her cannons.

“Alright, now what?” you ask while turning around to face him, arms crossed. “Are we just sitting here and wait to be fetched to the gallows?”

“It seems like there isn’t much else to do.” Jack’s answer is smooth and annoyingly calm. How can he be so calm then this is doubtlessly the day you’re both getting hanged?

“Well, figure something out!” you exclaim, waving your hands for emphasis. “You’re Captain Jack Sparrow, after all! If someone should come up with something, it’s you. Or shall we wait for Will to barge in and lift the door open again?” you ask rather sarcastically.

Jack sighs, shaking his head a little. Dropping the leg back on the ground and getting up, he saunters directly in front of you. “Luv,” he says seriously, taking a hold of your shoulders and making you look at him. “Don’t start panicking now. You’ve held yourself together so far, don’t spoil it now, savvy?” he says, small smile turning the corners of his lips upwards.

You pout slightly. “I don’t panic,” you mutter defiantly. “I worry for survival.”

Jack chuckles, releasing your shoulder and wrapping one arm around them instead, steering you to the outcropping he vacated a moment ago, sitting you both down on it.

“Don’t worry too much,” he says airily, keeping his arm around your shoulders. You’re not exactly protesting; it feels nice and secure. “Things have a way of sorting out. Trust me,” he drawls confidently, and you let out a small chuckle.

You turn your head to the side and regard him with an amused expression, quirking an eyebrow. “That wasn’t too reassuring.”

Jack grins broadly. “You’ll see.”

You smirk back. “I think you’re being way too overconfident about a lot of things.”

You rather feel than see the slight shrug of his shoulders. “Aye, maybe. But that and few other traits have kept me alive and kicking all these years. So quit your worrying and enjoy the time you have left with my irresistible company,” Jack’s tone changes from thoughtful to cocky in seconds, and you smile in spite of yourself.

Grin pulls your lips as you get a thought, and without a word or warning, promptly lean your head on Jack’s shoulder. You feel Jack tense for a moment, probably out of surprise, but relax immediately, keeping his arm wrapped around your shoulders. Jack leans his back on the wall behind you again, taking you with him. Keeping silent, you’re reminded about the island and how you sat around the fire with him like this. A strange feeling of calmness takes over you as you just sit there, listening to Jack’s steady breathing and inhaling his scent. You’re enjoying the sense of security and the warmth that his sinewy arm around you creates, feeling his fingers absently trace random patterns on your upper arm; your skin tingles under the fabric of your shirt. You unconsciously start to worry your lower lip with your teeth as you remember the impromptu peck you gave him just before facing Barbossa in the cave, and think about what would it be like to kiss Jack properly. To feel his lips capture yours, let his tongue meet yours as you weave your fingers through his hair to draw him even closer… Whoa, girl! You blink to rid yourself of those thoughts and swallow, your throat suddenly gone dry.

“What are you thinking about?” Jack’s low voice whispers suddenly and you bite your lip. You’re certainly not repeating those thoughts to him.

“I was thinking about…” you stall. “The Pearl,” you say slowly, and scold yourself immediately after saying that. Idiot! Do bring that into this, why don’t you!

“Oh?” Jack’s voice is curious. “What about her?”

“Just that… I’m sorry,” you admit quietly, and Jack cocks his head slightly.

“I really have to squeeze things out of you, don’t I?” he states in dry amusement. “Sorry for what?” He asks finally when you keep quiet, his tone slightly perplexed.

You shrug a little. “That you’re not standing at her helm now, sailing away towards the horizon.”

“Ah…” Jack murmurs in understanding, but says nothing more. You feel compelled to encourage him in some way, hating to see him so down over his ship.

“I’m sure Anamaria and Gibbs will take good care of her for you. Until you get back,” you say, knowing it’s true. They kept to the code since Jack had, in a way, fallen behind and left, just like they were entitled to. You were furious at them in the boat, but now after thinking about it further, you see that they had no other choice. Pirates can’t afford to get sentimental, that’s not their way. Those who fall behind are left behind, and that’s the end of it.

Jack chuckles at your comment, a low rumble coming from his chest. You smile appreciatively at the sound. “Your trust in my abilities is very uplifting,” he finally drawls with mirth in his voice.

“Hmm... I guess miracles do happen, after all,” you jibe with a grin.

“Aye… funny ol’ world, innit?” Jack half-whispers in reflective manner, and you smile, comfortable silence surrounding you.

You feel slightly bemused of the fact that you’re so contented sitting there with your head on Jack’s shoulder when you’re both probably about to get hanged soon. But that doesn’t really matter to you now, as you concentrate on memorizing his scent and sensation of the slight, almost teasing, touch of his fingers over your arm, still absentmindedly rubbing small circles over your fabric-covered skin.

The pleasant moment is broken, much to your displeasure, by sounds from the entrance. Reluctantly straightening yourself, you sit up straight, listening attentively. Jack still lounges in the same, carefree position, but you can see he’s very alert underneath the seemingly nonchalant air about him. Two soldiers appear on the door of your cell, and you notice one of them is… Smith. You nearly grin in anticipation of tormenting him. You take a look at the other man with obviously of higher rank, and remember him being Lieutenant Jefferson, the one who addressed Smith after he’d arrested you the first time.

“You there, miss,” Jefferson says, looking at you as Smith fumbles with the keys. “Commodore Norrington and Governor Swann wish to have a word with you, even though I can’t understand why,” he says with contempt in his voice. You frown. Why the hell would they want to talk to you?

You glance at Jack, who smirks. “I told you things would sort out,” he says unflappably in I-told-you-so tone, and you roll your eyes.

“I wouldn’t be sure of that yet,” you mutter under your breath so that only Jack can hear you as Smith finally gets the lock open and pushes the door ajar.

“Such a cynic,” Jack tsks, wagging a finger. “You better go see what they want, be sure to tell the good Commodore my thanks for the excellent state of the accommodations,” he smirks, and you laugh a little.

“Will do,” you reply with grin and get up, making your way to the door and stepping out. Smith closes the door and locks it again, taking a hold of your upper arm again. Jefferson seems satisfied and turns around, starting to walk out of the cellblock. Smith pushes you ahead, and you grudgingly follow the pompous Lieutenant in front of you.

* * * *

Lieutenant Jefferson knocks on the heavy wooden door of Commodore Norrington’s office. You don’t understand why they thought they needed two men to escort you from the brig to the office few levels up; you really don’t think you’re that intimidating.

“Enter!” Norrington’s muffled voice floats through the door, and Jefferson pushes the door open, stepping inside. You follow him, Smith close at your heels. He let go of your arm a while ago as you gave him your best death-glare, fed up with his manner of gripping your arm hard enough to bruise it. Jefferson and Smith salute sharply as they step in the room, keeping you positioned in the middle of them. You raise a questioning brow as you see Elizabeth standing on the side of the room, clad in the same dress she had on when she appeared in the Dauntless’ brig with Will. She smiles at you encouragingly, and you once again wonder what this is all about.

“Commodore Norrington, Governor Swann,” Jefferson addressed the men in the room. “We fetched the pirate, as you commanded.”

Norrington nods curtly. “Dismissed.”

Jefferson and Smith salute again, turning on their heels and marching out, closing the door behind them. That leaves you standing in the middle of the room, completely at loss. Norrington is sitting behind his fancy desk, and Governor Swann stands by the window, beside the desk. Norrington crosses his fingers on the desk, fixing his unwavering gaze at you.

“I’m sure you’re wondering what this meeting is about,” he starts, watching closely for your reaction.

No kidding? You think wryly, millions of thoughts running around your head. Still, you keep your outward look composed.

“You might say that,” you reply warily, keeping your answers simple.

Norrington smirks ever so slightly, perhaps in amusement, before looking down at his hands briefly. With a quick look at the Governor, he goes on. “I’m sure you were informed about the fact that William Turner has been granted clemency by Governor Swann, despite his clearly illegal actions.”

You sneak a glance at the Governor, who stands there looking at you, his expression calm but at the same time strangely expectative. Returning your gaze back to the Commodore, you answer. “Yes. I'm aware of that.”

Norrington nods, leaning back in his chair, but his eyes never leave yours. “I’m also certain I do not have to explain the common punishment for captured pirates. Such as yourself and Mister Sparrow without a doubt are.”

You sigh quietly, your temper starting to get the best of you. Quelling the rush of irritation, you straighten your spine and smile in slightly lofty way. “If you could get to the point already, Commodore. The day isn’t getting any younger, and neither are us.”

Norrington’s mouth forms a grim line, and you briefly glance at Elizabeth. You can see she’s trying to hide a smile of her own. This makes you smile even more, and you look down at your boots to calm yourself. Getting a hold of your amusement, you again face Norrington.

“Very well,” Norrington says. “Governor Swann and Miss Elizabeth have approached me with a request. This request involves you, and it just might be your deliverance from the hangman’s noose. That is, of course, only if you should accept the terms.”

You glance from Norrington to the Governor, and from the Governor to Elizabeth. Request? Terms? Somehow, you didn’t like the sound of this.

“What request?” you hear yourself asking.

“I have asked if Commodore Norrington would release you under my jurisdiction, for a... probation of sorts,” Governor Swann speaks up, looking at you.

“I’m not sure I quite follow, sir,” you say, tilting your head slightly to one side. There has got to be some catch to this.

The Governor sighs, suddenly looking very old. “There is no denying the fact that you are a pirate. A criminal. But you are also my niece, and I cannot just stand there and watch you get hanged, and neither can Elizabeth. She was very adamant about the matter,” he says, fond smile on his lips as he looks at his daughter. Looking at you again, he goes on, his tone very serious.

“Since you are female and your offences aren’t of that considerate scale nor overly grievous in nature, we have come to the decision of offering you a certain accommodation. The terms of the agreement are as following; you shall be directed under my jurisdiction for the probation time of two months, starting today. During that time, you will be on your utmost behavior, obey orders, and most importantly, stay clear from participating in any way to any sort of illicit business. If you are found guilty to so much as littering, you will find yourself locked in a jail cell. There will also be a guard following you at times when Elizabeth or I are unable accompany you ourselves. Naturally, you shall also be tutored by a teacher to improve your manners and etiquette. In addition, you will be dressing as is proper for young women,” The Governor takes a moment to watch your reaction.

You blink, taking all this in. Two months of prim and proper behavior, constantly watching over your actions, and a guard with you all the times… and worst of all… two months of wearing dresses! And those bloody corsets! No way, they cannot be serious!

“I must admit I am more than a little wary of this proposition, considering you are a pirate, after all. But Governor Swann and Elizabeth have both vouched to take full responsibility of you, and report back to me frequently about your process,” Norrington states at this point.

Governor Swann nods. “If you hold onto these terms impeccably in every aspect, you shall be pardoned completely after those two months and you’re free to live your life as a normal citizen in Port Royal,” he says. “But, if any of these terms a violated in any way during your probation, no matter how minor… you will be sentenced to death for your illegal actions as a pirate.”

You inhale, thinking hard. They’re offering you a full pardon, if you endure two months of your idea of perfect hell. It’s not like you want to get hanged, but selling your very individuality like that seems so twisted. You were born to be a pirate, that’s all you’ve ever known, and suddenly they expect you to give it all up just like that and train to be a social butterfly. Oy, this is really not my day, or even my bloody month. I said it before I ripped off Otis, and I’ll say it again.

But then again... if you said yes to this little pact, perhaps you could help Jack to escape in some way before the hanging… and you'd also have time to figure out a way to get yourself out of this mess, as well.

“Well?” Norrington’s impatient voice breaks your thoughts. “What will it be? This is a very generous offer, one that you should seriously consider taking. Not everybody are as lucky.”

Lucky, indeed! You let out a breath, looking at Elizabeth. You know the instant your gaze meets her brown one, that you should have not done that. She looks pleading, as if she’d any minute now verbally beseech you to accept the terms. You close your eyes for a moment and sigh.

“Aye,” you ground out finally. Lifting your gaze to meet first Norrington’s, then the Governor’s eyes, you go on. “We have an accord.”

Norrington nods silently, and Governor Swann smiles pleasantly.

“But!” you state demandingly, “I do have few minor details I’d like to point out. For once, the dress code will apply from tomorrow on. Today, I will not wear a dress. And secondly… what will become of Captain Sparrow?” you ask the question in which you already know the answer to.

“Mister Sparrow’s crimes against the crown are numerous and utterly unacceptable in nature. He will be hanged, today at noon,” Norrington informs you in clipped tone, and you swallow. Today already? From the corner of your eye, you see Elizabeth look down in sorrowful manner.

“My second request is that I will be allowed to visit Captain Sparrow once more before the… hanging,” you say quietly.

Norrington raises a speculative brow. “And may I inquire as to why?”

You glare at him. “Certainly not to help him to escape!” you snap in irritation. Clearing your throat, you take a calming breath. “I just wish to talk to him for the last time. He is my friend, after all. Besides, he has a cut I want to clean up.”

“Cuts are the last thing he needs to worry about,” Commodore points out wryly, and you clench your fists as your temper threatens to flare again. “But, very well. You’re allowed to meet him. Private Smith will accompany you.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, goody.”

* * * *

Many minutes after your meeting with Norrington, Governor Swann and Elizabeth, Smith is finally escorting you back to the brig. You’re holding a small glass bottle of pure alcohol meant for medical purposes and clean bandages in your hand, courtesy of Elizabeth pulling a few strings. You didn’t fail to notice the clock in Norrington’s office; it was already almost half past ten. Only an hour and a half to go until Jack’s planned execution. You’re so deep in thought over the meeting that you startle a bit as Smith unexpectedly speaks up voluntarily.

“Is everything alright, miss?” he inquires, glancing at you as you continue to walk down the halls of Fort Charles.

“Fine,” you reply, looking at him with a raised brow. “Y’know, this has to be the first time you’ve spoken to me without me first bullying you into it,” you remark with a smirk.

“Apparently so, miss,” Smith replies weakly, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head. That boy is hopeless. How ever did he ever make it in the navy in the first place? Oh well. That’s none of your concern.

After finally reaching Jack’s cell, you stand back as Smith opens the lock. You look at Jack, who’s watching both of you with a curious expression; he’s still sitting on the same outcropping with his legs propped up, one arm resting casually over his knee. When Smith finally gets the lock open, he holds the door open for you. You step in with a sweet smile at Smith, which (much to your glee) seems to make him feel very uneasy. Closing and locking the door behind you, Smith pockets the keys.

“Fifteen minutes,” he announces tersely, striding away and leaving you alone with Jack.

You roll your eyes and make your way to the outcropping Jack is lounging on, and sit on the empty spot next to him.

Jack tilts his head to one side curiously, gazing at you with small smirk. “Well? What did they want? C’mon, tell ol’ Jack all about it,” he baits impishly, and you smile slightly.

“They offered me a full pardon if I stick here for two months and dance to their tunes,” you say, absently turning the bottle in your hands.

Jack raises his brows, letting out a small whistle. “Did they, now? That’s interesting…” he muses thoughtfully. “I guess that proves that blood indeed is thicker than water, aye?” he goes on airily, smirking.

“Obviously,” you agree, shaking your head. “It comes with certain terms, though,” you go on, and proceed to explain him everything that was said in the meeting. When you’re done, Jack has an infuriatingly smug grin on his lips.

“Teach you manners and decorum…” he chuckles, finding this apparently very amusing. “I’d pay to see you in one of those frilly dresses, luv, sipping tea like a proper, demure little lady,” he goes on, golden teeth glinting as he grins broadly.

You glare. “I don’t see anything funny in that,” you tell him wryly. Jack just chuckles at your reaction, and you give up. He never seems to take you too seriously, just grinning at your gushes of temper.

“Gimme your hand,” you say resignedly, placing the bottle and the bandages next to you.

He raises a brow, looking slightly amused. “Why, you want to read me future? I already know it’s not too bright.”

You just give him a look that needs no further explanations, and Jack offers his left hand to you with an exaggerated sigh, palm turned upwards. You scoot a bit closer to him, starting to carefully unravel the dirty bandage around his palm. You gently hold onto his wrist with your left hand as you unwrap the bandage with your right. Your logical mind tells you that it isn’t really necessary to hold onto his wrist in order to unravel the binding, but you tell that part to walk the board. You’re aware that Jack is watching you closely.

You let go of him as the bandage ends, missing the contact almost instantly. You drop the bandage on the ground and reach for the bottle of alcohol.

“You came back here just to do this?” Jack’s hushed voice breaks the silence that ensued a moment ago and you look up, straight in his eyes. He’s gazing at you intently, and you feel like he can see right into your soul. You swallow dryly, seemingly unable to avert your eyes from the enchanting depths of his dark brown ones. There’s so much electricity in the gaze shared between you that you’re surprised the air around you isn’t crackling already. You come abruptly aware of how close you actually are to him, and force yourself to look down and pick up the small bottle in your right hand.

“Among other things,” you manage to answer at last, and you cringe inwardly at the huskiness of your voice. Jack remains silent, but you can feel his eyes on you. You uncork the bottle and place your thumb over the mouth of the bottle, covering it. Taking a discreet breath, you grab his warm hand again with your left one, your palm against the back of his hand, thumb over his fingers. Carefully you dip the small bottle over the cut, moving your thumb over the mouth of the bottle so that small drops leak out, dropping on the wound and the skin around it. Jack doesn’t give any indication of feeling the sting but keeps perfectly still, although you’re sure it does burn like hell.

After making sure the cut is properly cleaned, you let go of him and cork the bottle, putting it away. Picking up the clean bandage, you fit the end over the cut and start to wrap it around his palm, making sure it’s neither too tight nor too slack. Working the other end of the bandage under the previous layers, you make sure it’s fastened well enough to stay put. Satisfied, you nod slightly to yourself.

“As good as new,” you say, starting to pull your hands away, but Jack grabs your right hand gently in his uninjured one before you manage to do that. Surprised, you look at him questioningly. He’s looking at you as intently as a moment ago.

“Thank you, luv,” he says huskily, placing his bandaged hand over yours, holding it between his palms. You smile; a small, sincere smile as his fingers trace patterns over the back of your hand, your skin tingling at the touch.

“It’s nothing,” you reply quietly, shrugging a little.

Jack shakes his head slightly, his piercing gaze never leaving yours. “I don’t mean just this. I meant that…” he trails off, fixing his gaze on your entwined hands as he tries to find the right words. You know that Jack is probably not the kind of person to express himself so openly with words, so you stay quiet and give him time to think, feeling touched that he’d actually think you worthy of such serious admission.

“You didn’t have to go with me and Will when we left Port Royal. But you did. So…” Jack lifts his gaze, looking you deeply in the eyes, his expression earnest. “Thank you for helping me.”

You blink as your eyes are dangerously close of misting over. Then you smile and say quietly, “You’re welcome, Jack.”

You loose the track of time and all comprehension of your surroundings as you gaze in the dark brown eyes of the pirate in front of you, dozens of thoughts running through your head. One part of you wants to address his possible plans of escape, the other just wants to sit here and stare him in the eyes, and the third craves nothing more but to throw your arms around his neck and kiss him with everything you’ve got. There are thousands of things you’d want to tell him.

“It’s midday soon,” you utter instead.

“Aye,” Jack murmurs back, seemingly unworried about the fact.

You frown. “And…?” you prod, hoping he’ll tell you he has some incredible plan to avoid the noose.

Jack smiles. “Worried about ol’ Jack?”

“You should be, too!” you cry incredulously. “Are you serio—”

Jack removes one hand from yours, and reaches out to place his forefinger over your lips, silencing you. “Hush, luv,” he just says, trailing his finger down to your chin and over your jaw line slowly. “It’ll be alright.”

You gaze at him, frustrated. “But—” your sentence is cut off again, this time by Smith’s re-appearance.

“Fifteen minutes is up,” he announces, moving to unlock the door.

You glare at him icily, mentally cursing his timing. Looking back at Jack, you see that he’s smiling at you. Squeezing your hand gently for one last time, he lets go. “Be nice to the poor bloke for once,” he smirks, and you narrow your eyes at him, gathering the bottle and getting up reluctantly. You take few steps towards Smith and the door, but suddenly turn around to look at Jack.

Jack rolls his eyes at you in mock-exasperation, and then smirks. “I told you not to worry,” he says. “This sparrow has wings, luv,” he goes on with a wink, and you tilt your head slightly at his peculiar comment.

Smith clearing his throat however forces you to turn back around and walk out of the cell. You glare at Smith as you pass him, and he locks the door again. As Smith leads you away, you glance at Jack for one last time. He’s still smiling.

* * * *

This is not happening, this is not happening, this is not happening…

The thought repeats in your head like a mantra as you stand on the side of the clearing in Fort Charles, the gallows standing ominously in the middle of the clearing. Town’s people are crowding around everywhere you look, coming to follow the hanging. The day is beautiful; the sun shines brightly and the sky is clear. It’s too beautiful day for such an event.

Commodore Norrington, Governor Swann and Elizabeth are standing on a slightly raised platform, and you stand aside on the ground. Smith is guarding you on your right side, and you’re quickly growing weary of his continuous presence. Your wrists are bound together loosely with rope. Norrington had insisted so, and you notice that he keeps glancing down at you from time to time, making sure you’re behaving yourself.

You stand on your toes and peek over the shoulders of the people in front of you as you try to catch glimpses of the gallows; Jack is standing there, his pose showing his typical indifference in serious situations.

“Jack Sparrow, let it be know that you have…” The droning voice of the officer reading the proclaim fades away as you concentrate your attention on the man standing before the noose. You smirk as you can see his annoyed expression, and his lips moving slightly as he mutters something to himself. You can bet you know what he said.

“…For your wilful commission of crimes against the Crown. Said crimes being numerous in quantity, and sinister in nature. The most grievous of these to be cited herewith; piracy, smuggling…” the officer reads on, and you hear Elizabeth speak up suddenly, and you look at her.

“This is wrong…” she says quietly while keeping her eyes on the pirate standing on the gallows.

“Commodore Norrington is bound by the law. As are we all.” Governor Swann says solemnly.

Then why am I not there, as well? You feel like throwing this question out, but keep silent as you look at Jack again.

“…Impersonating an officer of the Spanish Royal Navy… impersonating a cleric of the Church of England…”

You see Jack grin broadly at this, saying something to himself that looked suspiciously like “Oh yes.” Jack glances at the executioner standing on his right side some distance away, cracking a grin at him.

“…Sailing under false colors, arson, kidnapping, looting, poaching, brigandage, pilfering, depravity, depredation and general lawlessness. And for these crimes you have been sentenced to be on this day, hung by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul,” the officer finishes, putting away the scroll he’d been reading from.

You startle a bit as you see a man push his way through the crowd, appearing before you. You blink stupidly as you realize it’s Will, clad in elaborate, feathered hat and a maroon cape. He looks at you and nods, his eyes friendly. You smile back, nodding.

Will raises his head and look at the three people on the platform. “Governor Swann. Commodore. Elizabeth… I should have told you every day from the moment I met you… I love you.”

Elizabeth looks slightly stunned, and you grin broadly. Without another word, Will turns and pushes his way towards the gallows; your breath catches in your throat as you see that the noose is being fitted around Jack’s neck.

A colorful flurry on the other side of the clearing catches your attention; it’s a parrot, sitting on a bandolier. But not just any parrot, it’s Mr. Cotton’s parrot. You eyes widen in realization; they came back! In a split-second, you make a decision. Snapping your head to the side, you look at Elizabeth, your gaze speaking volumes. Elizabeth understands, smiling briefly, albeit little sadly. She nods quickly, and suddenly gasps audibly.

“I can’t breathe…” she utters, and feigns to faint. The drums sound, signaling the hanging to take place in seconds.

“Elizabeth!” Governor Swann exclaims, rushing to help her with Norrington. You grin, mentally thanking Lizzie for quick thinking.

“Sorry,” you mutter, and forcefully slam your right elbow into a particular spot in Smith’s stomach, making him gasp and fall to the ground as all breath escapes his lungs.

You dash into the crowd, pushing through the people in haste. You see that Will is fighting the soldiers now, and that Jack still has the noose around his neck. But he’s only half-way through the hatch, apparently standing on something rather wobbly that keeps him from falling and getting hanged, his expressions quite comical. Suddenly, Will cuts the rope in midst of fighting off the soldiers, and Jack falls through the hatch. Your relief only last for a moment, considering there are two redcoats coming at you. With a yelp, you push through the crowd that has dissolved somewhat now since the fight, and just try to keep distance between you and the mariners since your hands are still bound and you have no weapon.

Suddenly you run straight into someone, feeling hands grab your elbows. For a moment you think you’re caught, moments away from being dragged back to the brig. You prepare to fight your assailant in any way you can, but halt your movements as you find yourself staring in the familiar pair of intense, dark brown eyes.

“I knew you couldn’t resist my charms, luv,” Jack grins self-assuredly at you, and you make a face.

“More like not being able to stand the thought of wearing dresses,” you counter with a smirk.

“Less talk, more running,” Jack says, while looking past you, and abruptly he grabs your wrist and pulls you with him, running to catch Will. Letting go of you, Jack grabs the end of the rope Will throws at him, and they trip a bunch of soldier rushing to meet them. Abandoning the rope, they both perform little somersaults as they dodge the shots, taking cover behind a large pillar.

“Show-offs,” you mutter to yourself as you stand behind another pillar next to theirs, and run off towards the battlement as the gunshots cease, knowing Jack and Will are following close behind. You process comes to an abrupt halt as more soldiers swarm suddenly in front of you, pointing their muskets topped with bayonets at you, Will and Jack. Forming a semi-circle, the three of you have your backs against others, circling slowly to see if anywhere is free for escape. It’s useless; the soldiers have effectively surrounded you. Jack dodges and blows at the billowing feather on Will’s hat that keeps getting into his face, and you smother a grin.

Norrington, Governor Swann and Elizabeth push through the soldiers, stopping in front of you. Will is standing in front of you, Jack behind him, and you on the left side of Jack.

“I thought we might have to endure some manner of ill conceived escape attempt, but not from you,” Commodore Norrington says slowly at Will, distaste evident in his tone.

“On our return to Port Royal, I granted you clemency… and this is how you thank me? By throwing in your lot with him? He’s a pirate!” Governor Swann cries in aghast, proceeding to shoot a sorrowful look at you. You avert you gaze, sad that it had to come to this.

“And a good man!” Will insists, and Jack points at himself somewhat proudly. “If all I have achieved here is that the hangman will earn two pairs of boots instead of one, so be it. At least my conscience will be clear.”

You have to admire Will’s words; not many people would be so noble.

“You forget your place, Turner,” Norrington says crossly, and you seriously start to get fed up with that line.

“It’s right here. Between you and Jack,” Will says in earnest, looking at Norrington. You glance at Jack, who looks somewhat surprised at Will’s words.

“As is mine,” Elizabeth suddenly speaks up, moving to stand beside Will. Both you and Jack look at her, little taken aback. Will looks at her in admiration, and Elizabeth returns the look.

“Elizabeth! Lower your weapons. For goodness’ sakes put them down!” Governor Swann orders, and the soldiers comply.

Commodore Norrington looks at the pair before him, comprehension dawning on him. “So, this is where your heart truly lies, then?”

Elizabeth's words are solemn. “It is.”

Jack looks a bit downcast as he listens to the exchange, knowing the escape has been stumped. Suddenly he notices something that brightens his mood considerably and returns the glint in his dark brown eyes. You follow his gaze; it’s Mr. Cotton’s parrot.

“Well, I’m actually feeling rather good about this,” Jack says enthusiastically, stepping in front of the Governor as Will and Elizabeth talk to each other quietly. You edge a bit closer to the battlement’s edge, away from the mariners.

“I think we've all arrived at a very special place, eh? Spiritually, ecumenically… grammatically?” Jack babbles to the Governor, practically at his face, and the Governor turns his head away with a disgusted sound. You grin amusedly. Turning away, Jack saunters up to Norrington. “I want you to know I was rooting for you, mate. Know that,” Jack tells him with a raised fingers, as he already makes his way closer to the edge, stopping as he’s about to pass Elizabeth. You creep even closer to the edge, looking down. Your eyes widen, and you quickly pull back. High. A bit too high for comfort.

“Elizabeth… it would never have worked between us, darling. I’m sorry.” Jack tells her, expression regretful. Elizabeth frowns ever so slightly, but her eyes show that she’s just amused.

“Will…” Jack calls, and Will looks at him. “Nice hat,” he just says, missing Will’s amused smirk. Quickly sauntering up the stony steps next to you, he turns around to address the various people. You look at him in suspicion; what is he up to? There’s really no way out here.

“Friends! This is the day that you will always… remember as the day that you—“ Rest is cut off since he topples over the edge, but not before grabbing your still bound wrists and taking you with him.

“JAAA-CK!!” you shriek loudly as the ground beneath your feet disappears and you fall down with him, the air whooshing past you tearing at your hair and clothes. You stare in horror as the sea rushes closer and closer every second, and you close your eyes, waiting for the contact. You heart is pounding so furiously you’re certain it will soon burst.

You barely notice the sea suddenly surround you, climbing up your body as you sink deeper, opening your eyes. Elated to find out you’re still in fact alive, you start kicking your feet and swim to the surface. You gasp for breath as your head breaks the surface, kicking your feet to stay afloat. Spitting water from your mouth, you cough as Jack surfaces next to you, shaking his head a little to clear the water from his face.

“Jack!! You bloody devil cur!!” you yell in rage, your temper flaring. You could have both been killed in the fall. “What the hell did you think you were doing?! You cursed, mangy—“

You are once again cut off today as Jack snakes his arm around your waist quicker than you can comprehend, and abruptly pulls you flush against him, claiming your lips with his own. Your eyes widen in surprise, and you fling your bound hands over his head to rest over his neck as your anger vanishes, your eyes slipping shut as Jack passionately brushes your lips with his, tilting your head with his hand a little as he deepens the kiss, gently biting at you lower lip. Nibbling and licking your lips for a moment, his tongue slips in your mouth and meets yours, and you enthusiastically duel with him, slight moan escaping your throat as you press your body against his more firmly. Gradually retreating, Jack breaks the kiss with one final, tender bite at your swollen lower lip. You open your eyes, trying to catch your breath that comes in shot gasps. Your heart is pounding rapidly again, but this time it’s not from fear. Jack is too breathing hard, but his lips are curled in a very smug grin as he gazes at you.

“What… what was that for?” you finally manage to gasp, and is possible Jack’s grin only broadens.

“For luck,” he replies, voice somewhat husky.

“What does luck have to do with this?”

“I’d say we were bloody lucky to miss all those rocks,” Jack smirks, and you can’t help but to grin back mindlessly.

“Sail ho!” Comes a distant voice somewhere over the battlement, and both you and Jack gaze at the horizon; the glorious sight of the Black Pearl sailing towards you makes Jack grin joyously, before turning his gaze back to you.

“C’mon,” he says, letting go of your waist and unbinding the rope around your wrists. After freeing your hands, you both start swimming towards the Pearl, who sails gradually closer. The events of the past days are getting to you, and you feel really tired as you thread the water slightly behind Jack. Finally you reach the Pearl’s side that has anchored by now. A rope is thrown down in the water, and Jack grabs it with one arm, waiting for you to swim by. You grab the rope as well, feeling Jack again wrap his other arm around your middle.

“Heave!” Comes the command aboard, and Jack and you are flung from the water, flying through the air and landing on the deck, in the middle of the crew. As you sit on the deck, you catching your breath from the swimming, Jack gazes up in awe. You can see he’s happier than now than any other day you’ve know him.

“Weren't you supposed to keep to the code?” Jack asks Gibbs, who grins slightly.

“We figured they were more actual… guidelines,” he says, helping Jack up. You get up as well, and Gibbs smiles at you. “’Ello, lass. Figured we hadn’t seen the last of ye, yet.” You smile back.

“Aye, she’ll be part of the crew from now on. Right, luv?” Jack grins, and you nod.

“Right. Captain,” you amend with a small salute, and Jack grins. Cotton hands Jack his hat, and he takes it with gratitude.

“Thank you,” he says and presses the hat on his head, and Cotton smiles.

“Captain Sparrow…” Anamaria’s voice calls and she gets up from her place where she’d been leaning against the rudder. She walks over Jack, placing his coat over his shoulders. “…The Black Pearl is yours,” she smiles, and Jack gazes at the rudder.

Slowly stepping up the wheel, he presses his palm over the wood with fond smile, stroking the smooth timber. Suddenly realizing that everyone is looking at him, he takes on the Captain-mode.

“On deck you scabrous dogs! Man the braces! Let down and haul to run free!” he roars the commands, and the crew scatters to obey their Captain. You smile happily, but stay put for a moment, looking at him. This is truly where he belongs, behind the helm of this ship.

“That command goes to the latest recruits as well, luv,” Jack says, small grin playing upon his lips.

You smile. “I know. I just wanted to say that you look good there,” you smirk, and Jack chuckles.

“That goes without saying. Now, off you go,” Jack says, and you mock-salute.

“Aye aye, Captain,” you grin and turn around, making your way towards the other crewmembers.

“Now… bring me that horizon,” you hear Jack mutter, followed by humming. “And really bad eggs... Drink up, me 'earties yo ho.”

You smile broadly as you walk, happy for him. Walking towards Gibbs who’s tightening a few ropes by himself, you call out, “Oy, Gibbs! Let me help you with that.”

You had finally found your way home again, back to sail the seas.

THE END

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