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Chapter Text

Prologue: 1733 - Letters

"Captain Sparrow! One moment, please!"

Jack Sparrow, the young pirate captain, everyone in and all around Tortuga seemed to know, was just on his way upstairs, where, in one of the chambers, one of the tavern's fancy ladies, a spirited redhead named Scarlet, was waiting for him, as the innkeeper of the "Pirate's Lass" called him back.

He turned on his heels, raised an eyebrow, and looked at the innkeeper in a mixture of skilfully masked anger and natural composure before deciding to keep the girl waiting and instead listen to what the other wanted from him. Therefore, he strolled over to the counter and asked: "I'm sure you have a good reason why you want to keep me from following that little night moth upstairs, mate, but couldn't that have waited for, say, another hour or two, eh?"

The innkeeper looked at him and grinned knowingly: "The girls won't run away, captain, but I figured, the message Gibbs and the Dutchman left for you, would be way more important to you, than spending an hour or two between a pair of pretty legs. Am I right?"

The girl was forgotten as soon as Jack became aware that Gibbs and van Dijk must have been here.

It was now almost a year since Joshamee Gibbs had taken his place as helmsman and navigator aboard the "Stella Maris", and since van Dijk had dropped him off at the little port on Patrick's Island where he once had hired him, briefly after having lost the "Pearl". At the time they had to part ways, Jack, Gibbs and van Dijk had agreed to leave messages at the "Pirate's Lass", whenever there was important news for one or the other.

It seemed that there really had to be important news, because Jack hadn't expected the Dutchman to be back in the Caribbean that soon. So, he leaned over the counter and asked: "When were the two and the 'Stella' here?"

"Must be a month ago. They came straight from London. The Dutchman left a whole bundle for you!"

The innkeeper dug out a canvas- and leather-wrapped package and handed it to Jack.

It was indeed the Dutchman's handwriting, and the strange uneasiness that overcame him at that moment, told him that he had better not waste too much time before he got to reading this obviously urgent message.

He threw a handful of coins on the counter and said, "Thanks, mate! Tell the redhead in the chamber upstairs, we'll catch up on everything when I'm back. I'll pay her a double, then, but this is without any doubt much more important, than every single hour you can spend in the arms of some venal beauty."

An hour later, Jack was sitting in the captain's cabin of the elegant two-master, the "Withered Rose", which he had recently acquired, in exchange for the prize, he and Caithleen had once received, when they handed the "Eagle's Wing" to the East India Trading Company and its then-chairman, Lord Reginald Beckett.

Knowing that his crew was on shore leave, there stood not to be feared that one of his men would show up to bug him any time soon, but he was too impatient to untie all the knots severally, van Dijk had tied the bundle with, and, so, he grabbed the narrow dagger that lay on the table in front of him to simply cut the thin cord. Beneath the wrappings he then found a wooden box, and on top of its contents, a note from the Dutchman:

"Jack,

as I am not sure when you will receive this message, first things first:

Keep your powder dry, lad!

During our brief stay in London, Gibbs and I learned, that Lord Beckett knows you are alive.

How and from whom he could have learned this, I cannot tell you.

The fact is: He knows!

The bundle of letters you'll get handed with these lines was received from a young woman, who,

by her own admission, worked in Sir Edwin Cole's household.

She also told us you'd know who she was.

For the time being, I have no other choice but to tell you, take good care of yourself, son.

It will be some time before we'll be able to return to the Caribbean.

So, I hope that by that time you will have settled your score with Captain Barbossa,

and that the 'Black Pearl' will again be sailing under your command.

Gerrit van Dijk"

Jack had always known he wouldn't be able to keep his secret from Cutler Beckett forever.

The past six years in itself, and the fact that Beckett hadn't tracked him down during that time in particular, had been amazing enough, so, to expect that this run of good luck would last, would actually have to be called presumptuous.

And still, Jack had to admit that he had hoped to be able to delay that day a bit longer.

'Although,' he thought: 'even if he knows that I'm still alive, that doesn't necessarily mean, he knows where to find me. And that might prove as an advantage in the long run, right...?'

Heaving a sigh, he put down van Dijk's note and picked up the second letter.

A faint scent of lavender made him assume that this message was not from a rough sailor but from a woman, and, right...:

"Dear Captain Jack,

I'm not quite sure whether I'm even allowed to write you these lines, but since neither you nor the woman by your side have ever treated me with condescension, I think I can dare this venture with a clear conscience.

My name is Grace Parker, and I was one of the maids in the service of Sir Edwin and later Madam Turner.

It is impossible for me to say when this letter will reach you, I can only explain to you the circumstances that compel me to write this letter.

As I am sure you know, Madam Turner's condition has not improved since you last saw her, and only a few months after your departure, mourned by those few who still stood by her side, she passed away.

Young Master William found a loving new home with the family of Madam Turner's sister and all three boarded the "HMS Resilience" in the summer of 1731 to start a new life in the Caribbean.

Since Madam Turner's passing, I have now been in the service of Madam Turner's brother-in-law's family, and we have now received, apparently with some delay, the devastating news that the "HMS Resilience" has fallen victim to an accident at sea and that there appear to be no survivors on board.

Neither I nor my new masters want to believe that, and that is why I dare bother you with this letter, Captain Jack.

You and the woman with you appear to have had a close connection with Madam Turner, and I beg of you:

Keep an eye out, if you can find out a little more than what the official letter from the Port Royal Garrison told us.

Me and my new masters would be more than grateful for any kind of additional information you could give us.

Best Regards

Grace Parker"

Jack knew he would have been able to help Elianor's former maid and her new masters, knowing that young Will Turner was alive. The only question was whether this was wise at this point.

He couldn't imagine Beckett losing sight of the Cole family and everyone who had ever been connected to them, and, therefore, right now, after Beckett found out that he, Jack, was still alive, any contact with Elianor's family could prove deadly for any one of them.

'I'm sorry, love,' he thought as he placed the letter on the table: 'but neither would it do me, nor you, nor your new masters any good if I replied to your letter or returned to London...at least not now...'

After a draft of rum or two from the bottle in front of him, Jack opened the third letter.

It was more of a note, written in the elegant handwriting for which Sir Edwin Cole had been known, and prepared him for the letter he had been least prepared for:

"Mister Sparrow,

It is very likely that you will not receive this letter until long after my death. Nonetheless, I think it is important for you that you, by all means, receive it.

Lord Reginald handed me these documents for safekeeping a while after his unexpected meeting with you at my house, and after your return to sea.

In this case, he told me, he had more confidence in me, his political opponent, than in his closest associates at the head of the East India Trading Company.

He also told me that you'd know what it is about and that he wished you would comply with his request.

Allow me a personal word, my son, I think this is appropriate:

Judging from what Elianor and I have learned in connection with the loss of the "Wicked Wench", that loss which nearly cost you and Miss Stevens your lives, and judging from all the smear campaigns, young Lord Beckett had poured out over me and my daughter, I think it is all the more important that you receive these documents and study them carefully.

Take good care, my son, and convey this wish of mine to Miss Stevens as well.

Sincerely

Sir Edwin Cole"

Jack remembered only too well that icy night in the spring of 1721, when Cutler Beckett, almost like a highwayman, had ambushed him in his carriage as he, after a long day aboard the "Eagle's Wing", had been on his way back to Sir Edwin's mansion.

Young Beckett had tried to persuade him to do business behind the back of his father, Lord Reginald, and the East India Trading Company, and 'doing business' in this case had only one meaning: Cutler Beckett wanted to persuade him to sail slaves over to the colonies, and he, Jack, had refused.

Therefore, he had been all the more astonished to find Lord Reginald at Sir Edwin's house on the morning after that memorable encounter.

The old lord had told him, without beating about the bush, that he suspected his son of conducting business without his knowledge. He had also told him that he wanted the East India Trading Company to have shared leadership in the future, and in pursuance of that wish, Lord Reginald had appointed him, Jack, as the second man in charge of the company - although he knew that in doing so he would have broken every rule he could have broken.

Jack had caught this revelation completely off guard, and he had never given it another thought - until this day, when he held Lord Reginald's note and a bundle of documents in his hands. The note read:

"Captain Sparrow,

I know you are unenthusiastic about my proposal to take over  the  shared leadership of the East India Trading Company together with my son.

Surely, this suggestion came a little prematurely from me, and I bothered you with it at a time when you and your thoughts were already fully focused on the sea and your ship again.

Anyhow, I sincerely wished you would agree to my proposal, as surely a man of your calibre, knowledge and ability would provide a profound counterpoise to my son's sole interests in power and money.

On behalf of the East India Trading Company

Lord Reginald Beckett"

Jack looked at the bundle of official documents for quite a while before putting them back in the wooden box, along with all the letters and messages, and sealing it tightly again.

He knew Lord Reginald had been genuinely sincere when he offered him that bargain, but time and the events of the years that followed had only played into the hands of his son, Cutler Beckett.

And now it was too late anyway!

Lord Reginald was dead and his son had done everything in his power to destroy his, Jack's, simple life as captain aboard a merchant ship and at the side of the woman he loved, and by having him branded a pirate, young Beckett had robbed him of any hope of ever having such a simple life again...

'I'm sorry, Sir,' he thought, 'I know you've never wished me anything but the best since I agreed to sail for you and on behalf of the East India Trading Company. But what your son did to me and to the woman who meant everything to me, makes it impossible for me to use the documents you entrusted to me in the way they were intended. Even if I might have wanted to, today, I can no longer comply with your wish...'

Chapter Text

1739 - Welcome to Port Royal - Part 1

Returning to Port Royal was likewise welcome and dangerous, but Jack Sparrow had no choice if he wanted to quickly resume his search for his ship and his traitorous crew, led by his former first mate, Hector Barbossa.

Again and again had he been hot on the heels of his 'Black Pearl' over the bygone years, but he had also missed her just as often: Sometimes for a day, sometimes only for hours.

Until the day, when he literally just had to reach out to touch her rail.

Until the day, when he got caught in the crossfire of two heavily armed merchant ships: A Spanish galleon and an English frigate.

At first, their undivided attention had solely been focussed on each other, until that very moment when they spotted the Jolly Roger at the topmast of his sleek two-master.

Agreeing about encountering a pirate at sea if one had fully loaded holds to be a fairly bad thing to happen, and agreeing about encountering a pirate at sea to be far worse than the plague and cholera combined, they had ceased their hostilities against each another for the time being, to take down their mutual enemy together...

Jack had been aware that his "Withered Rose" was no match for the two merchant vessels, and so he had decided with a heavy heart to abandon her. He had ordered his crew into the long-boat, and then sailed his "Rose" squarely into the fireline between the two former rivals, before making a foolhardy leap overboard to safety.

The explosion that ripped his ship apart when a salvo hit the powder magazine, gave him and his crew the opportunity to escape unnoticed from all further unwanted and unwelcome attentions, of both the Spanish and the English.

After that daring manoeuvre had distracted their attackers long enough to cover their escape, and after his men had fished him out of the sea safely and in one piece, they decided to head for the place that was the closest for them to reach in this situation: The island where Anamaria and her band of smugglers had found a new hideout, a couple of years ago.

Jack knew there was no point in quarrelling with fate. If he hadn't had that irksome misadventure with those two merchant vessels, his "Rose" would have been fast enough to catch up with the "Pearl", but it was useless to waste any more thoughts on the 'what if'.

What he needed badly, now, was a plan, and it began to unfold exactly the moment when he and his crew went ashore on 'Smugglers' Island'.

Jack was convinced, Anamaria and the smugglers would not hesitate to help him after they had rescued him from 'Rumrunner's Island', and after he'd told them where they could continue to do good business as a trade-off, but asking for help would also come with the meaning of 'having to answer questions', and that was something he wanted to avoid at all costs.

He knew, Anamaria in particular would have insisted on him explaining to her what was going on, and since it was she in particular he tried to avoid ever since that night aboard the "Stella Maris", Jack decided, not to take the trouble to ask the smugglers for help, but to take matters into his own hands. And so, still long before dawn the next day, he had 'borrowed' Anamaria's dinghy:

Without permission, but with the most honest intentions of regiving it as soon as he would have settled some of his unfinished scores...

Returning to Port Royal was likewise welcome and dangerous, but Jack Sparrow had to find out that 'borrowing' things without permission, sometimes came with the element of surprise, and Anamaria's dinghy was no exception: It came with a leak!

It wasn't noticeable at first, and since there was nothing he could do about the things that lay behind him, Jack finally seized the opportunity to reflect on what lay ahead. He knew, no matter if he was willing to accept it or not, he had to face some unpleasant truths:

His "Rose" lay at the bottom of the sea, and he was once again 'in the market', as he called it, which was actually nothing else but a more pleasant term for 'being left stranded'. All the more reason, then, for him to get to the bottom of the rumours he had picked up over and over again in about a dozen taverns all around the Caribbean for quite some time:

The "HMS Interceptor", the new pride of the English merchant fleet, and reputedly the fastest ship currently sailing the seven seas, was said to be anchored in Port Royal Bay, and her captain was said to be none other than a certain James Norrington.

That James Norrington, who had been serving as a lieutenant aboard the "HMS Dauntless" eight years earlier, when Bill and Elianor Turner's son got fished out of the sea and left in the custody of the new governor. Weatherby Swann.

Coincidence or not, Jack found the prospect of possibly finding answers to some of his questions during this, admittedly, not fully voluntary stay in Port Royal extremely enticing, and with a bit of luck he would even be able to capture a fast ship to continue the search for his beloved "Pearl" - and if the "Interceptor" really was as fast as everyone was saying...

Caught by a rekindled love of adventure, he decided that this in itself was already a veritable reason to return to Port Royal, but the confident smile on his lips died down as quickly as it had appeared. He knew about the risk he was taking as soon as he would step ashore in the former pirate stronghold:

Should they, for what reason ever, recognise him for who he was, he would face the dungeons at best, and the gallows at worst, and he didn't even want to think about what they could do to him between these two possibilities, if they would do to him, what they were allowed to do to him.

Since he no longer owned letters of marque, and since he was no longer sailing on behalf of the East India Trading Company, he would be only what the brand on his arm condemned him to be: A pirate!

At least, in the eyes of the governor and of the officials at Port Royal, and what these officials were capable of doing to those pirates, who ended up at their mercy, was demonstrated to him in a vivid and gruesome way as he sailed his meanwhile visibly leaky dinghy into the harbour bay.

"Pirates Ye Be Warned", read the wooden plate attached next to the mortal remains of the three hanged pirates left exposed to the elements, and in plain sight for everyone who had to sail past them.

Jack stopped his already futile attempt to scoop the water out of the dinghy, which was running back in faster than he could get it out, and paid his respects to his unknown comrades over at the gallows.

His thoughts ended again with all those atrocities, anyone was allowed to do to a pirate, should he, or she, catch or get hold of one. In a case like that, ending up at the gallows or in front of a firing squad were the most merciful options. Most of the time, though, almost certain death was preceded by worse things: Humiliation, abuse, torture, endless interrogations - these were the punishments for those, who had already been punished enough by life before they had decided to become pirates.

They had no rights and were denied any permit to a fair trial in a court of record at the City of London, and those, who were granted such a hearing soon wished they had instead ended up on the gallows, for the mere passage aboard a Royal Navy ship was sometimes worse than a quick death could ever be: When the captain aboard such a ship allowed his crew to do with their prisoners as it pleased them...and what it would mean, falling into the hands of a crew, who had been at sea for several weeks, sometimes months, Jack didn't want to imagine, not at this moment, and actually not at all.

He knew just all to well what could happen to him, if his manoeuvre should go awry, but strangely enough, he had always known that he would neither die at the gallows nor ashore, and so he decided to still trust in this vague but strong feeling...

Jack blinked to get rid of those dark thoughts, and soon his full attention got entirely captured by something totally different.

Next to a merchant ship that was just being loaded at one of the piers, and amidst countless fishing boats, an impressive warship was anchored in the middle of the bay:

The "HMS Dauntless"

And not far away, in visual range, and within earshot to her, a second merchant vessel was moored to a pier near the garrison. She was a sleek brig, and she left no doubt that, under the right conditions, and under the command of a capable captain, she would achieve considerable speed:

The "HMS Interceptor"

One was the warship, Gibbs had told him about, the other that supposedly fast merchant ship, so many rumours had spun about.

Jack grinned.

This swift vessel would, indeed, make a nice prize for him if, yes, if he would manage to get ashore at all. The dinghy was almost full to the brim, by now, and, so, he threw the bucket overboard and climbed up the mast, regardless of the wonderingly looks of the fishermen and sailors, and fully aware of what a sight he would present to all those who would get to see him at that moment.

Although it wasn't planned like that, it was a really good feeling to believe it could have been planned like that, as he, the moment the boat was sinking, made his first step on the pier, and so Jack was straight on his way to town and port, when the harbour-master called him back: "Excuse me, Sir! In case you want to tie up your boat right here, it will cost you a shilling, and I'll have to enregister your name."

Jack turned on his heels.

He glanced at the meanwhile completely sunken boat, of which now only the top of the mast was sticking out of the water, then looked at the harbour-master, and finally let his gaze wander again to the wreck that had once been Anamaria's dinghy. With a frown and fumbling in his pocket for something, he finally turned back towards the harbour-master and said: "What would you say, if I gave you, say, three shillings, and we forget the name, eh?"

The harbour-master looked at him in mild puzzlement, not sure what to make of that peculiar stranger who was looking at him expectantly, obviously waiting for his answer.

He knew that if he were following the strict rules of protocol, he would have had to report the young man with those wooden beads in his long hair, with those kohl-rimmed eyes, and with that otherwise also uncommon appearance, but an extra two shillings supposed to end up in his own pocket, offered an enormous incentive not to bother with him any further.

Therefore, he looked at Jack, gave him a short nod, and replied: "Welcome to Port Royal, Mister Smith."

And while the harbour-master finally registered the false name, Jack thanked him politely, and left the pier breathing a sigh of relief - but not without making the small purse disappear miraculously, which was lying on the harbour-master's desk, and in which it jingled promisingly...

Chapter Text

1739 - Encounters

Port Royal!

Once a small, rather insignificant settlement in the Caribbean and the South American sphere of Spanish influence, it was now one of the more important cities and garrisons under English rule. In the intervening years, though, after the Spanish gave up the village and before the English claimed the town, it had been one of the most important ports for English and Dutch privateers, and later, when fewer and fewer letters of marque were issued, along with Tortuga one of the most infamous pirate fortresses in the Caribbean and around the Spanish Main.

Notorious pirates like Henry Morgan sailed from here, the 'Brethren of the Coast' got founded here, and also the, by now, legendary 'Pirate Code' got noted down here before the English drove the last pirates out of their hideout.

But not only pirates went on their forays, sailing from Port Royal - the adventurer and writer Alexandre Exquemelin also sailed from here as an observer and chronicler aboard various ships. First for the French West India Company, later also aboard several pirate ships, and under the command of some famous captains of his time, amongst them Henry Morgan.

Much in love with his tales, Jack would devour his books and travelogues greedily whenever Patrick Swallow brought back home a new volume from his raids, and he and Caithleen had spent days imagining what it must have been like to experience such incredible adventures.

The books now lay safely within a chest in a small cottage high upon the cliffs of a small island, and the heyday of piracy was long gone.

The 'Brethren Court' would now be held at Shipwreck Island, if it got hold at all, and the 'Pirate Code' was kept safe inside the island's stronghold - guarded by Captain Edward Teague, 'Keeper of the Code' and - Jack's father...

As Jack Sparrow strolled through the streets and alleys of Port Royal, he was amazed to find that not only was there a lot of activity around the harbour and in the market square but also around the garrison, and so he went to have a look.

He didn't stand out among all the visitors and strangers, having mingled with the local people, and no one seemed to take notice of the young pirate, who looked around attentively, while hoping that this condition might last as long as possible, but even though he was dying to finally find out, if all the rumours about the "HMS Interceptor", the supposedly fastest ship to currently sail the seven seas, were actually true, he was even more interested in the reason, why everyone seemed to be a bit more than overly excited on this very day.

That was why he sincerely welcomed the sight of a group of fishermen sitting on the quay, mending their nets.

He strolled over to them, watched them for a moment, and finally asked: "Tell me, mate, do you happen to know anything about that magniloquent spectacle that's going on up in the garrison and around the governor's palace?"

"You're not from here, are you, lad," one of the fishermen asked in return.

"Not even close..."

"From far away, then?"

"Far enough not to have the least inkling of what's going on up in the garrison and around the governor's palace, eh!?"

"Well then, listen carefully, lad! Behind the walls, up there, they're celebrating the promotion of one of their officers today, and we'll have a few extra breadcrumbs that aren't even good enough to attract a fish."

"I see!" Jack nodded thoughtfully, then asked, "Who's the lucky one, then?"

"Arrived here a few years ago as a lieutenant aboard that warship over there." The fisherman pointed at the "Dauntless" and went on: "Along with the new governor and his daughter. Heard, he's the captain of that cargo ship at the pier, by now. If not, he's definitely an officer in the Royal Merchant Fleet. Rumour is that they promote him commodore, today, and there must be something to it, if the governor himself came to town to order a sword for him from the best blacksmiths in all Port Royal. Seems that our future commodore is well connected."

"That wouldn't be a new story, right?"

"Nah, not that, but the word is that this Norrington is not only interested in being on official terms with the governor, but also in making personal links with Swann, better, with Miss Swann. He's been courting the lass for months..."

"James Norrington, I presume?"

"Right! You know him?"

"Just from hearsay, but that's already more than what I wanted to know. Thanks, mate…"

Jack greeted the fisherman as he left them and set out further for the pier again.

'So there's some truth to all the rumours about the 'Interceptor',' he thought with a mischievous grin, while adding to himself: 'Seems I'll spoil our future commodore's great day if I'm going to commandeer the pride of the entire merchant fleet in front of the eyes of the assembled garrison...'

However, before he could sail into the sunset aboard the "Interceptor", he had to capture her, and in order to capture her, there was one thing he didn't need at all: The attention of those who would most probably not be interested in watching him sailing into the sunset aboard that vessel.

That was why Jack hoped the ceremony, up at the garrison, would occupy the officials, the soldiers, and the guests for as long as it would take him to come up with a plan. As long as all eyes were set on Norrington, and the success of that promotion of his, no one would waste a thought on a notorious pirate attempting to commandeer a sleek two-master, right?

And so, he beheld the vessel curiously, from out of a safe distance.

It wasn't that big, but still big enough to sail all the oceans of the known world with ease. Lean and, undoubtedly, highly manoeuvrable. As if made for a pirate on the hunt for his own ship.

What got him thinking, though, was whether he would be able to steer the ship alone, or if he would need someone to lend him a hand if he wanted to set sail for Tortuga - and there was one thing Jack knew for sure: Even if it was a rather short crossing, he wasn't able to split himself into two...

'Well,' he thought: 'Maybe, it's true and good advice, at times, is rarer than rubies, but mostly it's not unpayable...'

And what would a well-deserved prize be worth, if it came without a challenge?

Willing to take on the challenge that capturing the "Interceptor" would entail, Jack was about to set out to stroll down to the nearby pier when he almost stumbled into a small group of soldiers heading in the direction of whence he just did come from. The officer leading the squad hesitated, turned, and finally stopped the stranger lurking around: "You there! Moment, please!"

Jack grimaced unwillingly, but since he wouldn't have had a good explanation for running at this point in time, he decided that staying where he was would be the best of all possible solutions. After all, it would surely get difficult to set sail if this overzealous soldier would come up with the idea of locking him away.

Therefore, he awaited what was yet to come while the officer ordered his men: "Wait for me at the pier. This shouldn't take too long."

He watched for the men to leave, then hurried over to Jack, grabbed his arm, and pulled him along until they were out of sight and earshot of any curious listeners: "Captain! Is it really you?"

To Jack's great astonishment, the officer's voice sounded neither threatening nor demanding, but surprised and... relieved?

"I wish I could say I'm glad to see you, but, are you insane showing up here in Port Royal? Today at that?"

Jack lifted his gaze and met the soldier's face questioningly, not sure what to make of this unexpected outburst of both happy and worried surprise. But then it began to dawn on him that he had met the man before.

In Africa!

The day when Lord Cutler Beckett had turned his life into hell on earth.

"The key," he whispered while letting his gaze wander over the other's face again: "You gave me the key for the chains that..."

His voice died off for a moment, then he cleared his throat and asked: "Lieutenant Groves, isn't it?" The other nodded, and he went on: "I see you have taken your fate into your own hands, by now, and I see that, in the meantime, you have chosen a better commander than the previous one, although, certainly not too much of a challenge that must have been, am I right, eh?"

Groves smiled, but he still seemed worried as he replied in a low voice: "It was a question of conscience, after what they did to you, sir. Therefore, the same question again: are you insane to come here?"

"I have no choice. I need some sort of floating anything to get me to Tortuga. And I need some answers to at least some of my questions!"

"If you'll get found here, the question will no longer arise as to whether you will get to Tortuga, or whether you will even be able to ask your questions at all."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Haven't you heard? Lord Beckett has knowledge that you are still alive!"

"How's that?"

"Rumours of a black ship akin to the 'Wicked Wench' to the last plank! Rumours that you've turned up in London! Rumours that you've risen from the dead!"

"Lots of rumours, if you ask me...eh?"

"A lot of rumours, indeed, but Beckett has his spies. Everywhere! Any garrison within range of the East India Trading Company is ordered to hand you over at once should you be caught! And Beckett's bloodhound will not hesitate to hunt you down - you and anyone else willing to help you..."

"Mercer?"

"Yes! Mercer!" Groves grabbed Jack by the shoulders and looked him straight in the eye: "I don't have much time, my watch aboard the Dauntless is about to begin, but I want you to know: I've never forgiven myself for not telling you what Beckett had planned for you and Miss Stevens..."

"It wouldn't have changed anything, Lieutenant. If that puts your mind at ease. You did what you could, it couldn't have done any better.."

"Then do me a favor, whatever your plans, keep out of Beckett's way."

"I'm afraid I won't be able to do you that favor, mate. Whatever it may cost me, I have to settle this outstanding score. Not for me, but for... her...! Savvy?"

"I understand!" Groves lowered his head, then added with a forced smile: "I have to go, but I truly hope this won't be our last encounter!"

With that, he turned on his heels and hurried to follow his men, while Jack watched him go, wondering if this foolhardy lieutenant might be able to lend him another hand when it mattered...

The unexpected encounter with Lieutenant Groves and the wholehearted warning the soldier had given him made Jack think for a moment.

Was it really still that important to settle all those open scores, and if so, why?

And wasn't he well on his way to turning himself into another Cutler Beckett if he was so hell-bent on getting revenge on those who had ruined his life so thoroughly that he was literally left with nothing?

He shook off the thought as quickly as it had arisen, and decided it wasn't time for that yet.

First things first.

And that meant he needed a ship, and that ship lay right in front of him. Firmly moored to the very pier he now walked down with confidence and full of determination. The "HMS Interceptor" was only a stone's throw away and ready to sail under a new captain...

"This dock is off-limits to civilians!"

Guns at the ready, the two soldiers who moments earlier had been dozing lazily in the shade of one of the trees along the bank now aimed at him and Jack began to wonder why everyone he met in Port Royal seemingly wanted to stop him from getting a closer look at that blasted ship.

He looked at the two in front of him in turn, and replied in his own natural mindset: "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't know. If I see one, I shall inform you immediately."

That said, he wanted to push past the eager guards in order to finally get to his long desired for aim, but underestimated the persistence of the two, who still made no move to let him pass.

It seemed like they were dead serious about defending access to the ship to the last, so, Jack decided it was time to improvise again and said: "Apparently there's some sort of high-toned and fancy to do up at the fort, eh? How could it be that two upstanding gentlemen such as yourselves did not merit an invitation?"

"Someone has to make sure this dock stays off limits to civilians," the wispy fellow replied, and no one needed to tell Jack that this arrow had just hit its aim: These two would have loved observing the ceremony up at the fort...

He thought of something, then asked: "You two have names, I guess...?"

Causing bewilderment was always the best and most efficient method, and Jack knew it worked when the two soldiers exchanged a slightly puzzled look, and when the wispy told him: "Of course, sir! Mullroy...", he pointed towards his comrade, a fellow with a round and naive face: "...and Murtogg!"

"Ah! So, tell me, then, why would someone keep you two from some well-deserved time spent observing the promotion ceremony of the good ol' commodore to-be, forcing you to make sure this dock stays off limits to civilians, if that ship you're supposed to watch over floats safely in the bay with a whole troop of soldiers aboard to guard it anyway, eh? But while we're just talking about it that nicely, what ship is it out there in the bay? I mean, looking at it, it seems to me that a ship like that makes this one here a bit superfluous, really."

"Oh, don't let yourself be misled by the vessel's pure size, sir," Murtogg explained: "the 'Dauntless' might the power in these waters, true enough, but there's no ship that can match the 'Interceptor' for speed."

Jack considered that, knowing that this was not the full truth, and replied obviously reflecting something: "I've heard of one at least, supposed to be very fast, nigh uncatchable - the 'Black Pearl'..."

"What?" Mullroy, the round-faced one, looked at Jack as if he had just made a try to amuse him with a tale now only told to children, as long as they were still small enough to believe such legends: "The 'Black Pearl'?" He scoffed as he went on: "Maybe, that's true, sir, but we're talking about real ships. The 'Black Pearl' is just a mere legend. She's is not a real ship."

Jack was about to give the soldier a harsh reply when Murtogg forestalled him: "The 'Black Pearl' is a real ship!"

"No, no it's not."

"Yes it is. I've seen it..."

Jack observed the two soldiers for a little longer, listening in amusement as they quarrelled over his ship, and whether it was real or not, but with time passing, their discussion became repetitive, and he slowly started to grow bored. Therefore, while they were still busy with each other, he snuck away and went aboard the "Interceptor" - and he had to admit: The rumours did not lie!

She was indeed a masterpiece of shipbuilding, not too big, not too small, just right for any pirate, as they usually preferred speed and manoeuvrability to sheer size, and just right for him, as well, as he needed a fast, manoeuvrable vessel, if he wanted to catch up with his "Pearl" at some point.

He was just running his hand over the wheel, when Mullroy and Murtogg rushed aboard: "Hey, you! Get off the helm! You don't have permission to be there, mate!"

Jack heaved a sigh and stepped away from the helm with a shy smile: "I'm sorry, it's just, it's such a pretty boat...ship."

"What's your name," Murtogg insisted on knowing.

"Smith. Or Smithy, if you like," Jack replied, remembering his encounter with the harbour-master earlier that day.

"And what's your business in Port Royal, 'Mr. Smith'," Mullroy urged him to explain.

"Yeah, And no lies!"

Sometimes the incredulity and the persistence of the people was irksome, but the two soldiers had convincing arguments with them and a pair loaded weapons right in front of him was something, Jack wanted to avoid by all means. That was why he decided to tell them two the truth: "Well, then. I confess: It is my intention to commandeer one of these ships, pick up a crew in Tortuga, raid, pillage, plunder and otherwise pilfer my weaselly black guts out!"

Murtogg stared at him and told him: "I said, no lies."

"I think he's telling the truth," his companion tried to convince him.

"If he were telling the truth he wouldn't have told us."

Jack shrugged and just said: "Unless, of course, he knew you wouldn't believe the truth even if he told it to you..."

Unprepared for Jack actually telling them the truth, it took the two soldiers a moment to stomach that truth.

Still more confused and intrigued, though, than intimidated, they first exchanged a look with each other, before they gazed at Jack again, and before Murtogg asked him: "So you're really a pirate?"

'The truth has been spoken,' Jack thought: 'so why keep denying', and so he said: "As it were!"

"And you really intend to sail to Tortuga?"

"Aye! That was my plan before you detained me aboard here!"

To his surprise, neither of them said anything, instead, they both lowered their weapons before looking at him again, curiously and, obviously, inwardly shifting from foot to foot. For a while there prevailed silence aboard the "Interceptor", until Murtogg finally picked up the courage to ask: "If you really are a pirate as you claim, then haven't you already had a lot of adventures?"

Jack frowned, not sure if all of this was actually happening, or if he was dozing off into a blissful slumber, as he replied, "Oh yes!"

The two exchanged another look and then asked almost simultaneously: "Couldn't you tell us about it? As you can see for yourself, not much is happening here and the ceremony up there will also take place without us..."

Shortly after, Jack was sitting on the steps leading up to the wheel - together with Mullroy and Murtogg. They literally hung at his lips, inhaling every word as he told them about his adventures: About the mighty pirate fortress of Singapore, about the dozens of ports in the Mediterranean, about his countless crossings to the colonies, and about his many encounters with other sailors and pirates.

He also told them about the countless legends including mermaids, sea monsters, treasures, and exciting sea battles. And, of course, he didn't miss out, telling them the story of the cannibal island where he and Caithleen once stranded together with their crew when he was still captain of the "Eagle's Wing".

"That doesn't sound very inviting," Mullroy remarked with a shudder.

"It wasn't, mate. I lost some members of my crew on this island and only escaped by a hair's breadth myself..."

"How did you escape?" Murtogg wanted to know.

"They made me their chief."

"That cannot be true!"

"I swear on the pain of death, it is, mate! After taking us to their village, the Pelagostas made me their chief. I never found out why, and actually I don't really want to, but maybe they thought me to be some kind of god, or..."

He didn't get to finish his sentence because his attention was drawn towards a nearby noise coming from the fort. Someone or something had obviously fallen straight from the battlements into the sea - a girl, as the screams and shouts from above confirmed.

Jack turned to the soldiers: "You're not going to save her?"

"I can't swim," Murtogg revealed.

Mullroy just shrugged and said: "Me neither".

"You are truly the pride of the King's Navy!" With a sigh, Jack took off his coat, tricorn, weapons and compass, and handed it all to them two, admonishing them. "Don't lose this!"

Then he jumped over the rail and into the sea with an elegant leap...

Chapter Text

1739 - Welcome to Port Royal - Part 2

The moment Jack dove into the dark waters, an enormous shockwave ran through the bay, spreading further out into the open ocean in a plain surge, but whatever it was, Jack knew he didn't have time to give it a thought if he wanted to reach the girl before he ran out of breath.

The young woman had lost consciousness. She was sinking to the bottom of the bay, motionless, the moment he reached her, and without further thought, he grabbed her around the waist and pushed himself off the seabed with all his strength.

It took him enormous effort to keep her from sinking back to the depths anew, and it almost felt as if the sea itself was trying to prevent them from reaching the sunlight.

When he finally managed to reach the water's surface together with the still senseless girl, he only had moments to inhale a deep breath before they got both dragged back down by a powerful but invisible force.

Jack struggled to get himself and the girl to safe shore, but the steady pull that threatened to drag them back down to the sea floor grew stronger the harder he tried.

On a sudden impulse, he gave himself up to the current for a moment, and saved himself and the young woman in his arms from drowning by tearing off her seawater-soaked dress - and while the heavy brocade dress sank down to the depths, he succeeded with getting the girl to the pier and to safety.

Equally surprised and relieved, Jack realised that Mullroy and Murtogg had been waiting there.

The two soldiers immediately rushed to help him get the girl back onto solid ground, while he himself, exhausted and completely out of breath, climbed out of the water, well aware that the danger to the young woman was not yet over.

Mullroy bent over her to brush her hair from her face, but...: "She's not breathing!" And he looked at Jack as if expecting a miracle from him.

"Move!"

Jack pushed past him and dropped to his knees next to the girl. He looked at her briefly, and no one needed to tell him what was going on - he knew it. Therefore, he quickly grabbed the small knife Mullroy wore on his belt and without hesitation cut the laces of her corset.

She had been tied up so tightly, Jack wondered how she'd even been able to breathe in it at all, double-laced, to make things worse, in that heavy dress she'd been wearing - but even though he loathed these things, he had no doubt that, today, it had saved the girl's life:

Obviously she already hadn't been able to breathe properly in it before she fell off the battlements, but by being laced so tightly, and by causing her to lose consciousness, the corset had prevented her from inhaling water, and thus also from drowning...

The young woman's eyes were filled with panic as she opened them. Taking a deep breath, she gasped and regorged seawater as she sat up. It took her a while to realise that she was on land and safe, and that she could breathe freely again. Why she was soaked to the skin, why she was wearing only her underdress, and where her corset had vanished to, dawned on her only slowly as she looked into the faces of the three men who surrounded her, and, in particular, the young man kneeling in front of her caught her eye.

He was as wet to the bone and as exhausted as she was, and he was looking at least as curiously at her as she was at him - as it seemed he was the one who had saved her from drowning, and when she made another try to sit up, she saw him frown in wonder, eyeing her suspiciously, and a little confused...

In fact, Jack was both suspicious and confused.

As the girl attempted to sit up, a piece of jewellery she wore on a necklace, and which must have been hidden by the corset and dress, before, slipped out of the cleavage of her underdress.

He couldn't take his eyes off it and carefully picked it up.

It was a heavy golden coin.

Engraved within was a skull and a series of strange ornaments surrounding it, and Jack had no doubt, he had already seen a similar coin, skull and ornaments: Once in a drawing, and once in a massive stone chest on an inhospitable island.

This coin belonged to the Treasure of Cortez, and Jack wondered how this young woman had come into its possession.

He looked up and met her eyes as he asked: "Where did you get that?"

She showed no fear or uneasiness when she met his gaze - likewise open, fearless, curious and suspicious - and when she answered Jack knew she was telling the truth: "I'm...keeping it...safe...for a...friend ..."

"Since eight years ago, right?"

"How would you know...?"

"And his name is...Will Turner, isn't it...?"

The girl still looked at him without fear, but with growing confusion, instead: "Who are you...?"

He didn't get to answer her question.

Footsteps were heard on the pier and soon they were surrounded by a squad of soldiers.

Someone helped the girl to get up and put a jacket around her shoulders - and at the same moment Jack felt the blade of a sword at his neck...

"On your feet!"

The voice that addressed him now was used to giving orders, and the way these orders were given brooked no contradiction.

Jack hesitated for a moment, but he knew there was nothing he could do right now but comply with the order. This moment was not meant to attempt an escape, as under these circumstances, any attempt to escape would not just have been futile, but also downright stupid.

So he got up slowly, anxious not to reveal anything of what was going on behind his brow, and when he turned around, he found that he was not only facing a squad of soldiers, but also two men who couldn't have been more different.

The first was a man of advanced years. A long wig, such as was customary for his class, covered his head, and he was dressed for a festive occasion, the robes only of the best and most elegant fabrics.

He obviously belonged with the girl and the initial concern on his face gradually gave way to utter relief as he now wrapped his arms around her, knowing she was alive and well: "Elizabeth! Are you alright?"

"Yes," she replied, still beholding Jack enquiringly: "Yes, father, I'm fine!"

The second was a young man about his own age.

He was tall and slender, and his overall appearance revealed that he must have been a soldier from a very young age on, and, therefore, was accustomed to wearing uniforms. Under his hat could be seen a neat white-powdered wig that matched the ceremonial uniform he wore.

A certain arrogance showed on his features, but it was of an entirely different kind than what he had seen on Lord Beckett's face before. His eyes showed concern for young Miss Elizabeth, and it was obvious that he felt a little more for her than he was willing to show in front of the soldiers he was commanding at the moment.

If he could still rely on his sense for rating people, those two were the Governor of Port Royal, Weatherby Swann, and the newly appointed Commodore, James Norrington...

Jack was just preparing to say something, but the governor cut him short: "Don't you dare touch my daughter again!" Turning to the soldiers, he then ordered: "Shoot him!"

A dozen guns were now levelled at Jack, and the girl's eyes mirrored the horror she felt at her father's words: "Father! Commodore! I beg you! You can't do that! This man risked his life to save mine! Do you really intend to kill my rescuer?"

The governor hesitated, not sure what to make of his daughter's unexpected and passionate outburst. He looked first at her, then at Jack, then he nodded and said: "If what my daughter said is true, I guess I owe you a debt of gratitude!" Turning to the soldiers again, he added: "Release him!"

Jack watched with relief as the soldiers lowered their weapons and stood back at the governor's bidding, and there was a hint of gratitude in his gaze as he locked eyes with Elizabeth's, but he was once again barred from speaking when Norrington stepped up to him: "Well, it's probably not just the governor who owes you. Seems, in this case, thanks are in order."

Apparently, without any further ulterior motives, Norrington offered his hand, but Jack hesitated for a long time before deciding to accept the offer and return the handshake.

A split second later, he knew why...

Norrington grabbed his hand, and before Jack was able to withdraw it, he had to watch helplessly as the newly appointed Commodore pushed the sleeve of his shirt up his forearm, until the the P-shaped scar the branding iron had left on his skin, became visible to all bystanders.

Finally, with a wry undertone in his voice, Norrington asked him: "Had a brush with the East India Trading Company, did we...pirate?"

Jack winced when he heard the governor say: "Hang him," and he wondered if this day could get any worse than it had already been.

Apparently yes, because Norrington now waved one of his men over and ordered: "Keep your guns on him, men. Gillette, fetch some irons."

Once again, that dozen guns were aimed at Jack, and when Norrington turned round again to take a closer look at him, he noticed that there was more hidden above the brand. So, he pushed the sleeve of the shirt even further up over the pirate's forearm, and a tattoo became visible:

A sparrow in full flight over the open sea, silhouetted against the setting sun.

Jack grimaced as Norrington looked at the tattoo and finally said: "Well, well! Jack Sparrow, I suppose!"

"Captain Jack Sparrow!"

To his astonishment, Jack noticed that the moment Norrington mentioned his name, the girl's face gave a very different reaction than anyone else watching the scene.

What was it? Fascination? Curiosity?

He didn't get to think about it any further, for Norrington's sneer snapped him out of his thoughts: "Then where's your ship, Captain?"

"I'm in the market!"

"That's true, sir," Murtogg said. "He told us he came to Port Royal to commandeer one!"

"And these are his..." Mullroy added, handing Norrington Jack's belongings.

Jack was aware that the newly minted Commodore certainly had no intention of embarrassing himself in front of the Governor and his adored Miss Swann, and he feared he would be at the soldier's mercy from now on.

"Let's see!" Norrington picked up Jack's belongings and eyed them with amusement. "A pistol! No additional shot, nor powder. A compass that doesn't point north. And a sword I almost expected to be made of wood!" He looked Jack in the eye and added, "You're by far the worst pirate I've ever heard of."

"But you have heard from me," Jack replied with a self-confident grin.

At that moment the young lieutenant, Gillette, returned, whom Norrington had sent to fetch the shackles, and now the latter dragged Jack with him to have him enchained. Jack was surprised to hear Norrington instruct the younger man as he went to carry out his orders: "Carefully, Lieutenant!"

This was so unlike anything he had experienced, so far, when having had encounters with officers in the Royal Navy...

As Gillette put the manacles on him, Jack's gaze met the girl's again. Elizabeth Swann did not agree with this decision, and she, again, turned to her father: "Father, you do this man an injustice!" And to Norrington afterwards: "Commodore! I really must protest! Pirate or not, this man saved my life! Let him go, James! Please!"

Norrington looked at the girl and the expression on his face softened as he replied: "Miss Swann! Elizabeth! I understand what you were trying to tell me. Perhaps all of this speaks volumes for him, but don't forget that this one good deed does not compensate for all the bad deeds he has committed in his life so far."

"Isn't it strange," Jack now replied, instead of Elizabeth: "one good deed seems not enough to redeem a man, but one bad deed is enough to condemn him forever!"

It was at the very moment when the cuffs closed on his wrists, when the soldiers lowered their weapons, and when Norrington ordered him to be taken away, that Jack seized the opportunity he now had to prepare his escape.

As quick as lightning, he broke free from his guards, grabbed the girl, and put the chain around her neck, the shackles had been forged together with.

"For heaven's sake! Don't shoot!"

The governor was on the verge of panic, and Norrington ordered his men to remain calm, having no idea, though, how to handle the situation in a way that would grant a safe outcome for everyone involved.

Jack smiled.

He had no interest in harming Elizabeth Swann, but if he had rated her father and Norrington correctly, they would have done anything to save the girl. Therefore, he turned to Norrington with a challenging look and demanded: "Well, Commodore, if you would be so kind: May I ask you for my effects, please! And my hat!"

When Norrington didn't move, Jack decided to up the ante a bit more and pulled the girl closer to him, the chain still around her neck. Afraid that Jack might really strangle her, the governor turned to Norrington once more "Good heavens, James, do as he asks!"

The man really loved his daughter, so Jack said once again with a little more emphasis: "Commodore!"

Reluctantly, Norrington finally gave in and ordered his men to bring Jack's belongings and hand them to Elizabeth.

With his smile getting broader, Jack grabbed the girl and turned her around so that she would face him.

No doubt, the governor's daughter was a pretty girl. Her hair was the colour of dark honey, and her well-proportioned face got dominated by her large hazel eyes, shimmering furiously at the moment. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was breathing heavily from wrath...

But was it really just wrath?

Jack wasn't sure...

Her skin felt warm and soft next to his, and for a brief moment he felt tempted to forget where he was. It had been quite a while since he had last spent a night with a girl, so he wasn't able to hide that he felt slightly aroused at her closeness - and he was sure, she didn't miss that.

Locking eyes with hers, he finally said: "Would you be so kind, Elizabeth. It is Elizabeth, isn't it?"

"For you, it is Miss Swann," she hissed in response, then, all to his surprise, she asked whispering: "Wherefrom do you know Will Turner?"

"Well then, Miss Swann, would you be so kind." He pointed at his effects and replied, whispering as well, as she placed his hat on his head: "Will it do, if I tell you, I know his parents?"

She nodded, barely noticeable, and asked again, while tightening the belt around him: "You came to see him?"

"Easy on the goods, darling..." he warned her with a knowing grin, then added silently, pulling her closer again: "He's one reason. Does he know about you wearing that...medallion?"

She shook her head: "No!" Her hair smelled of seawater and wind, and Jack looked up, right into Norrington's eyes as she leaned further in on him telling him: "I didn't tell him...I took it...because..."

Knowing the Commodore to fret and fume over this, Jack enjoyed the moment all the more, whispering his reply into the girl's ear: "...you're afraid...it would get him into trouble?" She nodded and he asked: "Where can I find him?"

"He's a blacksmith," Elizabeth told him, then said aloud: "You're despicable!"

"Sticks and stones, love. I saved your life, you saved mine, we're square," he replied, then, telling her under his breath: "Has someone ever told you: You look wonderful when you're so angry, love."

Jack almost regretted having met her under such adverse circumstances, as there was slumbering a deep passion beneath her well-educated surface, and he would have loved finding out how deep it went, but this would have to wait.

For now, she had granted him help where he would never have expected help, and she had given him answers to some of his so long unanswered questions he had already feared he'd never get an answer to, so, as he turned her around, again, he whispered: "Thank you!"

Then, turning towards Norrington, and pushing her into the arms of her father, he said: "Gentlemen, milady, you will always remember this day as the day you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow!"

Chapter Text

1739 - The Blacksmith

Coincidence or a stroke of fate?

It was, of all things, the dark entrance to a forge that offered Jack a safe hiding place not visible from the lanes and the small square at their crossing, and the elaborately crafted statue of a blacksmith working at his anvil, afforded enough space for him in its pedestal to evade all curious eyes until the turmoil, caused by his escape, would finally simmer down.

Much to his displeasure, it seemed he would need some more patience until then, for the shouting and the heavy footsteps of the soldiers continued to echo throughout the whole town as they searched every house, square, and alley for him, without exception.

As he slowly recovered his breath, and while he waited for the opportune moment to leave his hideout to vanish unnoticed, Jack reflected on the brilliant feat his taking flight from the pier had been. Escaping the newly minted Commodore in such a daring and reckless manner would surely etch the day of his promotion into the memory of the aspiring soldier for a long time to come. At the same time, Jack knew that however satisfying his escape might have felt, Norrington was no fool, and he also knew that if he would make even the slightest mistake before finding a way out of Port Royal, he would still end up at the gallows - and therefore, the most crucial question was whether he would be able to escape from the bustling town on his own, or whether he would need help...

Help, yes...

Having thought it over, several times, and, so far, to no avail, it still made him wonder why that girl, Elizabeth, had been that willing and that venturous to help him so unconditionally. Of what he got to understand, was she the only daughter of the governor of Port Royal, and there was no doubt on the fact that the dashing Commodore Norrington was clearly interested in winning her over - and she had still decided to help him, out of all people.

Him, the pirate!

Of course, it did not escape him that the mere mention of his name seemed to have piqued her interest. Apparently, even more than his disclosure, shortly afore, that he knew William Turner, the boy she had spent her whole youth at Port Royal with, but why?

Did she have a reason?

Could she have been aware of who he was?

And if so, how?

Part of him was dying to get an answer to those questions, another part of him was aware of the danger his curiosity could get him into.

It wasn't like he could break straight into the girl's bedroom to ask her about the 'why'.

It wasn't even like he could abduct her straight from that bedroom and aboard the "Interceptor" in the middle of the night to then ask her about the 'why'.

At this very moment he didn't even know if he would actually be able to capture the "Interceptor" at all, in order to sail into the sunset, as he had planned to do sometime earlier that day.

What he did know for sure, however, was that he wouldn't go anywhere anytime soon, wouldn't he find a way to get rid of those annoying shackles, his hands were still tied up with, and so he turned his full attention back to his surroundings.

It had become quieter in the alleys around the forge and a last troop of soldiers was just disappearing towards the fort, their footsteps soon dying away in the distance.

Jack waited until they were finally out of sight and until he was sure there weren't any of them still around before he left his hiding place. Looking around briefly, he noticed with relief that the door to the smithy wasn't locked and scurried in, immediately wrapped in a relative silence as soon as the door closed behind him, and broken only by the soft crackling from both the forge and the fireplace.

He blinked a few times to accustom his eyes to the half-light, but as far as he could see, the only other creature besides him was the little donkey, looking at him curiously while waiting for its master to return.

The workshop was clean and tidy, as if the blacksmith who worked here was quite considerate about having every tool ready to hand and in its right place, which left Jack assured of being able to find what he was in need of in no time.

He took off his tricorn, put it on the workbench, and started searching for a suitable tool to finally rid himself and his hands of the shackles.

The same moment he got startled by a loud snort or grunt seemingly coming from one of the workshop's back rooms.

Both curious and wary, he tiptoed over to the corner from which the sound had come, only to find there a man of advanced years - sitting on a footstool and fast asleep. The man, obviously one of the blacksmiths, was, as the bottles lying on the floor around him suggested, completely drunk, and he snored so loudly that there stood not to be feared he would notice anything of what was going on around him at all.

He wasn't quite sure what to make of this, but after several unavailing attempts to wake the man up, Jack decided that he posed no threat to him and that it was time to turn his attention back to his handcuffs.

Them in mind, he quickly snatched a hammer, rushed over to the anvil all confidently, and had to realise that even though the idea in itself was brilliant, its accomplishment turned out to be way more complicated than he would have imagined - at least, if one had no third hand available!

Heaving a sigh, he had to face the fact: Without a free hand, it would become an impossible task to get rid of the chains with a hammer and anvil only...

It was at this very moment, when he once again looked at the little donkey at his running wheel, that he noticed the connection to the cog wheel high above his head at the ceiling of the forge.

Following his very own kind of intuition, Jack grabbed one of the pokers from the forge, using it to - "Sorry, mate!" - get the donkey to move, then, after the wheel got in motion, he lodged the chain, the cuffs were linked together with, in the cog, and hoped this plan would work out better than the previous.

And it did!

For a split second, the chain links groaned under the pressure, before they snapped apart with a satisfying crunch.

Carefully rubbing his wrists after his hands were finally free again, Jack was just about to look for a way out of the forge, when a sudden unexpected noise from the front door alarmed him: Someone was on his way to enter the workshop...!

From out of his hiding place, Jack could not see who had just entered the forge, but it was most likely that the old blacksmith was no longer working alone in the workshop, but together with a younger helper or apprentice.

Whoever it was obviously knew his way around the smithy's rooms, and the sudden silence told Jack that he had obviously calmed the donkey down before going over to look after the old smith.

"Right where I left you!"

There was a smile within the words of the youthful voice that now broke the silence, and Jack couldn't help but smile, too, as he thought of the old blacksmith sleeping the 'sleep of the just' on his uncomfortable little footstool.

It seemed that he had already been sleeping there at the time the young man had left the workshop, but when he uttered his next thoughtful words, Jack's smile froze immediately: "Not where I left you!" - and it began to dawn on him, that someone, who would leave his workshop so immaculately tidy, if he had to leave it, would clearly notice when something was not lying in its place at his return.

'Time to go,' Jack thought, and he was already on his way to sneak out of the workshop's back door when he got to remember that he was missing something important: 'Bugger!'

His tricorn!

The eye-catching hat still lay within close range on the workbench right in front of him, but he would not be able to reach for it unnoticed - and his hope, it would remain undetected, got dashed to pieces, the moment, when the young blacksmith had a look around the forge.

Jack knew he had no choice!

The hat had already given away his presence, and so he decided it was time to end this game of hide and seek.

Stepping out of the shadows, he looked straight at the young blacksmith's face, as he lowered the flat of his sword down on his hand just when he was about to reach for the tricorn: "Do us both a favour, son! Don't touch it!"

It was within this moment, when he faced the young man and when they locked eyes, that Jack realised, he would indeed be able to finally find answers to a number of his still unanswered questions.

And, yes, it was true, he would not find his beloved "Pearl" right here and right now, within the half-light of this forge, but the sight of the young man in front of him more than made up for the disappointment about the not-exactly-happy course of this day.

The slender, tall figure, the shoulder-length, almost black hair, the dark brown eyes, and the fine facial features of the young blacksmith left no room for doubt: This lad was the son of Bill Turner and Elianor Cole, and more than twenty years ago, he and Caith had even agreed to a mutiny to take him and his mother safely to London aboard the "Eagle's Wing".

So many years ago, this boy had playfully defended his 'Lady Caith' against imaginary villains in Sir Edwin's gardens, and had then asked her if she would agree to marry him one day, when he would have become a famous captain of a famous vessel himself.

But, alas, Will Turner didn't seem to remember anything of their shared past: His gaze, if not hostile, was not exactly pleased either, as he eyed him suspiciously, and so Jack decided it wasn't yet time to reveal anything about said shared past.

He knew it wouldn't be long before a better opportunity would present itself for it...

There was a moment of silence between them until the young blacksmith, until Will Turner stepped back and asked: "You're the one they're hunting. The pirate!"

Still unwilling to reveal anything, but still curious to know if the boy really didn't remember or if he didn't want to remember, Jack decided to try another way to get to an answer: "And you seem somewhat familiar ... have I threatened you before?"

"I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates," the lad replied sternly, and all self-assured.

By the looks of it, it was obviously still too early to ask the boy anything about his past, so Jack decided it was time for him to make his exit - for now: "Well, then it would be a shame to put a black mark on your record. So if you'll excuse me ..."

With that, he wanted to turn on his heel and head for the door, but the lad blocked his path, sword in hand.

Jack looked at him, hoping to find at least the tiniest sign of recognition in his eyes, but there was nothing, and so he merely added: "Do you think this wise, boy? Crossing blades with a pirate?"

Jack was prepared for a lot, just not for the answer Will now gave him in a somewhat challenging tone: "You threatened Miss Swann."

"Only a little," he replied with a knowing smile as he ran the blade of his sword along the blade of the boy: "And you may probably be keen to hear, mate, that she took the risk of helping me escape - right under the watchful eyes of her father and dashing Commodore Norrington."

Surprise shone within Will's eyes at this disclosure, and Jack was sure this would become the best opportunity to escape the forge for now.

'Sword fighting is like dancing...'

Patrick Swallow's voice echoed inside his head, and Jack inwardly smiled at the memory of all those hours, he and Caith had been forced to devote to those lessons, and as it seemed, it was once again time for a dance at the tip of a sword - and Jack decided to attack.

Will turned out to be a clever opponent as they exchanged and parried some quick thrusts and feints, but what did he expect?

After all, this boy's mother had been an elegant swordswoman herself, and Jack grinned as he said: "You know what you're doing, I'll give you that ... Excellent form ... But how's your footwork? If I step here... Very good! And now I step again..."

Circling each other like elegant dancers, both followed the choreography of their steps and the rhythm of their thrusts and parries until they had finally swapped places and faced each other again: That and nothing else was what Jack had wanted, as the door, and thus the way out of this mess were now only a stone's throw away.

Turning his back on the perfectly puzzled Will with a satisfied grin, Jack headed for the door, sure that only a wink still separated him from his escape to freedom - but he hadn't reckoned on Will's determination to keep him from doing so.

With his sword back on his belt, Jack was just about to reach for the door handle when Will's sword whizzed past his head, pierced the door lock, and got stuck in the wood - that deep that it was impossible to pull it out, without destroying the door entirely...

Jack stared in disbelief at the sword, which was now stuck right in front of his nose, before attempting to pull the thing out of the lock with all his might.

To no avail!

Frustration, anger and desperation were reflected in his eyes as he turned to look at Will, who seemed quite pleased with himself, and he was unable to hide the hint of sarcasm that now permeated his words: "That is a wonderful trick, lad. Except, once again, you are between me and my way out. And now you have no weapon."

This was only half the story, however, for this was a blacksmith's shop, and this blacksmith's shop was stuffed to the ceiling with swords and other elaborately crafted weapons. Not to mention all the tools that were also lying around...

Knowing he had no choice, Jack drew his sword once more, the point aimed at the young man in front of him. He had no intention of hurting Bill and Elianor's son, let alone killing him, but he was running out of time, and the longer he was stuck here in the forge, the greater the chance that he would be found after all.

Jack watched Will intently as he picked up a new blade from one of the stands near him, and he beheld that one and all the extraordinarily beautiful weapons of that set, not without admiration, and full of respect for the smith's talent: "Who makes all these?"

"I do," Will replied as their blades clashed again: "And I practice with them three hours a day!"

"Three hours a day?"

Jack couldn't hide a smile at this. Three hours a day was quite some time! Not even Patrick had forced him and Caithleen to train that long, during their elsewise endless 'Lessons in Piracy' as he had used to call it.

"You clearly need to find yourself a girl, mate," Jack considered: "Or, perhaps the reason you practice three hours a day is that you already found one and are otherwise incapable of wooing said strumpet?"

Jack looked at Will from head to toe and back and added even more to the lad's confusion, asking: "You're not a eunuch, are you?"

As with the two soldiers Jack had encountered on the pier earlier that day, the arrow hit its aim again! Slightly peeved at Jack's obvious ability to read him like an open book, Will replied as to justify himself without admitting that Jack might possibly be right: "I practice three hours a day so that when I meet a pirate … I can kill it."

It was at that very moment that he was about to pull off a feint that should have easily disarmed that same pirate, but much to Will's surprise, was Jack able not only to ward said feint off, but to respond to it in order to use and turn it into his advantage...

Will stared at him in disbelief as Jack's next strike snatched the sword from his hand, and when, at the same moment, he found himself faced with the pirate's pistol, now aimed squarely at his brow.

Jack almost felt sorry for the boy, but if he finally wanted to get past him and out of the forge, this had been the only way.

The feint Will had been trying to use had been invented by his mother, Elianor, and Jack had no doubt that she had taught her son to use it from a very young age on. The parry and the answer to Elianor's feint, however, only three other people knew, besides him:

Patrick Swallow, Rosalind Stevens and his beloved Caith.

Pat and Rose had taught them two this during their countless lessons in swordsmanship, and they were a quick and easy way to confuse and disarm an opponent without bloodshed.

"There should be no parry to this feint!"

Will tried to understand what had just happened, and Jack's reply confused him even more: "At least none, the one would know, who taught you that feint. Savvy?"

"And who taught you that feint and how to parry it?" Will wanted to know.

"If I'd tell you, I'd lose the advantage it means for me, and you'll surely agree that giving its secret and with it its vantage away, would be clearly downright stupid, wouldn't it?"

"You cheated!"

"Pirate!"

Just as Jack and Will were about to make another try to find out who had cheated whom in their duel, loud voices could be heard outside the forge, and someone tried to open the door quite violently - to no avail, thanks to Will's sword still blocking the lock.

Jack knew Norrington and his men would be waiting for him at the front door, and ahead of him, Will Turner was still blocking his escape route through the back door, the only escape he had left. Therefore, he cocked his pistol, and aimed again at the boy's forehead: "Move!"

The boy shook his head, determined not to let him escape, but Jack tried again, pleading with the lad: "Please, move!"

Then, when Will still didn't move, he added, emphasising every word: "This shot is not meant for you, Will Turner!"

Jack didn't get to thinking any more about how he could still convince the boy to let him go.

Something hit him in the head and he collapsed unconsciously: The old blacksmith had awakened from his drunkenness and had outright hit him with one of the empty bottles, just as the soldiers managed to break down the front door to the forge.

It was James Norrington who entered now, followed by a full squad of his men, and a satisfied smile curled his lips as he found the unconscious pirate lying on the ground in front of him.

"Take him away," he ordered, "and make sure he won't miss his appointment with the gallows again. I'm sure this day will be remembered by all of us for a long time as the day Captain Jack Sparrow almost escaped!"

Will watched the soldiers drag the pirate out of the workshop and began to wonder if he shouldn't have let him get away after all...

Jack Sparrow...

The name spoke to him.

But why?

Chapter Text

1739 - Imprisoned

Before Jack fully regained consciousness, he already heard the voices of two men, who seemingly kept him company, wherever this was supposed to be.

Thanks to that overzealous blacksmith, and that bloody rum bottle, the man had smashed on his head, he was still too dazed to tell, who those two were, who were discussing in here that vividly right now, but if asked, he would have placed a wager on them talking about him.

Unfortunately, the headache emanating from the bruise, the bottle had left on the back of his head, didn't make thinking any easier either, but after a while he decided, it might be of help to have a careful look around the room, they had taken him to.

From what he could make out through his half-closed eyelids, this wasn't a cell, but one of the garrison's offices, and the room contained little more than a writing desk, which took up most of the space, two chairs, and the simple berth he had obviously rested on after they had taken him prisoner.

However, his attention was soon drawn from his surroundings back to the conversation between the two men, who were still engaged in their lively discussions.

"No, Andrew, I have no intention of following that order."

"But, sir! James! This applies to all garrisons and ports within the East India Trading Company's sphere of influence."

"Then the East India Trading Company's officials should possibly send someone to take their prisoners to England, don't you agree? I'm a soldier in service of the Royal Navy, not the servant of some ambitious upstart who can't wait to mistreat a man who's already waiting for the gallows anyway."

"Even if this man is a pirate?"

"Even if this man is a pirate!"

There was silence for a few moments, and Jack couldn't help but wonder at what he had just heard.

Norrington, despite his taunting remarks about his talents as a pirate and sailor, had already prevented his soldiers from treating him, Jack, unduly roughly down on the pier earlier today, and as it seemed he was in no way keen on being demoted to the command of the East India Trading Company.

"Commodore! What if Lord Beckett receives word about this? Don't you know that he has a personal interest in this prisoner?"

"By the time Lord Beckett receives any kind of word or note of this incident, we will have already done our duty to the Crown and the King. In that case, he's welcome to charge me with treason. I just doubt he'll succeed."

"Yes, sir! But what about Sparrow...!"

"Listen to me Andrew! Whether it pleases you personally or not, Mister Sparrow is a prisoner of the Port Royal garrison, and therefore a prisoner under my custody. I have no intention of making a name for myself by having prisoners tortured for no reason! This applies to pirates as well as to any other prisoner of this garrison! I may not like the deeds they have committed, or the reasons why they are kept in one of our cells, but I have no intention of waging my personal campaign against one of those men. And that seems to me to be what motivates Lord Beckett: Personal revenge! I don't know what happened between him and Sparrow, but I have no intention of throwing Sparrow to someone as consumed with vengeance and ambition as Lord Beckett! Did I make myself clear, Lieutenant Gillette!"

"That's understood, sir!"

"Good! Then let's continue as discussed. I want you to relieve Groves aboard the 'Dauntless' and take the watch until noon tomorrow. I may need him more urgently here than aboard."

"At your command!" There was another moment of silence before Gillette cleared his throat and asked: "I heard you proposed to Miss Swann? Do you have an answer yet? Is there something to celebrate soon?"

"No, not yet!" Norrington's reply sounded thoughtful: "It's probably too early after a day like this. Let's give her some more time."

"Well then, I wish you the best of luck!"

Gillette turned on his heel, greeted Norrington, formally - "Commodore!" - and left.

Eyes still half closed and still lying motionless in his berth, Jack waited for the footsteps of the soldier to die down the hall before asking: "Since you obviously don't know what happened between the pirate in your custody and the ambition-crazed chairman of the East India Trading Company, why don't you take the chance to ask said pirate in your custody some questions about it? Or is it that you're afraid the pirate in your custody's response could make you realise that even pirates are not always what they appear to be, and that it might be easier to avoid such unpleasant answers by not asking the pirate in your custody any questions at all, eh?"

"I should have known you overheard our conversation, Sparrow," Norrington replied, astonishingly calm.

"Sorry for that, mate!" Jack sat up: "That wasn't actually my intention. But I was surprised to hear, you refused to hand over to Lord Beckett the very pirate he had longed for so badly for so long." He looked at Norrington curiously for a while, and then added in astonishment: "You really don't know what happened, do you?"

"I serve other ideals, Mister Sparrow, than those of some enterprising merchant who cannot keep his hands off politics and who thinks that commanding a merchant fleet also makes him capable of commanding the war fleet."

"And yet you put yourself in the service of one of those enterprising merchants by keeping the pirate here in the garrison, which he apparently lusts after so much as to have him hanged sometime in the days to come."

"Had I been so interested in satisfying the lusts of one Lord Cutler Beckett, Mister Sparrow, I would have sent you to London aboard the next best ship without giving a thought about what its crew would possibly might have in mind concerning you. You are a prisoner at the Port Royal garrison because you are a pirate, not because I dared to interfere in any kind of personal animosity!"

"Then you really believe that a brand like this is enough to identify a man a real pirate?" Jack pushed the sleeve of his shirt up his forearm until the scar, the 'P', became visible, Beckett had burned so deep and so brutally into his skin that it still caused him pain from time to time. "And it never occurred to you before to give a thought to the possibility that one man could have branded another like that for an entirely different reason?"

Norrington looked at him questioningly, but didn't answer, so, Jack continued: "By the time Lord Beckett decided to burn that 'P' into me, and thereby forever destroy my life, my dreams and everything I could have ever achieved, overnight, I had already been captain aboard one of the Company's vessels for almost ten years. First, as a privateer and cartographer, and later aboard a merchant vessel. Savvy?"

"Well," Norrington looked at him across the desk: "I think there must certainly have been reasons why such a punishment seemed appropriate."

"Lord Beckett tried several times to persuade me to ship slaves over to the colonies in his name."

"In my honest opinion, that's something that doesn't necessarily make the man more likeable..." Norrington confessed, much to Jack's surprise.

"As you can imagine, that was my thought as well, but since the man is clever, he still succeeded with tricking me into his barbaric business: By assuring me it would remain a one-time matter of urgency, and by assuring me that there was no other captain at his disposal at that time."

"Let me have a guess: Your conscience put a spanner in his works?"

"You could call it that. My crew and I agreed about sending the poor souls crammed in the ship's hold ashore on an uninhabited island. Prior to that, we had disembarked the officers and officials at a nearby port, Beckett had sent aboard to keep an eye upon us, and as soon as we returned from our crossing we got detained near the African coast."

"I'm surprised to hear you actually returned. You must have known there would be consequences."

"I knew there would be consequences. Of course, I knew! But I also knew, I was one of those few captains in the company's service who had brought them a plethora of profits and at the same time had lost only one ship in all those years. Well, you know it yourself, Commodore: Whatever you do, every action causes a reaction. I refused to reveal the bearings of the isle whereon I set the slaves free, and Lord Beckett decided that from that day on my life should be worth less than nothing. I got branded a pirate because I was willing to trade my life in for the sake of some innocent people, and from that day on, I had no other choice but to live the life of a pirate - and if I think of all the cruel deeds, supposedly honourable men commit, I cannot say I ever regretted having become a supposedly dishonourable man..."

"Maybe, you should have given up those bearings..."

"No, mate! There's no treasure worth more than freedom!"

On the evening of the same day, Jack was sitting in one of the cells at the Port Royal garrison fortress: Deep in thought, his tricorn on his head, and his longing gaze fixed on the ships anchored in the bay below.

His dream of sailing into the sunset aboard the "Interceptor" had ended shattered into a thousand pieces - along with that bloody rum bottle having turned out to be his personal mishap, earlier that day.

Neither would he sail to Tortuga aboard the elegant two-master, nor would he get a chance to search for his own ship anytime soon.

He let out a sigh.

Within just a few hours, the "Black Pearl" seemed to be more out of reach for him than ever before. And given his prospects at the moment, the only way out of this cell would lead him straight to the gallows.

The gallows, indeed...

These thoughts brought him almost immediately back to the strangely amazing conversation, he and Norrington had held in the afternoon.

Nothing would have been able to prepare him for the unexpected awareness that in some ways this man was more like him than he would ever have dared to imagine. He was still amazed by the behaviour of this soldier who, although he made no secret out of his wish to see him hang the next day, still cared about his physical well-being. Norrington had made sure a doctor looked at the bruise on his head, and even now, he lacked nothing but his freedom and a ship.

Besides this, the newly appointed Commodore had taken care that there would be no torture or other humiliation inflicted on his prisoners, which not only applied to him, Jack, but also to the small group of pirates who were locked in the neighbouring cell. They were all free to move about in their cell, and they all went without shackles or chains.

Howsoever, also the pirates, who had been locked in the cell next door for a couple of days, were destined for the gallows, and none of them shared Jack's confidence that there was a way out of almost every situation: Even if it might seem hopeless at first glance.

Therefore, they had devised their own plan, and it involved, making the big grey dog guarding the cells their accomplice by luring him with a huge, half-gnawed bone. And not without good reason, because the mangy Irish Wolfhound not only guarded the cells, but also the keys to the cells, and he carried them with him wherever he went. The animal was not vicious, by no means, but, at times, it seemed as if he would sit just far enough out of the men's reach that an arm's length would not be enough to grab the keys, and so the men not only tried to bait him with the bone, but with just about everything from honeyed blarney to nasty curses.

After having watched the men for a while, and after having listened to their fruitless tries to lure the dog, Jack squinted out from under his tricorn and turned around, telling them: "You can keep doing that forever, the dog is never going to move."

The answer came promptly, and everyone turned back to the dog: "Oh, excuse us if we haven't resigned ourselves to the gallows just yet!"

Jack shrugged inwardly at this reply, and he was just about to surrender back to his thoughts when one of the men from the next cell addressed him: "You're Jack Sparrow, aren't you?"

"That would depend on who would want to know that, mate..."

"I've seen you a few times in Tortuga, lad. Along with Bill Turner. And even before that, on Shipwreck Island. Long before they allowed you to set sail, for the first time...!"

What was that?

All of a sudden Jack was wide awake.

Receiving news about Bill Turner at this point in time was as strange as it was welcome.

Even more so, as Jack hadn't heard anything from his old friend ever since the mutiny Barbossa had instigated against him, and ever since his last visit to Elianor in London.

At least, nothing but rumours!

For about ten long years!

That made Jack all the more curious and all the more anxious to hear some recentness about someone he knew, missed, and cared about, and so he beheld the sailor for a moment before giving him his reply: "It's true, mate, I sailed together with Bill, but how come you know him?"

Jack knew it was always wise to be cautious if it came to disclosing anything about himself that might have meant a benefit to someone else, even more in times like these, where the English had managed to hire a lot of spies from among the pirates.

Be it as it may, in this case, Jack was pretty sure this stranger would mean no threat to him. He was an old salt who must have sailed the seven seas already, long before anyone at the fortress of Shipwreck Cove would have imagined that Captain Teague might have a son, one day.

The old sea dog grinned and told Jack: "Turner and I sailed with Barbossa until one fine day the English scuttled our ship right under our buns. Before that, the captain and Turner kept having heated discussions and arguments about the course, the next prize, or the next headings, so, it really surprised me when I heard he hired with Barbossa again, after that."

"He didn't, mate. Bill hired with me, not with Barbossa."

"So, there is some truth to the rumours, then that Jack Sparrow is the one who wants to send Barbossa to hell?"

"Aye, there is some truth to those rumours, and I have more than one good reason for it, you can believe me that! But what about Bill? Where can I find him?"

"How come you're asking me that, lad? Don't you know what happened to Turner?"

Jack shook his head, but he had a premonition: "I have not the slightest idea! I've only heard rumours for the last ten years gone by - nothing else."

"They say there was a mutiny aboard the ship Turner and Barbossa sailed on, and also that the crew marooned the captain on some godforsaken spit of land. It appears, Turner did not approve of the mutiny, nor any of the other things that transpired aboard. So, Barbossa decided without further ado to throw him overboard with a weight on his feet. Not exactly the way you want to spend your last hour, is it..."

"True enough, but it sounds a lot like Barbossa..."

Jack fell silent after this disclosure...

No, he had not known it, but he had feared it.

Ever since that night, when Bill had asked for his forgiveness after having agreed to the mutiny.

And so, in the end, Bill Turner had really paid the price for having dared to speak up against the decisions made aboard the "Pearl" - and for having sent a piece of the cursed Treasure of Cortez to London.

So it was true, then, and all he had left of the beautiful and peaceful life on an unknown island amid the Caribbean were memories, a little cottage on the cliffs high above a picturesque bay, and a locket in which he kept two strands of hair and two slowly fading miniatures...

Chapter Text

1739 - About Curses and Dreams

The weather had changed throughout the day, and as night fell, the wind blew in from the sea, bringing with it a cool and salty breeze.

Wisps of cloud swept across the sky, intermittently revealing the full moon hanging high in the sky over the Caribbean Sea, until, shortly before midnight and absorbing every sound, a dense fog surged into Port Royal bay.

Up in the fort, the men in their cells were restless. Unable to sleep they tried to cheer each other up by telling stories, and while they anxiously kept one ear listening for suspicious noises from outside, Jack dozed soundly in his niche by the window, his tricorn pulled down over his brow and drifting off into the land of dreams...

Silence!

It was all silent around him.

Not a bird sang its song in the bushes, not a breath of wind rustled the leaves in the trees, and not a wave broke on the shore in the endless rhythm of the tides. All around him was just stillness, blazing sunlight, and the white, hard-baked sand that stretched to the horizon and beyond as far as the eye could see.

No bushes, no trees, no beach...

He sat in the shades of the only rise around him, but he couldn't see what it was that granted him at least some shelter from the mercilessly burning sun.

Shadows danced before his eyes, like phantoms, hallucinations, maybe. They seemed to be talking to him, but he didn't understand what they were saying.

He tried desperately to ask those shadows what it was they wanted to tell him, but as little as he could hear them, he could speak to them. His lips formed words, but he couldn't get them out. Instead, he heard a voice inside his head, he had hoped he would never have to hear again:

'Do you fear death?'

'No,' he answered: 'No! Not my own...'

'Why would you fear it, then? Death is not always what it seems to be! Did you forget that?'

'You told me, there is no way to bring her back...'

'I told you, there's no way for me to bring her back...'

The voice in his head died away, making way for another:

'What do you love most...?'

All of a sudden the landscape changed and he found himself in an idyllic place, exotic, lovely, imbued with ancient magic and enchantment.

Everything there breathed peace and tranquillity, enchanting those who could discern with its wild, natural beauty, capable of healing even the most troubled soul.

An age-old spring, framed by a beautiful fountain, released a lively brook that flowed over cascades and waterfalls towards a picturesque valley with lush meadows and forests. Unsung flowers and blossoms gave off a mild sweet fragrance, and colourful birds such as he had never seen before sat in dense brushwood and in tall trees and sang songs he had never heard before.

It was a landscape as lovely as if it had sprung from a beautiful dream, and yet it seemed to serve only one purpose - to push him into an abyss of despair...

'What do you love most...?'

The voice resounded within his head again, and he found that he wasn't alone...

Scattered around the fountain and throughout the entire magical place, many overgrown with plants, some half-crumbled to dust, lay the mortal remains of countless adventurers and other fearnaughts - and none of them had come here because they longed for inner peace or tranquillity.

They failed to appreciate the beauty of the exotic blossoms, looking as if they were made of the finest china.

They had no interest in the sweet air, which heavy scent of honey was so ethereal and at the same time so sensual, so beguiling.

Without even looking at them, they marched along the narrow, cleverly laid paths which seemed to blend into their surroundings, and they startled the colourful birds that had once been guileless and trusting, but now only fled the brutal invaders, their crudity and their greed.

The adventurers who had breathed their dying breath here had not come to pay homage to the beauty of this place, they came lusting after eternal youth and beauty, unwilling or unable to recognise that they had long been surrounded and permeated by it.

No, he wasn't alone in this magical place!

Trampled flowers, uprooted trees and the smell of gunpowder in the air were proof enough of the sacrilege done to this place of ancient magic, and even now another battle raged in its picturesque and magical surroundings. He couldn't see who the fighters were, but he understood one thing:

The purity and innocence of this unique site got destroyed forever.

The spring and well lay in ruins, and death and ruin had struck everything around him that had once been devoted to life. And still those insatiable intruders struggled for some last drops of the mysterious water which seemed to shimmer from within and which promised so much.

Full of sorrow, his eyes fell on what the battle had left behind: the dead, the blood-reddened water of the small rivulet, the ruins of the centuries-old fountain...

Then a shot cracked, and the voice inside his head asked him again: 'What do you love most?'

He saw himself desperately searching for two richly adorned chalices.

He saw himself with blood-smeared hands desperately trying to draw some water from the spring.

And he saw the blood being washed and carried away by the little rivulet...

'What do you love most?'

He saw himself on his knees, holding a lifeless figure in his arms, his face buried in her shoulder, as he got shaken with sobs with his eyes blinded by tears. The blood that covered his hands was hers, and the water that ran through his hands was not water...

'What do you love most?'

He wasn't here to search for eternity! He wasn't seeking eternal youth, eternal happiness, or eternal beauty!

'What do you love most? What do you love most? What do you love most?'

He didn't want to hear it any more!

He didn't want anything for himself!

He knew what he wanted!

He knew what he loved most!

The water he wanted to scoop into his cupped hands was meant for her and all he wanted was his freedom, his ship, and... her...!

"Caithleen...!"

Jack's eyes flashed open, the moment when the first balls smashed into the battlements and some of the frame houses near the bay.

"I know those guns!"

All at once wide awake, he jumped onto the ledge of the barred window to look down at Port Royal and out over the bay. He squinted into the moonlit night, and no one needed to tell him what was happening as more and more houses burst into flames.

Shrouded in a bank of fog, a ship had entered Port Royal bay, silent as a black shadow, the black flag hoisted, its sails little more than tattered black rags:

A black silhouette against the clear nightly sky and the full moon's ghostly light.

The crew aboard were constantly firing out of all guns, and there was no doubt the men were preparing to raid the former infamous pirate hideout that was Port Royal.

"It's the Pearl!"

There was a wistful undertone to Jack's words, and his eyes were full of longing as he stared down at the ship and into the bay.

Hearing his whispered words made the men in the neighbouring cell even more nervous than they already were, and even the old sea dog who had told him about Bill Turner seemed nervous and frightened. They all looked at him in disbelief, eyes wide, barely able to think straight, and unable to hide their rising panic.

"The 'Black Pearl'?"

The pirate, who had assured him earlier that afternoon that he had not yet come to terms with his fate and the gallows, could barely bring himself to say the name of the ship.

"I would recognize her anywhere and anytime, mate, even blindfolded...!"

"Then how can you remain so calm at the sight of her? Don't you know the stories that are told about her? I've heard she's been preying on ships and settlements for near ten years and never leaves any survivors."

"No survivors?" Jack smiled at this, and added in amusement, while beholding the man over his shoulder: "Then where do all the stories come from, I wonder?"

"You seem quite unfazed by all those tales about the eerie black ship that leaves only smoking debris and devastation behind wherever it goes," the older pirate now addressed him: "I for my part don't know of any ship that ever survived an encounter with the 'Pearl' unscathed. Not to mention all the other rumours surrounding her - an undead crew driven by an insatiable lust for gold and a captain so merciless, that hell itself spat him back out."

"Why would one of those stories be able to impress me, mate?" Jack looked at the old salt intently as he replied: "Didn't you already answer your own questions when you told me about Turner and Barbossa, eh? Why do you think would I be hunting for Barbossa if I'd not have a reason? The ship on which the mutiny took place, Barbossa instigated, was the 'Black Pearl', and the captain left behind by the crew on that godforsaken spit of land was me."

"You were captain of the 'Black Pearl'?"

"Yes, mate, I was captain of the 'Black Pearl', and for ten years to date I've been hunting for Barbossa and my treacherous crew! Savvy!"

That said, Jack turned back to the window, heaving a sigh.

Since the night he and van Dijk had anchored the "Stella Maris" near Isla de Muerta, and since that day, when his "Withered Rose" was brought up by the English and the Spanish together, he hadn't been as close to his ship as he was tonight. But it seemed he was once again doomed not to get any closer to her, and all he could do was look at her half longingly and half in despair.

It was at this moment that the "Pearl" fired another salvo towards the fortress, and Jack had to dodge for cover with a foolhardy leap when one of the cannonballs ... hit the cell next door ...

After the dust settled, and after the men in the neighbouring cell had overcome their first shock, stumbling back to their feet, coughing and spluttering, they caught their chance to escape the gallows that would have been waiting for them the next morning: "My sympathies, friend, you've no manner of luck at all!"

With that they crawled through the breach in the wall into the moonlit night, and disappeared with relieved laughter.

Jack was left alone in his cell, and getting up slowly, he had to realise:

The hole in his part of the wall was far too narrow to squeeze through. Even for him...

Jack gave himself up to his frustration for a moment.

Had he still thought upon his arrival in Port Royal this morning, the day would end with him hunting for his beloved "Pearl" aboard the "Interceptor" in the evening, the events of the very same day had taught him otherwise.

Obviously it was Barbossa who was on the hunt - but after what?

After the golden coin, young Miss Swann had taken away from young Will Turner, years ago, in order to protect him, and which she now wore as a necklace?

Could it be that Barbossa and his crew knew where to look for those coins of Aztec Gold?

Was that why the "Pearl" came to Port Royal today out of all days?

Because the gold had called to them?

Questions upon questions and no answers that would make any sense at all at this point in time.

Jack grimaced.

As long as he would sit in this cell, he certainly wouldn't find any answers to his questions... and then, just in that moment, he felt the movement in the back of the corridor leading to the cells.

There, the bunch of keys still between his teeth, the wolfhound had crept under a bench - probably as frightened by the cannon fire as the pirates were before.

With a grin, Jack decided it was time to shake off his disappointment and whatever part of his pride that had kept him from considering this possibility of getting the keys.

He dropped to one knee and groped for the gnawed bone the other pirates had left behind in their escape. It took him some effort, and he had to stretch quite a bit to get to it, but then a spark of triumph flashed in his eyes, and, the bone in his hand, he reached out into the corridor through the bars of his cell: "Come on, doggie... it's just you and me now. It's just you and ol' Jack, come on... That's a good boy, come on! Bit closer, bit closer."

Caught between surprise and satisfaction, Jack found his strategy to be working as the dog slowly began to crawl toward him, and so he kept luring the animal with a mix of honeyed phrases "That's it, that's it, doggie" and impatient sarcasm "Come on you filthy, slimy, mangy cur".

Along with the dog, inch by inch, the keys came crawling towards him, so that soon he only had to stretch out his hand to get hold of the ring on which the keys hung.

There was only a little bit left when the dog suddenly seemed to get nervous.

A noise from the guardroom above the stairs made his ears prick up - and with a quick leap, fur bristling, he ran and leaped down the corridor, past the cells, and out of reach of any of Jack's planned attempts to grab the keys. Off ran the dog, and Jack had to watch on helplessly how the scared animal vanished round the corner together with the keys: "No, no, no, don't do that. No, no, I didn't mean it. I didn't..."

He didn't have much time to think about whether or how he could lure the dog back, or what other way he could get out of the cell.

A shot cracked upstairs in the guardroom, and the lifeless body of the soldier on duty fell down the steps - someone had shot him cold-blooded and without hesitation.

Jack strained his eyes toward the stairs, unsure of what or who was making its way through the fort from there.

There was much he would have expected, but he had not been prepared to ever see the two men again as they descended the steps to the cells.

Both had once been part of his crew aboard the "Black Pearl", and they had played a not inconsiderable part in the fact that at some point Barbossa had finally consented to the mutiny.

Both of them had never liked the idea that he, Jack, had prevented every senseless bloodshed and every unnecessary sinking of an enemy ship as a matter of principle, and they had never made a secret of the fact that they therefore thought him weak.

Koehler and Twigg!

Jack, bone still in hand, slowly stood up and watched the two of them look around.

A storm raged behind his brow, and he had to muster whatever patience he could find deep within to restrain his rising fury, and to keep himself from doing anything stupid - for only the bars of his cell prevented him from lunging at the two mutineers right on the spot.

"This ain't the armoury."

Disappointed at not having found what they were apparently looking for, Twigg was about to turn on his heels when he saw Koehler beckoning him to join him, and so he sauntered over to take a look at what was to be seen there.

"Well, well, well... Look what we have here, Twigg. Captain Jack Sparrow."

Koehler spat on the floor in front of the cell, eyes fixed on Jack, making no secret of what he thought of his former captain.

Twigg cocked his head, glared at Jack, and scoffed as he peered into the cell as well: "Last time I saw you, you were all alone on a god-forsaken island, shrinking into the distance. Seems his fortunes aren't improved much."

Both burst into cynical laughter, unperturbed by their former captain's scowl.

Tight to the last fibre of his body with barely restrained fury, Jack stepped closer to the barred cell door to get a better view of the two men in the cold full-moon light, then he explained in a dangerously calm voice: "Worry about your own fortunes, gentlemen. The deepest circle of hell is reserved for betrayers ... and mutineers."

It was not without reason that he emphasised the last word, both Koehler and Twigg knew that - and both disliked what Jack was trying to tell them:

Mutiny still remained one of the worst crimes to be committed at sea, and Jack did make it clear that he would not let the men get away with it, should he somehow manage to escape his prison.

It was at that very moment that Koehler grabbed his throat through the bars - and Jack found it hard to hide his surprise as he got to witness what happened next. Eyes wide, he stared at the arm and hand of the man who still held him in a firm grip: In the silvery moonlight, both had turned into skeletal limbs...

Rather intrigued than shocked, he then murmured more to himself than to the two pirates: "So there is a curse. That's interesting."

With a sneer, Koehler pushed Jack back into the cell before releasing him and withdrawing his hand. In the dim light of the torches and lanterns that lit the corridor, both his hand and arm looked like any other man's again.

"You know nothing of hell," he snorted, motioning for Twigg to follow him back upstairs.

Jack watched them as they vanished into the darkness like a bad dream, then looked at the bone he still kept in his hand and whispered: "That's very interesting."

After this encounter with Koehler and Twigg, one thing was for sure: All the rumours surrounding the Treasure of Cortez and the curse that was said to be upon it were actually true. And it seemed, Barbossa and his crew had found much more on the Isla de Muerta than just a legendary pot of gold, which would finally explain why they were so frantic about recovering all the golden coins they had squandered in ports all around the Caribbean and the Spanish Main.

"So, there's not only a curse, but also a way to break it," Jack mused: "And those heavy golden coins must have something to do with it, too. Just what...?'

Deep in thoughts he strolled back over to the window, and as he looked down at the bay once more, he suddenly realised that he must have been extremely fortunate in all his misfortune.

In the end, the mutiny and his crew's eagerness to maroon him on that godforsaken island had saved him from becoming affected by the curse as well.

He grinned: Maybe the perfect reason to thank Barbossa for that one day...

Chapter Text

1739 - Striking Bargains

At daybreak smoke and the smell of burning still hung over Port Royal, and the light of the rising sun revealed the true extent of the devastation caused by the nightly raid on the city.

Like a shadow in the night, the "Black Pearl" had disappeared as silently and eerily as she had appeared, leaving death, destruction, and wounded in her wake once again. The soldiers of the garrison and the townspeople had spent the whole night putting out fires and helping the injured, and Jack fervently hoped that Norrington and his men would be too busy restoring order to the town to remember that they had actually planned to hang a pirate at break of dawn.

He hadn't slept a wink. Too much did his thoughts revolve around the "Pearl" and his encounter with Koehler and Twigg.

His ship was once again out of reach for him for now, but what had begun ten years ago with a hunt for treasure and a mutiny was now beginning to coalesce into a complete picture in his mind's eye.

Barbossa had marooned him because he had been unwilling to risk his ship and crew in a hunt for some possibly cursed Aztec gold. Shortly thereafter, the initially successful treasure hunt quickly turned out to become a ten-year nightmare for Barbossa and his crew of mutineers, and the curse, which the men had scoffed at before, had invariably turned them into a crew of the undead - doomed to roam between the worlds until they would be able to regain the gold down to the last coin.

This would remain an impossible task for them until they would succeed in bringing back also the coin which Bill Turner, anticipating his death, had sent to his wife and son in England - convinced that Barbossa and his crew deserved to be cursed and to remain cursed...

Barbossa would probably never come to know how close he had gotten to that one remaining coin when he sank "HMS Resilience", on which Bill's son and his step-parents had hoped to get to Port Royal to start a new life.

All their destinies were now inevitably intertwined, and it seemed Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann were the keys to solving the last part of this mystery.

The Key!

That was, in the truest meaning of the word, the keyword to his problem!

After the dog disappeared with the keys never to be seen again, after the hole in the outer wall of his prison was too narrow for him to slip through, and after Koehler and Twigg hadn't proved very helpful either - at least not when it came to his escape - Jack had decided to try his luck with the gnawed bone once again. And with overwhelming patience, with swearing "Bugger", pleading "Please" and a good dose of hope, he tried whatever he could think of to somehow get that blasted lock open.

To no avail!

After several failed attempts of opening the cell door, Jack somewhen heard noises from the guardroom again. Not knowing who was making his way down to him, he decided he would better pretend to be still asleep while he awaited what was yet to come, and while he watched the stairs with half-closed eyes.

Much to his surprise, the unexpected morning visitor was none other than the young blacksmith: Will Turner!

It seemed the young man knew exactly what he wanted and who he was looking for, as he headed straight for Jack's cell, wasting no time in addressing the man he had refused to let escape just a day earlier: "You! Sparrow!"

Jack opened his eyes, slowly, as if he were still slightly sleepy, but his gaze curiously fixed on the lad: "Aye!"

Will looked at him half-inquiring, half-suspicious, obviously feeling unsettled by the question of whether bargaining with a pirate was the right thing to do: "You are familiar with that ship? The 'Black Pearl'?"

Jack rose up on his elbows, trying to look as disinterested as he was able to, when he replied: "I've heard of it!"

Will's eyes lit up in joyful surprise when he heard Jack's reply:

Apparently, if he wanted to find out about the things that had been burning under his nails since last night, this was the place for him, and he was sure he would also get an answer to his next question: "Where does it make berth?"

"Where does it make berth?" Jack frowned and narrowed his eyes at what the boy was asking him. He wondered if it was wise to tell him the truth that Bill and Elianor had wisely kept from their son.

But did he have a choice?

If he didn't know anything about it, the boy at least had a hunch, and since hunches could very often be far more dangerous than knowledge, Jack decided to try the truth: "Have you not heard the stories? Captain Barbossa and his crew of miscreants sail from the dreaded Isla de Muerta, an island that cannot be found except by those who already know where it is."

"The ship's real enough, as are the damage, the dead and the wounded it left behind," Will pointed out: "Therefore, its anchorage must be a real place. Where is it?"

The boy wasn't entirely wrong, but Jack wasn't ready to reveal everything he knew just yet. Instead, apparently even more uninterested in anything the boy was telling him than before, he looked at his fingernails and asked: "Why ask me?"

Will hemmed and hawed for a while, then explained: "I need your help!"

"My help?" Jack smirked: "How's that?"

"You're a pirate, aren't you..."

Bringing that out obviously took some effort from the boy, and Jack couldn't help but tease him a little more about it: "And you want to turn pirate yourself, is that it?"

"Never!"

"I'd reconsider the 'never' thing if I were you, mate," Jack said: "But tell me, why are you so keen on finding the 'Pearl'? What interest could you have in a pirate ship if you have no intention of becoming a pirate yourself?"

Finally, heaving a deep sigh, Will revealed the real reason that had led him straight here to Jack Sparrow: "They kidnapped Miss Swann, and neither Norrington nor anyone else here in the garrison is making any move to save her..."

Jack's surprise at this news was rather limited. If he didn't know, he had at least assumed that there must be some connection between the governor's daughter and the young blacksmith. After all, Weatherby Swann had taken the boy under his wing after the "HMS Resilience" incident, and the children had grown up together and become good friends - if not more, considering that the girl had taken the coin to protect the boy as she had confessed to him, Jack, on the pier the day before.

He just wondered why Barbossa had kidnapped Elizabeth Swann. Had he discovered that she possessed the coin he was chasing after?

Maybe he would be able to learn more about it if he could get Will a little more out of himself. Therefore, he remarked, half amused and half with feigned indifference: "Oh, so it is that you've found a girl. I see. Well, if you're intending to brave all, hasten to her rescue and so win fair lady's heart, you'll have to do it alone, mate. I see no profit in it for me."

"If we won't do anything, they will kill Elizabeth!"

"Better her than me!"

"Sparrow!" Will felt despair rising when Jack seemed to show no sign of interest in helping him, but then he thought of what he might be able to do to lure the reluctant pirate after all: "What if I could get you out of here?"

Jack looked at him in surprise at this disclosure: "How's that? The keys ran off!"

And he was even less prepared for Will's answer: "I helped build these cells. These are half pin-barrel hinges. With the right leverage and the proper application of strength, the door will lift free."

To back up his words - and his good will - he grabbed the wooden bench that stood against the wall, and placed it at the foot of the cell door.

Jack beheld the boy for a while, and he wished Bill and Elianor could now see their son the way he could see him: Brave, passionate and willing to fight for what was important to him.

And so he decided not to keep the young blacksmith in suspense any longer: "I don't want to get in the way of your eagerness to get me out of here, Will Turner, but I have one more question for you. Are you sure you know what this story is really about you're so keen to get into?"

Even more confused at the fact that Jack Sparrow obviously knew his name than the first time, Will replied: "I know why I'm here and I know why I want to get involved in this story as long as it's true that you can take me to Isla de Muerta..."

Jack jumped up and looked the boy straight in the face: "It's no problem for me to take you to Isla de Muerta as long as it's true that you can get me out of here..."

He hesitated for a moment, still deliberating whether he was really doing the right thing, then offered Will his hand and added: "Well, Mr. Turner, if you spring me from this cell, I swear on the pain of death, I shall take you to the 'Black Pearl' and your bonny lass. What say you? Do we have an accord ?"

Will also hesitated briefly before taking the hand Jack offered to him, and before he replied: "Agreed!"

He then positioned the bench so that her feet wedged in the bars of the cell door, used his own weight to turn it into a lever, and the door blew off its hinges.

"We have to hurry," he admonished Jack: "I'm sure someone upstairs must have heard that!"

"Not without me effects, mate!" Putting on his coat and placing the tricorn on his head, Jack then went to grasp his belongings - sword, belt, compass, and pistol hung at the wall beside his cell - just to meet Will's astonished look as he turned round.

"Why bother with that," Will asked, amazed that Jack was willing to take the risk of possible discovery for a sword, compass, and pistol that must have clearly seen better days: "You could have escaped if you killed me, but you weren't willing to use that pistol."

Jack turned to the boy, gun pointed at his forehead once more, and asked: "Are you advising me that was a mistake?" Unsure of what to think, Will didn't answer, so he added: "When you've only got one shot, it's best to wait for the opportune moment. That wasn't it." Finally, with a smile, he lowered the pistol again, telling the lad: "Nor is this..."

All of Port Royal was still in a state of excitement, and everywhere the townsfolk were busy putting out the last smouldering fires and cleaning up the mess left in their wake by the "Black Pearl". They received active support from the soldiers of the garrison, most of whom were assigned to help the shocked citizens as best they could.

Almost every street and alley in the city showed signs of the nightly attack, and with everyone who had the ability to help being busy with cleaning up, no one took note of the two young men on their way down to the harbour. What gave them an added advantage was that apparently nobody had noticed until now that not only one prisoner had escaped from the fortress under cover of night, and Jack fervently hoped that would not change in the next few hours.

His hopes got fulfilled, as nobody all around the harbour paid any attention to them, either, while they made their way to the piers.

With the ships in sight, Jack and Will finally halted near one of the quay walls and hid in its shadow.

Full of expectancy about what would happen next, the boy beheld the pirate at his side, asking himself, whether that supposedly all-resourceful Captain Jack Sparrow was really the fearnaught everyone, who had heard of him before, seemed to think he was.

Something deep inside even told Will that he too, must have heard of him before, but he couldn't and couldn't think of where or when that would have been supposed to be, and since he didn't expect to get an answer to the question of how Jack got to know him right now, either, he limited himself to another question for the time being: "How will we proceed now with our escape? Any ideas?"

Jack turned to face him and suddenly he looked all stern and seemed far from being a reckless pirate or adventurer as he replied: "Before we'll think about how to proceed, I would like to ask you a question about the adventure you are about to embark on, lad. Because, you know, without a plausible answer to that, there would be no point in even attempting this endeavour. Savvy? So, tell me, this girl, Elizabeth, how far would you be willing to go to save her?"

Jack knew how far he had gone to save his love: He had given his life for his Caithleen...

And it seemed Will was ready to do the same for the governor's daughter: "I would die for her!"

"Good," Jack replied, seeming content with what he had just heard: "Then we will now think about what we'll do next, means, first of all we need a ship if we want to get to Tortuga..."

"Tortuga?"

"Tortuga! If there's one place in the whole Caribbean that has the answers to your questions, it's Tortuga."

It didn't escape Will that Jack's gaze was wandering between the two ships anchored in Port Royal bay, and he had a vague idea of what was going behind his brow. Therefore, he asked: "So you want to steal a ship?" And further, when his gaze fell on the "Dauntless": "You want to steal that ship?"

"Commandeer," corrected Jack him, pointing at the "Interceptor": "And we're going to commandeer that ship. Nautical term..."

"How is that going to work?" Will sounded sceptical: "Surely, it didn't escape your attention that there are still a lot of soldiers on duty all around the place, this morning...?"

"How about you have a little more faith in me, Will Turner? Sometimes it's wiser to take a detour when the direct route is blocked, and that's exactly what we're going to do now."

"So you know the detour?"

"Yes, mate, I know the detour!"

Chapter Text

1739 - A Pirate's Legacy

Unnoticed and without attracting anyone's attention, Jack and Will finally reached the bay where the fishermen were usually mending their boats and nets.

However, none of them were here today, as every helping hand was needed in town - much to Jack's delight, as this fact played perfectly into his plan. He waved Will to follow him and they strolled over to the boats.

"So that's your brilliant plan," Will asked sceptically: "You want to steal one of the boats and row it straight over to the 'Dauntless'?"

"I don't know why, but somehow I expected you to be able to think a bit more like me. Of course we will not just row over to the 'Dauntless' to ask the watch if they'll be so kind to get us aboard. I've got a much better idea, lad, one that doesn't require much effort but will save us a lot of trouble. How does that sound?"

Will's look told him the boy wasn't really convinced, and he added: "What? You look like you still don't trust me."

"Would you trust a man who just told you, you need a boat but not to row anywhere?"

"Depends on the man who would be telling me that, mate," Jack replied with a knowing grin: "It's actually quite simple. We grab a boat, if possible one that doesn't have a leak, put the thing over our heads and walk straight into the water..."

"Into the water?"

Will seemed a little overwhelmed by this simple idea, for the moment - at least, that was what Jack could tell from his expression, and so he replied: "Into the water, aye, having a walk on the seabed..."

"The seabed?"

"What is your problem, Will Turner? You're determined to search for Isla de Muerta. You are willing to try your luck with pirates to find what you are searching for. You would even sacrifice your life for the woman you love. So, what have you got to lose if you dare trusting me in whatever I'm up to, eh?"

Jack pointed first to the boat, then to the bay, and continued: "I learned this little trick from a French scientist, and it has more than once saved my life or helped me out of actually hopeless situations. Believe me, it will work - as long as the boat does not come with a leak..."

Without waiting for the boy's reply, Jack dragged the still-puzzled Will with him, motioning for him to do the same as he crawled under one of the boats. Shortly thereafter they were walking at the bottom of Port Royal bay, straight towards the 'Dauntless', a boat overhead, and enough air to breathe in the cavity above them...

"This is either madness or brilliance," Will stated with a hint of admiration, before stepping into a crab trap and trying in vain to shake it off his foot as they went on heading straight for their aim.

"One day, you'll come to accept how close these two are more often than not," Jack told him, "At first I wasn't convinced, any more than you, that something like this could work - then the Frenchman proved me wrong and I had to admit that he was right and that things are not always what they seem..."

Eventually, the dark shadow of the "Dauntless" appeared above them in the bay, and they could make out the ship's massive anchor.

They tied the upside down boat to the anchor chain to keep it from floating to the surface and thus giving them away, then Jack grabbed the crab trap still hanging from Will's foot, and signalled for the boy to climb ahead. He himself would follow Will immediately, but not before he had wrapped the basket with the trap and the buoy attached to it tightly around the massive warship's rudder...

It was quiet on the deck of the "Dauntless".

With the exception of the watch detail and a small group of sailors, nobody was on board. With no further orders awaiting, the men were busy scrubbing the deck, mending sails, checking ropes and rigging for damage and replacing them if necessary.

Lieutenant Gillette and the guards waited for the relief, which was due to arrive at midday, but they were all aware that after all the events of the night before, it might take longer, and so Gillette spent the time until Groves and the relief would arrive, indulging in his own ambitious thoughts.

He would like to one day follow the newly minted Commodore Norrington, and take command of a ship like the "Dauntless" himself, but he was still too young, and that would probably have to wait a few more years. For the moment he would have to continue to share his duties with Theodore Groves, who, unlike himself, had evidently regretted that a certain pirate had been caught in Port Royal the day before.

Sparrow!

Gillette couldn't understand why everyone in the garrison seemed intrigued by this man in some way. In his opinion, Norrington should have either hanged him immediately, or, as Lord Beckett had ordered, sent him on the next boat to London.

It was within this moment that Will jumped on deck, and Jack followed close at his heels.

They glanced around briefly and spotted the men too busy or too lost in thought to notice anything going on behind their backs, and so the two managed to sneak over the ship's stern to the helm unnoticed. Exchanging another glance, they silently agreed that Jack should be the one who would conduct the negotiations.

Jack grinned confidently:

Armed with a hatchet, two swords, and a pistol, the only shot of which was intended for no one on board, though, their chances were far better than he had hoped when this venture began.

Notwithstanding the fact that he was still soaking wet after their walk along the seabed, he immediately turned to the men on deck, and remarked with unshakable confidence: "Everybody stay calm. We're taking over the ship!"

Will appeared at his side, did the same and added, much to his astonishment: "Aye! Avast!"

The reaction of the men on board was not what the two expected, for they did - nothing!

And then, after a moment of silence, they burst out laughing.

The young lieutenant, Gillette, then turned to them, skilfully covering up his surprise at seeing Jack Sparrow standing before him, and said as he climbed the steps to the wheel: "This ship cannot be crewed by two men. You'll never make it out of the bay."

Jack's grin widened even further as he aimed the pistol straight at Gillette's nose: "Son, your lack of faith in what's possible and what's not is quite blatant." He cocked his head, first, then his pistol, and added, all satisfied: "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Savvy?"

Barely an hour later, the "HMS Interceptor" sailed out of Port Royal bay and set course for Tortuga...

After they got the ship ready for sea, as best the two of them could, and after having already spent some hours at sea, knowing the "Dauntless" would not get on their heels so soon, they sailed towards Tortuga under full canvas.

Jack stood at the wheel, staring at the horizon, all lost in thought, while Will sat not far from him on one of the crates where the crew kept guns and grappling hooks, sharpening his sword.

Neither had spoken much since Port Royal was behind them, each for his own reasons, but after a while the silence began to feel leaden and Jack, unable to bear it any longer, finally asked: "How did you get to Port Royal?"

Of course he knew how the boy got to the Caribbean and why, but until now only others had told him about it and not Will Turner himself. So, Jack was more than curious as to how things sounded from his unwilling ally's perspective.

"That is a long story..."

"It wouldn't be like Tortuga was just around the corner, mate. We have favourable winds, and with a bit of luck, should we drop anchor in the bay during the night, or tomorrow, at the latest, but until then we have enough time for stories. So let's hear it. I'm all ears..."

Will let out a long sigh before beginning to speak: "I lived in London until I was twelve. My mother raised me on her own. With a little help from her sister and my grandfather. The family owned a weaving mill, which provided everyone with everything they needed slightly more than bad. Until the rumours started and until my mother and grandfather were accused of doing business with pirates. They lost everything and both died in short succession, sick, heartbroken and impoverished."

After all these years, Jack still wondered why Elianor had so stubbornly refused to use the gold in the casket she had kept for him and Caith. But maybe it was that all the years she had spent waiting, as well as the unequal fight against Beckett and his smear campaigns, simply sapped her strength and her will to live. Tried not to let it show, how deeply this still affected him, he finally asked: "What about your father?"

"My father, Bill Turner..." Will hesitated: "I don't know him. If it's true what I heard about him, he was a sailor aboard a merchant ship until his death..."

"Did your mother tell you that?"

Why had she withheld the truth? She must have been utterly afraid of what Beckett might do to her son if he found out said truth...

Will looked at Jack in astonishment at this question, but didn't respond, instead continuing with his story: "After my mother died, I lived with her sister and her husband. They took me in as their own and together with me they wanted to start a new life in Port Royal. The ship on which we made the crossing got attacked and sunk just a day or two from the destination of our voyage, and I got told I was the only survivor. Norrington and the crew of the 'Dauntless' fished me out of the sea and that's where I first met Elizabeth and her father. The governor is a kind man. He took it upon himself to look after me, and he even paid for my apprenticeship at the forge."

"And Lizzie? How come you're willing to risk your life for her?"

"After we arrived in Port Royal, we grew up together. At least more or less. We spent a lot of time together, and at first I thought we were just good friends. But then at some point I realised that there was more. The thought of Norrington wanting to propose to her almost drove me insane. And then, last night, when she was kidnapped and taken aboard that ghost ship, it hit me that we had been more than just friends for a long time..."

Jack said nothing.

His gaze seemed to get lost at an undefined spot on the horizon, as he remembered black curls dancing with the wind and a pair of grey eyes shimmering in the sunlight...

Once more there was silence between them until Jack asked: "Tell me, Will Turner, why did you come to me of all people when you were looking for someone to help you save your bonny little lass?"

Will looked at him inquiringly as he replied: "Well, you know the sea, you obviously know where this island is, I need to find, and you seem to be quite familiar with that ship - the 'Black Pearl'..."

"Ah, that's why," Jack said: "And you're quite sure that there is no other reason?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you believe in coincidences, lad?"

"It depends on..."

"...if the story sounds credible?" Will nodded, and, all of a sudden, Jack asked all seriously: "So, your father was a sailor?"

"A helmsman, yes."

"Aboard a merchant vessel?"

"Yes! Why do you ask? Could it be you know something about my father?"

Jack hesitated: "Maybe..."

Will's patience had reached the point where it mingled with his curiosity, and inevitably ended in impatience: "What is all this really about? I'm not a simpleton, Jack! Do you really think I missed the fact that you called me by my name when you shouldn't even know me or my parents? Admit it, you knew my father..."

After some hesitation, and with a deep sigh, Jack finally replied: "Very well! Yes, it's true, I knew your father, I knew them both, and I know you! I sailed with your father! He was an excellent sailor, an even better helmsman and a really good friend...and," Jack looked the boy straight in the eye, "he was a good pirate! Believe me, you look just like him..."

"It's not true," Will contradicted: "He was a merchant sailor. A good, respectable man who obeyed the law."

Jack's patience also reached a point where he had to restrain himself from wasting his only shot on the boy: "Your father was a bloody pirate! A scallawag! Just like your mother! But she obviously didn't want you to ever know!"

"That's a lie! My parents weren't pirates!"

"I'm sorry mate, this is the only truth I have for you."

Jack turned back toward the helm, knowing full well that he had just turned Will Turner's world upside down. He didn't even react when he heard Will draw his sword behind his back, but said: "Let me tell you one thing, lad: One day you will have to come to terms with who your parents really were, whether you like it or not. Maybe, you should rather ask yourself if it actually makes a difference if they were decent merchants or adventurous, swashbuckling pirates in search of loot and treasure. Would your mother have loved you less because of that? No! But she taught you a lot of what she learned herself while living among pirates! Or where do you think she did learn all the feints and parries she taught you? And Bill? Your father and the man he sailed for when I first met him, Patrick Swallow, taught me that it doesn't matter whether a man is a pirate, a sailor, or a merchant, as long as he uses the gifts wisely life bestows upon him. So, why don't you just put your sword away, son? It's not worth you getting beat again."

"You didn't beat me," Will flared up: "You ignored the rules of engagement. In a fair fight, I'd kill you."

"Why is that? Because I used a feint, your mother did not teach you? Well, then that's not much incentive for me to fight fair then, is it," Jack replied, slightly bugged out.

Without waiting for an answer, he turned the wheel hard, so that the sail boom whipped around and slammed Will in the chest - sweeping him off the ship and leaving the sword clattering onto the deck. Picking it up, Jack turned toward the lad, pointed its tip at Will, who was now dangling above the water, and told him: "Well, as long as you're just hanging there, now, you may finally be willing to pay attention. The only rules that really matter are these: What a man can do and what a man can't do. For instance: you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man or you can't. But the pirate is in your blood, boy, so you'll have to square with that some day. Now me, for example. I can let you drown, but I can't bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesy, savvy?"

This said, Jack swung the boom again, so that Will fell back on the deck, pointed the sword at the lad once more, and asked: "So, tell me, can you sail under the command of a pirate or can you not...?"

Jack flipped the sword, rendered it back to Will, and offered him his hand to help him up.

Will hesitated for a moment before taking Jack's hand and putting the sword back to his belt. He lowered his head, deep in thoughts, while it began to dawn on him, that everything Jack had told him was actually true, then asked: "When did you meet them?"

"A lifetime ago," Jack replied: "Your lifetime, lad!" He smiled, then added: "You were a fierce child, Will Turner, and you only had one wish: that we'd take you aboard our ship, one day..."

The young man's eyes widened with a sudden realisation: "I remember that from time to time my mother and grandfather gave lodgings to a young couple. The young man was a clever sailor and chart-drawer and the young woman always brought me gifts when they returned to us from their journeys. She had black hair..."

"...and you asked her if she would marry you once you were captain of a ship yourself..."

"You were the young man, weren't you...?"

Chapter Text

1739 - Tortuga

The sea was calm and a light breeze blew just enough wind into the "Interceptor's" sails for her to reach Tortuga sometime the next day. Bright moonlight silvered the sea and waves, casting a faint glow on the ship and the two young men aboard - its only crew.

Jack was still at the helm, and he was confident that they would be able to gather enough information and hire a crew quickly to leave for Isla de Muerta the very next day. Not knowing what Barbossa was really up to, and what part young Miss Swann was playing in his plans, he urged himself to hurry without becoming overzealous. Nothing was worse than acting before seeing the big picture, and he still wasn't sure how the boy would handle that...

Unlike Jack, who was more than busy with the ship and her course, Will had been sitting at the bow for hours now, staring out at the open sea.

They hadn't exchanged a word since their argument that afternoon, and he still didn't really know what to believe and what not to believe.

Nothing Jack had told him about his father - or his mother - corresponded in the least to what he had thought he had known about his parents, and he kept trying to convince himself that the young pirate was all making things up to deceive and take advantage of him.

At the same time, Will knew it wasn't like that.

Jack knew so much, too much, about his past to be able to possibly have picked it up somewhere at some point, so, here was only one reason he could know all the details he had described to him: Jack had been there...

Of course, he'd always wondered why his mother was equally skilled with sword and pistol, but he'd been a little boy, and little boys didn't question their mother's promise of adventure. He had loved the lessons she had given him - with a wooden sword, of course - and he had never forgotten them, even long after he had become the old blacksmith's apprentice at Port Royal. Perhaps that was where his love for swords and the art of forging them came from - they were a last link to a life that finally ended at the bottom of the sea with the sinking of the "HMS Resilience".

As hard as it was, he would have to apologize to Jack Sparrow, some day.

Nothing he had done or said he had done or said to hurt him, Will. He had done it and said it to make him, Will, remember.

Remember that he knew Jack Sparrow and the woman at his side - Caithleen Stevens...

How many times had he explained to his mother, when she warned him not to get too wild, when he was defending his 'Lady Caith' against imaginary villains:

"But, mum, I have to learn how to defend her! What if Jack isn't around to do it? Then I have to protect her!"

How often had he, after he had won his battles against those imaginary villains, kidnapped his 'Lady Caith' to his secret hiding place where he kept all his treasures - namely, all the gifts she had brought home for him from her long journeys.

How often had he asked her in childish seriousness:

"Will you marry me when I'm old enough and when I'm the captain of my own ship, one day? You know I don't want a princess, Caithleen. I want a girl like you, that stays aboard my ship together with me..."

She had put up with all his antics, picked him up, hugged him, and told him with due seriousness that she already had a captain.

Oh yes, she had found her captain, and there was no doubt that she had loved him as much as Jack had loved her - beyond measure, and more than anything else in this world.

Now, so many years later, he understood what it was that connected these two.

Now, so many years later, he too, had found the girl who meant the world to him.

Elizabeth!

And at that very moment she had been kidnapped - by pirates.

Pirates like Jack Sparrow, like Caithleen Stevens and like his father and mother...

The moonlight silvered the night and the sea to the horizon, and the "Interceptor" seemed to be gliding straight toward her heading on that shimmering trail.

It got also reflected in Jack's eyes as he gazed out at the vast ocean - longingly and driven by his irrepressible desire for freedom.

He loved to take the helm on nights like this, when only the woosh of the sea and the sounds of the ship broke the stillness, and when a starry sky enfolded him, more precious to him than all the gold and jewels in all the treasuries around the World.

It didn't take much to keep the "Interceptor" on course, as the elegant two-master willingly followed the movements with which he steered the helm, and so he had plenty of time to indulge in his thoughts.

They ended up with Will Turner several times, and with the heated argument they had in the afternoon about whether or not a pirate could be a good man.

He had been keeping tabs on the boy for a long time, who was sitting at the bow, lost in thought and staring out at sea for hours, now.

Obviously, he wasn't ready to accept who and what he was just yet, even though he resembled his father in almost every way.

He had shown himself to be brave, fearless and adventurous.

He had a sharp mind and a keen sense of justice, and doing what was right, even if it might not entirely fit his own ideas of morality.

And he was willing to risk everything for what mattered to him.

Maybe in a slightly different way than he, Jack, would do, but that wasn't necessarily a mistake, because as many adventures as there were, there were as many ways to reach an aim.

There was just one question Jack didn't know how to answer:

Whether he could trust the boy unconditionally and whether he should let him in on his plans unconditionally.

After all, Will Turner had freed him from the cell for one reason only - to free Elizabeth Swann from the hands of a band of pirates...

Jack wasn't sure, whether he would have done the same if he'd been in Will's place and if Caithleen had been the girl to save, but it was pointless to think about it since he'd got robbed of that possibility years ago...

Silent footsteps brought his attention back to the here and now as Will climbed the steps to the wheel. He hesitated for a moment, then asked a question Jack would not have expected: "Why are you sailing alone? Where's Caithleen? Is she waiting for you in Tortuga, or have you decided to go your separate ways? As a child, I always believed that there was nothing and nobody that could separate you. Anyone who saw you together could feel how strong the bond was between you, so I can't imagine one of you ever leaving the other. What happened?"

To Will's great surprise, the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow's otherwise lively and bright eyes filled with deep sorrow and abysmal sadness at the mention of her name. It was only the fraction of a wink, and the moment passed as he blinked, but Will knew he wasn't wrong.

The sadness was there, and he realised that he had obviously caught a glimpse behind the facade of the otherwise inscrutable pirate. And the answer Jack was now giving him didn't seem to fit the remarkable and sometimes obscure fearnaught, either, Will had taken him for up to now.

For a split second, Jack Sparrow appeared to be vulnerable, assailable, and endlessly exhausted. He looked Will straight in the eye as he answered, and his tired voice came with a desperately longing undertone: "Caith is... we didn't break up. But we underestimated what others would be able to do to us to turn our lives into hell on earth. Caith is... She is... I lost her. Our ship got sunk... and she was still on board when the powder magazine... when the ship burst into flames. I couldn't help her... I... I'll never forgive myself for that..."

Will wanted to give him a reply, but Jack digressed, before he was able to do so. He didn't want the boy to see that it wasn't just the moonlight shimmering within his eyes, and when he turned back to him it seemed like that moment had never happened: "All right, Will Turner, let's leave it at this short trip down memory lane! We'll be in Tortuga by tomorrow afternoon at the latest, and I promise you'll love it - lots of pirates..."

"But..."

"Don't worry mate, nobody, well, most supposedly nobody on that island knows who you are, and I've no intention of spreading any news about you in any of the taverns or brothels in whole Tortuga. With one exception. There's someone, I hope to find on the isle, who most probably knows who you are, and I'm pretty sure you, too, are aware of who he is..."

"I can't imagine knowing anyone on this island," Will protested.

Jack grinned at this answer, but all he said in reply was: "If I were you, mate, I wouldn't be so quick about jumping to conclusions like that! An old friend once told me that sometimes friendship is to be found where you least expect it..."

As expected, in the late afternoon of the next day, they really reached what was probably the most louche island in the entire Caribbean.

A number of ships were already moored at the piers surrounding the port, and an equal number were anchored in the bay itself when Jack and Will dropped the "Interceptor's" anchor - close enough to shore and far enough out of range of the other ships to avoid unwanted visitors sneaking aboard.

Of course, it would have been easier to head for one of the free berths, but on an island teeming with pirates and other unsavoury figures, Jack was not willing to take the slightest risk of anyone disappearing with his ship under the cover of night.

So they launched the longboat and hid it in the undergrowth as they went ashore in a small lagoon not far from town.

While on their way into the Caribbean heart of piracy, Jack decided it couldn't be wrong to give his young companion some well-intentioned advice: "Listen to me, lad! You are now in the midst of pirates, on a pirate island in pirate waters. So, whatever you do, do it with caution. Here, they shoot first and then ask questions, if at all, which, at times, turns out to be some pretty ugly affair, especially if you haven't planned on making your last exit yet. It's also never a bad idea to wander the streets and lanes of Tortuga with your eyes and ears open, especially since you never know if you might pick up something that might come in handy later. After all, this island is not just a hideout for pirates. You'll also meet merchants, slaves and deserters on the run, and thieves here, and just about anyone else with something to hide - and they all love to tell stories. Some of them are even said to be true..."

They reached town by nightfall, and, as Will realised with a mixture of amazement and disgust, there really was quite a bit to see, including some things he hoped he'd be able to forget again. Aside from the infamous pirate nest itself, what happened in the streets and alleyways would surely seem equally intriguing and shocking to any newcomer, depending on how easily such a newcomer would get intrigued or shocked.

Tortuga never slept, but while there was a lot of comings and goings around town and in the harbour throughout the day, the island really came alive after sunset.

Shots and screams echoed through the night, the first drunkards got thrown out of the taverns, and thieves and bilks got chased through the streets, while in front of the various brothels and whorehouses a number of prostitutes in their brightly coloured, showy dresses were waiting for their patrons.

Shaking his head, Will looked at what was going on around him and asked: "And you're really sure this is the place where you'll find the useful information you're looking for?"

"Believe me, Will Turner, if there's one place all around the Caribbean and the Spanish Main where I can find the information I'm looking for, it's Tortuga. Where else if not in a place like this, filled with so many different people, so many different desires and so many different pleasures? This island is really and truly a unique place!" Jack made a sweeping gesture that took in the entire space around them and added: "But more importantly, it is indeed that there is a sad lot that has never breathed deep the sweet proliferous bouquet that is the isle of Tortuga, savvy? What do you think?"

Will stared at him in disbelief and just said: "It'll linger." Before adding: "Are you really aware of what you're talking about?"

"Yes! I am," Jack replied with a wide grin: "I'll tell you mate, if every town in the world were like this one, no man would ever feel unwanted. But enough of that! Here we are!"

Jack was just about to enter a tavern aptly named "The Pirate's Lass" with Will in tow when a woman spotted him in the crowd and, determined and - obviously - angry, made her way over to him. The skirts of her dark red dress rustled with every step and her deep neckline not only hinted at her feminine charms but made them visible to everyone. Her ruby red hair shimmered in the light of the myriad lanterns, and it surrounded a face that might have been called pretty if it hadn't been hidden under several layers of makeup.

"Scarlett!" Jack first noticed her when she stood right in front of him, and he seemed both surprised and pleased to see her, which made Will wonder how he might have gotten to know her.

"Jack Sparrow," she snapped: "You've got nerve to show up here!"

Without waiting for his answer, she gave him a resounding slap in the face, turned on her heel and disappeared into the house opposite - one of the countless brothels on the island.

Will struggled to suppress a grin as he watched Jack shake his dark curls in bewilderment while wondering: "I'm not sure I deserved this!"

They were about to make a second attempt at entering the tavern when a second woman blocked their path.

Her honey-blonde hair was pinned up in an elaborate edifice, and she, too, wore a dress that more than flattered her feminine charms. The slightly worn brocade was the same colour as her hair and she was also heavily made up, so that one could not really tell whether she was really as young as she wanted to appear or not.

Hands on her hips, a chilled smile on her lips, and a dangerous twinkle in her eyes - this was how she looked at Jack defiantly: "Who was she?"

No less surprised than before, Jack smiled at her too: "Giselle!"

She didn't wait for what he might have wanted to tell her. Instead, she too gave the puzzled pirate a resounding slap in the face and disappeared in the direction of one of the other brothels.

"What was that?" Will asked, now both amused and confused.

"I don't know, mate. Maybe, I deserved that one! But I suggest we escape this wretched pit as quickly as possible, before anyone else shows up who feels they have to settle an unfinished business with me I don't know anything about."

"With a crew ...?"

"Ah, yes. Well it just so happens that you know both - the man who knows the finest sailors in all Tortuga and the man who knows the man who knows the finest sailors in all Tortuga..."

As always, the "Pirate's Lass" was packed to the brim and, as always, there was a brawl going on somewhere in the legendary tavern.

Jack left Will to the overwhelming impressions this place was sure to have on the boy, and went in search of the innkeeper. When he finally made his way through the crowd, he asked across the counter: "Is Joshamee Gibbs hanging around anywhere on the island?"

The innkeeper grinned broadly and pointed to the back door with an unheeding gesture: "Wasted everything he had on drinks again! The lads threw him out. He's lying outside in the pigsty sleeping off his inebriaty!"

"Any messages the Dutchman left for me?"

"Sorry, Jack, not this time!"

"That can't be helped, mate. Thanks anyway!"

"Now what," Will asked when Jack had successfully fought his way back to him.

"The man we're looking for is here. Seems, he's fast asleep in the pigsty, out in the backyard. So, we'll make a try to wake him up, but we'd better hope he doesn't wring our necks if we succeed..."

Jack motioned for Will to follow him and they made their way out of the back door.

"Take one!" Jack threw Will a bucket and filled another himself. "I think we're going to need them!"

Behind the inn there was a penetrating smell from the pigsty, which the innkeeper had obviously meant.

"Is that the inimitable taste and the very special bouquet of Tortuga that you described to me earlier," Will asked with a wide grin.

"Aye, mate! That's exactly what I meant!"

They exchanged a knowing look and a smirk, then found the man they sought sleeping in the sleep of the just among the pigs. Jack didn't hesitate and emptied his full bucket of water right over the man with a shrug.

The drunk sailor opened his eyes while coughing and spluttering, and struggled to sit up while cursing and swearing loudly. Beneath all the dirt and mud, Joshamee Gibbs' face finally emerged and he vented his anger on the two strangers who had so rudely woken him up: "Curse you for breathing, you slack-jawed idiot!" Until he recognised Jack: "Mother's love, Jack! You know better than to wake a man when he's sleeping. It's bad luck!"

Undeterred by his longtime friend's superstitious twaddle, Jack merely replied: "Ah, fortunately, I know how to counter it. The man who did the waking buys the man who was sleeping a drink. The man who was sleeping drinks it, while listening to a proposition from the man who did the waking."

Will looked at Jack in fascination while Gibbs thought about his suggestion for a moment and finally agreed: "Aye, that'll about do it!"

Jack put out his hand to help him up, and at the same moment Will emptied the second bucket over him.

"Blast it," Gibbs protested, now soaking wet: "I'm already awake!"

Will just shrugged and said, much to Jack's amusement: "That was against the smell!"

Chapter Text

1739 - New Headings and a Crew

It would probably forever remain Jack's secret how he succeeded in roaming the crowded tavern, without spilling a drop of beer from one of the three well-filled mugs, as he headed for one of the quieter alcoves, which he in any case preferred to each of the tables.

With somnambulistic safeness, he avoided every obstacle, almost like sailing a ship through a narrow strait.

Gibbs was already waiting for him in that very niche, while Will leaned against one of the tavern's buttresses, obviously not impressed by what he had seen so far. At least, that was what his gaze suggested, in which curiosity, fascination and disgust mixed.

In addition to the obviously obligatory fight, there was still a lot more to see, though:

Couples who went upstairs after short negotiations, tables where cards and dice were played, a group apparently hiring new sailors, and a band of musicians who brought the chaos to a boil with jigs, reels and sea shanties - while those who wanted to talk a little more undisturbed sat in the much quieter niches...

The rest was an eclectic mix of everything one could think of: Sailors, pirates, merchants, whores, slaves, and who or what else roamed an island like this, enjoying the relative freedom a place like Tortuga afforded them.

Jack shoved one of the beer mugs into Will's hand, looked around briefly, and then reminded him again to "Keep a sharp eye!" before he went on to join Gibbs.

The older man looked longingly at the mugs in Jack's hand, until he finally placed one on the table in front of him, and then squatted down in the alcove, opposite him with his own.

"Use it sparingly, my friend," Jack admonished him: "It stays with the one!"

Gibbs stared regretfully at the mug in front of him, took a deep draft, and finally asked: "Now, what's the nature of this venture of yor'un? Are you on a treasure hunt again?"

"No, mate, not this time!" Jack leaned forward, waved Gibbs to do the same, and added: "I'm going after the 'Black Pearl'." He left no doubt that he was deadly serious: "This time I know where to find her, and I won't let another opportunity pass me by to finally get her back."

Gibbs almost choked on his beer at this disclosure and couldn't believe what he had just heard. He shook his head and tried to talk Jack out of it: "Jack, it's a fool's errand. You know better than me the tales of the 'Black Pearl' and of her cursed crew."

"Of course I know the stories which twine around the 'Pearl'. I also know what Barbossa is up to. Therefore, this is the best time for me to attempt taking the ship from him. All I need is a crew!"

Jack's confidence didn't seem to rub off on Gibbs: "From what I hear tell of Captain Barbossa, he's not a man to suffer fools nor strike a bargain with one."

"Well, then I'd say it's a very good thing I'm not a fool then, eh?"

"I didn't mean to say I think you're a fool," Gibbs relented: "But prove me wrong, then. What makes you think Barbossa will give up his ship to you? Right now? After all the years you've spent looking for answers to your questions? Van Dijk told me that whenever you went ashore you took every opportunity to look for clues! So, what makes you so sure that you have found the right answers to your questions this time?"

Jack leaned a bit further towards Gibbs and replied in a low voice: "Let's assume that, thanks to some favourable circumstances, I'm finally able to piece together all the information I've gathered over the years into a fitting mosaic, turning it all into a matter of leverage."

"What do you mean?" Jack nodded his head at Will, but Gibbs didn't seem to understand, so he repeated the gesture until finally: "The kid?"

"Yep!"

"How should the lad be of any use to us?"

Jack heaved a sigh, rolled his eyes, and finally explained: "I already told you before how the 'Pearl', the Treasure of Cortez, the mutiny and those strange coins of Aztec gold Barbossa and his crew found are connected. This boy is the link that could tie all the loose ends of this story together." He locked eyes with Gibbs', and went on: "You remember the boy you fished out of the sea and took aboard the 'Dauntless' back then?" Gibbs nodded, and his eyes widened in astonishment as Jack continued: "The kid over there is Will Turner, the boy you saved. And not only that! He is Bill Turner's child. His only child! And I know for sure that Bill sent one of those coins of Aztec gold over to him to London, before the lad went on the crossing to Port Royal. This boy, Mister Gibbs, is the key to Barbossa, the curse and my chance to get the 'Pearl' back, and we are fortunate to be able to use that key..."

"By all sea spirits, Jack! You're not going to hand the boy over to Barbossa, are you?"

"Of course not! After all, I need his help to finally settle this unfinished score with Barbossa, but as for now, I'm not sure if he trusts me or if I can trust him..."

"But doesn't that mean that the whole thing isn't entirely harmless?"

"I have no choice, mate! This may be my last chance to get the 'Pearl' back, and I want to set off as soon as possible, but before I can do that I need a crew. What do you think, can you find me one by tomorrow?"

"That shouldn't be a problem, Captain, but it would be helpful to know where you'll begin your search."

Jack grinned: "There's only one place to look for the 'Pearl': Isla de Muerta!"

"Isla de Muerta? Mary Mother of God!"

"Still thinking you can get me a crew?"

"I'll find us a crew, no doubt on that. There's bound to be some sailors on this rock crazy as you."

"One can only hope! Take what you can..."

"...and give nothing back!"

They clinked their mugs, emptied them in one draft, and slammed them down on the table.

Both kept silent for a while, until Jack could no longer contain his curiosity: "But enough about Barbossa and Aztec gold! I'm more interested in what happened to the Dutchman. Where is van Dijk? And why are you here, and in this condition at that?"

"Van Dijk?" Gibbs grinned: "He's currently sailing his 'Stella' to and fro across the Caribbean."

"He is here?" Jack's expression brightened: This was some of the best news he'd heard in a long time.

"Aye! He dropped me off on Tortuga about two or three weeks ago. Said something about having some personal business to attend to. He wanted to pick me up again as soon as he would be done. Seems like something got in the way. Didn't he leave a message for you?"

Jack shook his head: "Not this time! But I have an idea where we might be able to find him."

He was convinced the best place to start looking for the Dutchman would be the island where they first met: Patrick's Island.

And once his beloved 'Pearl' was sailing under his command again, he would begin his search for van Dijk right there.

Before that, however, there was more he was interested in: "You've given the Caribbean a wide berth for a long time. Where did the currents take you after you left together? Didn't van Dijk want to go back to the Netherlands?"

"That's what he wanted, exactly! We stayed there for a couple of months, then left for a brief stay in London, and returned to the Caribbean once more before finally sailing the Baltic and Mediterranean."

"Yes, I remember. I got your message and the letters you left for me." Jack thought about it for a while, then asked: "So, the Baltic Sea and the Mediterranean, then...?"

"Aye! Our Dutchman turned out to be a shrewd merchant. He did good business and made some well-earned profit. Back in the Netherlands, he had his 'Stella' thoroughly overhauled before we set off to sail along the African coast last spring."

"Not exactly safe, is it?

"Not exactly, indeed! We almost ended up in Davy Jones' Locker when we got a little too close to the pirate fortress of Madagascar!"

"Madagascar?" Jack frowned and narrowed his eyes at Gibbs.

"I can tell you, Jack, compared to what the pirates built there, Tortuga is nothing more than a mere village. Have you ever heard of Roc Brasiliano?"

"Not much! Rumour has it that he has a hidden fortress in Madagascar which is said to be nigh impregnable. Is there any truth to that?"

"Believe me, Jack, the truth about this fortress dwarfs all rumours. The Coast Captains of Madagascar have devised a brilliant system that allows them to defend the passage to their hideout and the entire bay without having to engage a ship. The man who drew up the plans must be a genius..."

"Captain Jeffrey Stevens, right?" Jack blinked within the dimness of their niche as he remembered the encounters he and Caithleen had with Prudence Stevens, Caith's hot-blooded cousin, several years ago. Especially after their last chance meeting, they hadn't really parted ways amicably.

"You know who the man is?"

"I heard of him."

"If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes I wouldn't believe it, but, Jack, anyone who is not welcome in that fortress must expect to be mercilessly sunk. The English try again and again - especially your special friend Beckett - but without success. The cannons Master Stevens devised to defend the bay have cost them quite a few ships. Our 'Stella' almost shared that fate too..."

"How did you escape?"

"We got some unexpected support from a woman. She is one of the Coast Captains and helped us to leave the bay and the fortress unharmed. I can tell you, Jack, a girl straight out of a sweet dream. Red hair, green eyes and enough of those feminine charms that every man loves to look at. Unfortunately, she knows only too well how to fencing and shooting, because her father is the ingenious architect and gunsmith who also came up with that defence system. Her name is..."

"...Prudence 'Spitfire' Stevens..." Jack couldn't help but grin when he saw Gibbs' puzzled face.

"Aye, Captain! That's what everyone else called her, and I'd swear a holy oath that Brasiliano would have his own best interests at heart when it came to her."

"If she's still the one, I got to know some years ago, he'll cut his teeth on her if he tries to woo her when she doesn't want it too. The women of the Stevens family have their very own idea when it comes to choosing their lovers..." He thought it over for a moment, then added: "Mister Gibbs, as soon as I got the 'Pearl' back, and as soon as we found our Dutchman, we have a new heading..."

"Madagascar?"

"Aye, mate! Madagascar!"

When Jack and Will arrived at the pier the next morning after a rather short night, Gibbs was already waiting for them, and Will began to wonder if he and Jack had even slept a wink after having spent hours sitting in that niche discussing.

Much to his surprise, Will had to admit that Jack had been right, and that he really knew someone who would hang around on an island like Tortuga.

Of course, did he recognise Joshamee Gibbs, the superstitious sailor who had been part of the crew aboard the 'Dauntless' that had saved him from dying at sea years ago - and he hoped he would later find an opportunity to quiz things over with the old salt. Especially about some things involving Jack Sparrow...

Along with Gibbs, a motley crew of about a dozen men were waiting for Jack and Will - all that the eager Gibbs had been able to scavenge in the short time from the backstreets and taverns of Tortuga, and the only ones willing to sail with them to the Isla de Muerta.

Noticing them, Gibbs rushed to meet Jack and Will: "Feast your eyes, Cap'n. All of 'em faithful hands before the mast, every man worth his salt and crazy, to boot." Quietly, he added turning to Jack: "And honestly, the only ones willing to follow you on this adventure..."

Jack waved that hint of doubt out of the way with a small gesture of his hand as he inspected his new crew, Will close on his heels.

Given the short time Gibbs had ready to hand, this was quite an acceptable crew. Not perfect, maybe, but acceptable.

Will didn't seem quite so convinced: "So, this is your able-bodied crew?"

"Something wrong with the men, young Mister Turner," Jack answered the question with a smirk.

He was aware that the boy was not a seaman, and therefore had no experience of what a man had to bring with him when he wanted to hire aboard a ship, but one thing was true for these men as well as for Will: What they would be able to do and accomplish would depend solely on what they would be able to do - or not...

Dwarf Marty would be the perfect man for the crow's nest.

Dumb, weatherbeaten Cotton, whose tongue had been cut out somewhere at some point, was the right man for the helm - and if his parrot babbled anywhere near as much as Cotton was silent, they would soon be wishing things were the other way around.

They would be joined by his trusty, sometimes a bit overly superstitious first mate, Gibbs, and a boy who obviously had some spunk in his bones, but had no intention of becoming a pirate...

Jack was confident that together they could face an adventure like the one that lay ahead...

Pleased with Gibbs, his new crew and himself, Jack was about to turn on his heel to finally board his ship and to finally resume the hunt for Barbossa when a voice stopped him. It was the young sailor at the end of the line who found the courage to ask the one question everyone had in mind but none of the men had dared to ask: "With all due respect, Captain, I have one more question! What's the benefit for us in this adventure?"

Jack stopped short when he heard that voice and decided to take a closer look at the boy.

He paused for a moment when he finally stood in front of the boy and squinted at him septically. There was no doubt he knew that slender figure, and it certainly wasn't a boy! After a moment's hesitation, he finally reached out and took the girl's hat off her head:

Long black hair fell to her shoulders and down her back, and her dark brown eyes blazed wildly as she looked into his face with unmistakable anger.

"Anamaria!?"

The young woman didn't answer him, but gave him another resounding slap, and Will, unable to contain his glee, asked both curiously and a little cynically: "What was that? Another slap you didn't deserve?"

"No, mate," Jack replied: "That one I deserved."

"Oh yes," Anamaria hissed, "And you know exactly why! You stole my boat!"

She emphasised the last words a little more, so that he wouldn't miss them by any means.

"I didn't steal your boat, love. I borrowed it..." A second, all the more violent slap followed the first: "Well, yes, I confess, I borrowed it without permission. But with the all honest intention of bringing it back..."

"But you didn't," she snapped, and Jack thought he knew it would be easier to deal with a Fury than with Anamaria, before she added: "Well, at least, you admitted it was you!"

In an effort to calm the waves down, Jack finally remarked: "I promise, you'll get another one..."

"I will?" The young woman eyed him suspiciously.

"A better one," Will now interjected unexpectedly.

"A better one," Jack agreed, not quite sure what the boy was getting at - but as long as it helped calm the angry lass...

Anamaria looked doubtfully from Will to Jack and back. Disbelief got still reflected in her eyes, and the crew, too, had begun to follow this strange spectacle, meanwhile, with lively interest. Obviously, the captain and the girl knew each other, and the outcome of this game seemed open...

"That one," Will could now be heard.

"What one?"

Jack stared at the lad in utter confusion just to get a hard look from Will in return, which made him and the crew all turn and look at the "Interceptor".

Unable and unwilling to stomach that, Jack turned back to Will, asking: "That one?"

He thought for a moment more, weighing the pros and cons, and then turned to Anamaria again: "Aye! That one! What say you?"

"Agreed," she hissed.

However, before she could follow the crew, who were now all the more willing to board the ship, Jack stopped her with one last sentence: "Van Dijk and his 'Stella' are here. I thought you might be interested..."

"And why didn't you say so right away," she asked with sparkling eyes: "Maybe it would have saved you a slap! This way, you would actually deserve a third one!"

That said, she stomped off and instead of her Gibbs joined the discussion again: "No, no, no, no. It's frightful bad luck to bring a woman aboard, sir."

With a look at the sky, Jack simply replied: "We don't have time for that now, Mister Gibbs! Trust me, it'll be far worse not to have her." He then turned to Will and just said: "So you left our ship to a clever little smuggler, eh!"

"Well, obviously you owed her something..."

Jack grinned widely as he replied: "It's alright, Will Turner, but don't ever tell me again you're not a pirate! Savvy?"

Chapter Text

1739 Isla de Muerta - Part 1

The storm broke loose and hit the "Interceptor" and her crew, barely two hours after they had left Tortuga Bay.

Out of nowhere the sky had begun to darken, and out of deep black clouds the rain poured down so densely that the men could scarcely see a hand in front of their faces, let alone those who worked beside them.

Everyone on board fought with all their might for the ship and to keep it from capsizing, and it took every free hand to secure supplies and guns, to protect the cargo hold from water inrush, and to keep the ship from beginning to roll.

Was Will still convinced in the morning that the ragtag crew Gibbs had hired for Jack was actually just that, a ragtag crew, so his respect for the men grew with every minute they braved this storm. Every single one of them had already earned their wages, and it stood to be hoped that they would still find an opportunity to spend their well-deserved pay, should they all survive this storm.

It was the latter Will kept having doubts about, but whenever he feared the next wave washing over the ship would inevitably tear it down, he got taught otherwise, for even though both the storm and the current tossed the ship mercilessly, she followed her course as if steered by a ghost's hand - and maybe the truth wasn't all too far off.

The boy didn't get to think about it any further: One of the sails had come loose, and it stood to be feared that the violent gusts would sooner or later tear it to shreds. It was Gibbs who now grabbed Will's wrist and pulled him along: "Come with me, lad! We must try to brace that sail! I can't do that alone!"

Will just nodded and hurried to follow him.

It took both men a lot of strength and effort to catch the loose hawser, and to hold steady the sail flapping wildly in the storm until it was firmly tied again, but every time they thought they had succeeded, another gust swept both, the sail and the rope, out of their hands once more. Seawater washed over deck, and the rain lashed their faces, as if the storm itself were trying with all its might to prevent them from refastening that sail.

Eventually, Will managed to catch the rope by hanging his full weight on it, and while it took all the strength he could muster to hold it, his gaze met Jack, who stood at the helm, undeterred by storm, thunder, and lightning, only glancing at his compass every now and then.

Barely able to drown out the raging storm, the lad finally asked: "How can we sail to an island that nobody can find with a compass that doesn't work?"

Gibbs grinned knowingly and replied, while he finally managed to tie the line and sail again: "Aye, the compass doesn't point north. But we're not trying to find north, are we?"

There was something to it, and while Will tried to catch his breath, at least for a moment, Gibbs headed for the helm.

Jack saw his first mate coming, and he tried to keep the ship steady at least long enough for Gibbs to stumble up the steps to the helm. His hand held the wheel in an almost relentlessly tight grip, and unimpressed by the thundering storm and the wildly troubled sea, he forced the "Interceptor" to follow the course that would carry her mile after mile towards Isla de Muerta, and not the course that the raging forces of nature had framed for them.

Dripping wet, exhausted and barely able to keep himself on his feet, Gibbs finally staggered towards him and called out valiantly to make himself heard over the storm: "If the weather won't calm down somewhat soon, these spilling breakers will crush us, and drag us all down to Davy Jones' Locker! We should drop canvas, sir!"

"No need," Jack replied, while his eyes were shimmering within the lightning ripping through the surreal darkness of this afternoon: "That would not only throw us off course, it would also cost us time unnecessarily!"

"But..."

"Trust me, she can hold a bit longer."

"What's in your head as puts you in such a fine mood, Captain? What makes you take the risk of running the ship aground on our first day at sea?"

Jack's knowing grin and his adventurous look were answer enough: "We're catching up!"

As Gibbs went back to helping the men on deck and in the hold, Jack thought about what he'd just told his longtime friend and mate.

He had been serious about everything: He knew how to sail his ship so as not to run it aground or steer it into a reef - and he knew where to sail his ship to.

Although it had been a few years since he last headed for the dreaded Isla de Muerta, and since his encounter with Barbossa and his "Pearl" had almost been his, van Dijk's and Anamaria's undoing, he now had a double reason for his return to that cursed island. It was time to settle his open score with Barbossa and his crew of mutineers, and this time there would be no stepping back any more. He had lost ten years of his life, hunting for his former first mate and for his ship, it was time to bring this adventure to an end.

So, yes, he knew where to sail his ship to, and he only used his unique compass to make sure he could trust his memories:

This time, he was not in need of it - he would find this island even blindfolded and on a new moon night.

The course he was sailing felt right, and so did the storm, both a harbinger and a warning of what might await them on the Isle of the Dead, and perhaps there was a grain of truth in the legends that spun around the day of his birth, and which had been told on Shipwreck Island countless times...

He was said to have been born on a stormy night aboard his father's ship, while a typhoon churned the sea, while squalls tore the sails, and while glowing St. Elmo's fire crept down the masts and made the crew's blood run cold.

There were hushed whispers that the woman, his mother, with whom Captain Teague had fallen head over heels, had been a witch, or, even worse, a mermaid. It got told that she rarely spoke, that whenever she accompanied him at sea his father made an exceedingly rich haul, and that the people of Shipwreck Cove were convinced that he, Jack, had inherited his love of the sea from her: How else could it have been that a boy of just ten knew how to sail a galleon?

Jack didn't know who she was.

The woman got to know as his mother didn't seem to fit at all with the descriptions he had overheard of the woman his father seemed to have loved at one time but never once spoken to him about: There was only one man who would be able to tell him the truth - Captain Edward Teague - but he had no desire to ever see his father or Shipwreck Island again.

Maybe it was true what people said about him, that he was a mermaid's child.

Perhaps what he once told van Dijk was true, that he was able to sail any ship that could even remotely stay afloat to any place that could be reached on the seas of the world - and maybe even further.

If there were any truth to all this, he would possibly find out one day, but just at that moment, as the storm tugged at his hair, as rain and sea spray washed over his face, and as he sailed his ship toward its destination, untouched by towering waves, he was willing to believe all the rumours that had been spread about him...

As the sun rose the next day, the first spurs of the reef that surrounded the Isla de Muerta like a spider's web came into view.

This belt of shoals, coral and treacherous currents was deadly to anyone who did not know what course to take to approach the island, and the myriad shipwrecks that lined the passage were the silent witnesses of many a tragedy that had already happened here.

There was an awkward silence aboard the "Interceptor", almost as if no one dared even think to take a deep breath until they would have cleared the passage, and the rising fog, which seemed to get thicker the closer they got to the island, increased the oppressive feeling on top of that.

A tremor and the dull sound of wood scraping against wood ran through the entire ship and even through the bones of the crew as the "Interceptor's" hull swept away fragments of a wreck - and not only the superstitious Gibbs sent a silent prayer to heaven as he remarked with a shudder: "Puts in a chill in the bones, how many honest sailors have been claimed by this passage."

Jack alone seemed unaffected by all this. He still stood at the helm, compass in one hand, wheel in the other as he guided his ship safely through the passage with some somnambulistic sense for its perils.

Eventually, Cotton offered to relieve him, but he indicated to the weatherbeaten sailor that he wanted to take his vessel to the isle himself, despite the fact that he hadn't slept a wink all night.

Cotton wasn't yet out of sight when Anamaria came up the steps to the helm. She and Jack exchanged a quick look as the memories they shared of their first encounter on the island caught up with them:

Their unexpected reunion in the cave; their argument about whether the treasure was a blessing or a curse; their hasty escape when the "Pearl" attacked van Dijk's "Stella"; and the night they spent together aboard the Dutchman's ship...

They had never again wasted a word on it after that, and their friendship would probably have gone to hell had they not known that they had both had very different reasons for that night.

For Jack it had been about somehow numbing the dull ache and filling the emptiness that Caith's death had left inside him, and he knew only too well by now that Anamaria's true object of desire was not him, but the charming Dutch merchant, whom she hoped to see again soon - the only reason why she had agreed to accompany him to Isla de Muerta one more time aside the fact, that he, Jack, owed her a ship...

Standing beside each other now, there was no more animosity between them and they watched in silence for a while as Gibbs and Will struggled to help the crew reef the sails. The boy did well and was a quick learner, which raised hopes that he might make a decent pirate after all - one day...

Jack smiled at the thought, and Anamaria remarked, also with a smirk: "You know Gibbs is telling the lad the story of your escape from Rumrunner's Isle, don't you?"

"Does he?" Jack's grin widened: "And which version of the story?"

She leaned back against the rail and just replied: "Sea turtles..." After a moment's thought, she added: "Will you ever tell them the truth about your escape?"

"Maybe one day, but for the moment it's enough that only you, me and the Dutchman know the truth." He winked at her, gave her another disarming smile, and then said: "Please take over for me, love. It's time to get prepared for what we might encounter here. Should anything go wrong - you know how to get this vessel out of here. In that case, she's yours. Savvy?"

That said, he left the wheel in the young smuggler's capable hands and sauntered over to where Will and Gibbs were still busy hauling in the sail - after all, it was far more uplifting to tell stories and to be told stories than to think about having to face Barbossa and his crew soon...

Gibbs and Will were so engrossed in telling and listening to each other that they did not notice when Jack joined them, and so he was able to catch some of the mysticisms his first mate told his old friend's son about him.

Will hung like spellbound on the skilled sailor's lips, but his frown told Jack the boy didn't believe everything Gibbs was trying to tell him. And so it happened that, when the tale finally got to the sea turtles, he asked: "If there was nothing on the island they marooned him on, what did Jack use to rope the sea turtles?"

Gibbs looked at Will, all puzzled. He hadn't been prepared for that question, and if he was honest with himself, he hadn't given much thought to that aspect of Jack's escape from Rumrunner's Isle ever before.

Amused by the two of them, Jack adjusted the tricorn on his head, cleared his throat, and then answered the boy's question dead serious and without giving anything away, disclosing the truth: "With human hair! From my back!"

The two storytellers jumped at the sound of his voice behind them, and at the helm, Anamaria tried desperately to restrain a laugh.

With a satisfied grin, Jack then turned to the crew: "Let go of the anchor! Young Mr. Turner and I are to go ashore."

As the crew dashed asunder to carry out the captain's orders, Gibbs hurried to keep up with Jack. His face expressed concern as he asked: "Cap'n! What if the worst should happen?"

Jack halted his steps for a moment, looked over his shoulder, and replied: "If we're not back by afternoon, keep to the code!"

"Aye! The Code! But Jack..."

"You got me, Mister Gibbs! It is of no use to anyone if you and the crew should also be found by Barbossa and his band of mutineers!"

"That's understood, Sir! But do we have a venue in case we get separated?"

"Wait for me at Patrick's Island. If I'm not mistaken, van Dijk will also go ashore there. In case I'm not back within a week's time, you will know something went wrong. And now," he turned to Will: "let's go for a treasure hunt, Mister Turner..."

The wildly ramified cave system had lost none of its bizarre fascination when Jack and Will oared down the subterranean stream into its deepest depths, and the little lantern at the stern of their boat gave enough light to reveal both the beauty and the horrors unfolding down here in equal measure.

To Will's amazement, Jack had grown more and more silent with each stroke, they rowed away from the "Interceptor", until the moment when the shadowy silhouette of an imposing galleon appeared out of nowhere in the morning mist.

Will was convinced that this must be the "Black Pearl," the vessel Jack was so passionately searching for, and the longing gaze he beheld the ship with through his spy glass told its very own story. Now, after Gibbs had inadvertently revealed to him that Jack was the actual captain of the infamous ghost ship, some of the puzzle pieces began to finally fit together into a picture in the young man's mind, and much was finally beginning to make sense to him:

The friendship his father and Jack had been bound by, the mutiny against Jack and his father's death, and Jack's almost relentless determination to finally bring Barbossa and his treacherous crew to justice.

What Will still didn't understand, however, was the role he and Elizabeth Swann were meant to play in this adventure. Was there a connection to Jack and Barbossa that neither of them knew about, and that went beyond the ties of friendship and family?

He didn't get to answer that question, because the deeper they rowed into the cave, the more eerie and at the same time fascinating it became.

The faded bones of all those adventurers who had gotten killed while having been on the hunt for treasure on the island lined the banks of the subterranean stream, and they admonished every living thing that dared enter the cave, that nothing endured but death.

Will shuddered at the thought, tried to ignore the chill the eerie sight sent down his back. He managed this more badly than well, and after he had finally collected himself again to some extent, he asked into the silence: "What code is this for Gibbs to follow in case the worst happens?"

Jack's reply came immediately and surprised the boy: "Pirates' code. Any man who falls behind is left behind."

"Ah, I see," Will assumed: "No heroes among pirates and thieves, eh?"

Jack frowned at that question, and he half-turned to Will as he explained: "Tell me, Will Turner, what good would it do me or my crew if I tried to become a hero and lost my life in the process? I would most likely end up dead, leaving my ship without a captain and my crew without lead, and everything we've worked so hard for would have been in vain. Have a look around! Here they all lie who once believed of themselves that it would be enough in life to become a hero. Not really an uplifting prospect, is it?"

He gave Will a moment to stomach this, then asked: "But tell me one thing, mate. If you're so averse to ending up a pirate, how come you're well on your way to becoming one?"

"I'm not!"

"Hm, that's strange. Then what would you call what you've been doing these past few days? You sprung a man from jail, commandeered a ship of the fleet, sailed with a buccaneer crew out of Tortuga and you're completely obsessed with treasure..."

As he spoke, the waters of the subterranean river suddenly seemed to light up, as if by a ghost's hand, and it took Will a moment to realise that there was no magic behind it, just a mass of gold and silver lying in the water and lit by the faint light of the torches illuminating the corridors.

The boy snorted as they reached a small cove and pulled the boat onto safe ground: "That's not true. I am not obsessed with treasure."

Jack just smiled knowingly and motioned for Will to follow him through the winding corridors until they reached a well-hidden rise that allowed them to look down at the lighted vault without being seen themselves.

Loud voices and murmurs echoed from the walls of this vast hall as the "Pearl's" crew assembled there, and on the gallery, next to a stone chest that looked more like an ancient sarcophagus, stood Barbossa and... Elizabeth...

Jack looked at them from out of their hideout and merely remarked: "Not all treasure is silver and gold, mate..."

Chapter Text

1739 - The Blood You Need

"Gentlemen, the time has come! Our salvation is nigh! Our torment is near an end."

Barbossa's voice now echoed through the subterranean hall, and Jack stared like spellbound at what was going on, as Will also sneaked up to their hiding place. He, too, looked down at the men gathered in this almost unreal place, and discovered among them the reason he had become involved with pirates and this adventure in the first place:

"That's Elizabeth!" He looked at Jack expectantly and was just about to throw himself impatiently and in youthful storminess at Barbossa and his men, but only got a warning look from the pirate at his side: It wasn't time to announce their presence yet! "But, Jack, we have to do something...!"

Jack pulled him into the shadows of their hidden outlook and whispered: "We are going to do something, but before we will do anything, I want to know what it is, we want to do something about, and if there's actually anything we can do about it at all. Savvy?"

He turned back to the cave and added: "Let's hear what else he has to say. The more we know, the better plans we can make!"

Jack could feel the boy's tension and uneasiness, and he could relate to both just all too well, for he did not know whether he himself would actually be capable of mustering the calm and patience he had just admonished Will Turner to have.

Outwardly, perhaps, but deep inside him a storm was raging, which he was only able to repress with difficulty.

The men assembled down there in the cave had once been his crew, and the elegant pirate with the huge black hat on his head had once been his first mate aboard the "Black Pearl", and even if he had never trusted any of them entirely, as their captain he would still have been willing to do almost anything for each and any of them. The thanks for that had been a mutiny, a pistol with a single shot, and a godforsaken spit of land in the middle of nowhere on which they had marooned him - a godforsaken spit of land on which they had left him to die...!

Jack didn't know what it was, but a strange mood hovered over everything in this strange, almost mystical vault:

Above the almost surreal place that was Isla de Muerta.

Above the men, who finally hoped for salvation after ten long years living under a curse.

Above Hector Barbossa, who seemed convinced that the girl was the one he had been looking for for so long - the child of one Bill Turner.

Above Elizabeth Swann, the governor's daughter, who had to be either extraordinarily brave or incredibly stupid - or just having mistaken life for a romantic adventure.

Above Will Turner, who wanted to save the woman he had just realised was the one he loved, but not in what role he wanted to save her - as a blacksmith or as a pirate.

And above himself, who had spent ten years of his life hunting down Barbossa, his crew and his ship, driven by the thought of finally bringing these men to their deserved punishment - unknowing, though, if this would actually give him the satisfaction he desired, or if he would really be able to forget everything he had suffered afterwards.

No, it really wasn't time to reveal their presence yet.

Barbossa wouldn't hesitate to shoot all three of them outright - him, Will, and even the girl...

No, before that, Jack was dying to know what the ultimate secret of this curse was.

Then, and only then, would he have the advantage needed to outplay Barbossa in this dance on the razor's edge.

Therefore, he warned Will again: "Let's hear what he has to say. It buys us time and an idea."

Will did as he got told, but only hesitantly and half-heartedly, firmly convinced that waiting was not the best strategy, unsure, though, if Jack might not be right after all. Whatever the case, for the time being they were compelled to inaction and listening, and there was much to be listened to as Barbossa's voice now echoed through the vast grotto:

"Finally! Finally we are back where our misfortune began! After ten years of torment and uncertainty! After ten years, of having been tested and tried, and after ten years of a life in punishment. And punished we were, the lot of us. Punished for our excessive greed and the crimes we have committed. Caught between two worlds, in bodies that can neither live nor die. Unable to feel and enjoy the pleasures of life. Deprived of all hope! Doomed to live this life that isn't to be called a life, until the last piece of this cursed treasure was finally found and returned!"

With his foot he pushed aside the heavy stone lid of the enormous treasure chest, and the shimmering heavy golden coins became visible, which Jack had already seen in it that night when he had met Anamaria in this cave a couple of years ago.

Barbossa continued: "Here 'tis, the cursed Treasure of Cortez' himself. The treasure we have plundered so recklessly, driven and blinded by greed and consumed by presumption and pride! Doomed to find no salvation until the last drop of blood shed so long ago has been repaid. Today the day is finally here! And we are closer to our salvation than ever before! Every last piece that went astray we have returned – save for this..."

And with a resolute gesture of his hand he then pointed to the coin of Aztec Gold Elizabeth still wore as a trinket around her neck.

Convinced he had heard and seen enough, and at the end of his patience Will now finally wanted to jump out of their hideout, when Jack grabbed his shoulder and held him back with a presence of mind: "Not yet!"

A mixture of desperation, resignation and suppressed anger shimmered in the boy's eyes as he tore himself away: "But, Jack...how can we just sit here and wait?"

"We will wait for the opportune moment," Jack now answered, also on the verge of losing patience.

With that said, he wanted to turn away to descend into the grotto, but Will held him back: "When's that? When it's of greatest profit to you?"

Jack winced at that accusation. He had expected everything just not that the boy trusted him so little. Of course he knew that up to now he had kept to himself some of the real reasons that had brought them here, but as far as he could remember, he hadn't given his old friend's son any reason to distrust him that much. Therefore, he took a deep breath and briefly closed his eyes before turning back to the boy and saying: "May I ask you something? Have I ever given you reason not to trust me?"

Will said nothing, but one could see that he was mentally shifting from one foot to the other, and so Jack added: "I take that for a no! So, be so kind and do us both a favor. Let me do the negotiating, aye? I know it's difficult for you but, please, stay here... and try not to do anything... stupid..."

He nodded at Will and disappeared into the darkness of the cave, hoping that the boy would actually do what he asked him to do - at least this once.

Well hidden in the shades of the corridor leading straight into the great hall where Barbossa and his men were gathered, Jack waited for what would happen next. Deep in thought he let everything he had heard and seen down here pass by his inner eye again, and as it seemed, things were indeed as he had suspected them to be for some time.

Barbossa had brought the "Black Pearl" into Port Royal Bay that night a few days ago for only one reason:

He had known, from whatever source, where he had to search for that last single coin he needed to free himself and his crew from the curse, which they had loaded onto themselves ten years earlier.

The coin Bill Turner sent in a letter to his wife and son in London all those years ago.

The coin Elianor gave her son in memory of his father, and which the boy had worn as a medallion when Barbossa sank the ship, on which Will Turner and his step-parents wanted to travel to the Caribbean.

The coin Elizabeth Swann took to protect the boy whom James Norrington and the crew of the "Dauntless" rescued from the wreck of the "Resilience".

She knew, had the trinket been found on Will that night - no one would have believed him that he was just an orphan boy on his way to Port Royal.

Inevitably he would have been treated like a pirate, which would have meant they would have hanged him - kid or not...

And so it was Elizabeth Swann, the governor's daughter, who, in an act of selflessness, saved Will Turner, a pirate's son, from the gallows - not knowing how that act of kindness would weave all their lives together eight years later.

She hadn't been stupid, she had been brave...

What remained, however, was the question of why Barbossa thought she was Bill's daughter. Just because she was wearing that medallion...?

Jack turned his attention back to Barbossa, who now grabbed a blade, which looked as if made from stone. Holding it high above his head, he continued his speech: "It is time to finally fulfil the ritual and to repay the blood that has yet to be repaid to set us free from the curse. Each of us did our part to find and return all those coins we carelessly squandered. And each of us has paid the blood sacrifice owed to the heathen gods! Now the time has come to return the last piece of gold still missing. And whose blood must yet be paid?"

"Hers," the men replied as if in chorus, pointing to the young woman who was standing next to Barbossa and the treasure chest - tall, pale but seemingly unaffected by all that was happening around her.

Jack turned away. He had heard enough.

So, there actually was a blood ritual necessary to break the curse, but evidently one that did not necessarily require the victim's death - at least not as long as the victim in question belonged to the crew of mutineers who had once plundered this treasure.

Barbossa and his men surely had already made this blood sacrifice, and now they hoped, with the coin and the blood of the girl, to finally find their salvation - only the girl's blood wasn't the blood they needed, and Jack feared that Elizabeth Swann would be in grave danger should Barbossa discover that she was not Bill Turner's daughter, and that her blood would have no effect...

Jack didn't want to imagine what would happen to her once this secret got revealed, and so he decided that now was the time to forestall Barbossa and confront his former first mate with the truth. After all, he had something, better, someone who would be of great help to him in his negotiations.

Optimistic, that now nothing could go wrong any more, he was just about to go in search of Will, when he heard a silent noise behind him. His eyes widened in astonishment, but he never got around to reacting.

Something hit his head and he collapsed, and before he lost consciousness, he thought he heard Will's voice telling him: "Sorry Jack! I'm not going to be your leverage!"

He then thought that the boy had done something downright stupid, and everything around him went silent and black...

Jack didn't know how long he'd been unconscious, but when he came to, the whole cave seemed to be in the middle of an uproar.

Heavy footsteps and loud shouting told him that Barbossa's men seemed to be looking for something - or someone - all over the subterranean cave system, but thanks to his still befuddled chain of thought, he was hardly able to piece together what must have happened.

What he could tell from the shouting around him was that both the girl and the gold coin were gone, that the curse was still upon Barbossa and his crew, and that someone had apparently hidden all the oars belonging to the longboats.

All but the one lying next to him!

All but the one Will Turner had knocked him out with...

"Oh bugger!"

Jack cursed through gritted teeth!

Why did the damn brat have to be so impatient? Why couldn't he just wait until they would have been able to play to their advantage?

All of them, including Barbossa and his men, could have had everything they had craved for years by now, but one rash act had undone all efforts and the hunt would start all over again. Although, maybe not from very the beginning...

Jack's head was still spinning as he stumbled to his feet, and he grabbed the oar to lean on, as he tried to find out where he actually was.

Apparently the blow Will had given him was harder than he had thought, and he felt like he had lost his bearings as he staggered aimlessly through the hallways - until all of a sudden he was staring straight down the barrel of a pistol...

"You...?

Jack blinked, trying to see who it was that spoke to him so suddenly and unexpectedly.

"By all water sprites, Jack Sparrow!"

Jack blinked again as a second voice intervened, and eventually recognised two of his former crew mates: Pintel and Ragetti.

The two of them weren't the worst men of all those Barbossa had hired back then. Actually, they were rather naive and sometimes even more good-natured than malicious, but when it was necessary they had always proved brave and cold-blooded combatants and excellent gunners. However, before Jack could delve any further into his thoughts, Pintel remarked, still unable to contain his surprise: "You're supposed to be dead!"

"Am I not?" Jack asked in return, while carefully looking around, if there was a way out of this predicament, but there was none, and as Pintel now also cocked his pistol and pointed it at him he decided it was time to play the fool again for which many only too gladly and wrongly took him.

And so he stuttered with a strained, thoughtful expression on his face: "Perlerley...! Pereleyloo. Parlene. Parsnip. Parsley. Part... partner, partner..." Until Ragetti, as expected, ended the spook: "Parley?"

"Parley!" Jack grinned widely, knowing he'd won: "That's it, mate! Parley!"

"Parley!" Pintel gritted his teeth in anger and glared at Ragetti while everyone else who was now surrounding them lowered their guns in frustration: "Damn to the depths whatever mutton-head thought up 'parley'!"

"That would be the French," Jack replied with a shrug and a cheeky grin.

Before just one man could react came a voice from the corridor behind them, leaving no doubt as to who gave the orders: "What's going on here? Why are you standing around here gaping, you lousy wastrels?"

The men dashed asunder to let their captain pass, and for the first time in ten years Jack and Barbossa found themselves face to face again - one calmer on the outside than he felt on the inside, and the other barely able to contain his surprise in front of Jack and the crew...

"You?" Barbossa sounded as puzzled as he looked, and his eyes mirrored his disbelief as he beheld the man he expected least of all people, and who was now standing in front of him - alive and seemingly still in one piece.

"Who else," replied Jack, tried to keep on playing his role as long as the situation would require it.

This was not the answer Barbossa wanted to hear, and so he asked with some more emphasis: "What the hell are you doing here? And how the blazes did you get off that island? There was nothing and nobody whom you could have negotiated with!"

"Let's leave it at 'I'm here now', eh?" Jack cocked his head and eyed his former first mate attentively as he continued: "There are things you don't need to know. But when you marooned me on that god-forsaken spit of land, you forgot one very important thing, mate..."

"What would that supposed to be?"

"I'm Captain Jack Sparrow..."

"Oh yes, I remember!" Barbossa gazed at him disdainfully, then turned to his men and added: "Well, I won't be making that mistake again. Gents, you all remember Captain Jack Sparrow! Kill him."

With that he wanted to turn away and leave the rest to his men, who immediately raised their arms on Jack, but he had not reckoned with his former captain's witty mind. Obviously unimpressed by what was going on around him, Jack merely focused on Barbossa, knowing that he knew something his former partner aboard the "Pearl" did not, and remarked: "It didn't work, did it?"

Barbossa stopped dead in his tracks, scarcely having taken a step, and turned on his heel: "What?"

"The girl's blood! It didn't work, right?"

Barbossa rolled his eyes and ordered, with a dangerous calm within his voice, he did not feel at all, and much to the displeasure of his crew-mates: "Hold your fire." Then, while the men lowered their weapons with some regret, he glared at Jack and asked - cautiously, thoughtfully and tensely: "What do you know about it?"

"Let's say I know what you don't! Savvy?"

Barbossa hesitated, and it couldn't be overlooked that it worked feverishly behind his brow until he realised: "You know whose blood we need."

"Yes mate," Jack replied, smiling, "I know whose blood you need..."

Chapter Text

1739 - The Black Pearl

As the "Pearl" came into view, Jack was seized with a strange uneasiness that rose from deep inside him and soon spread all over his body.

He could feel his heart beating faster with every stroke of the oars, and with it he felt the quickening of his breathing, until every fibre of his body seemed to vibrate with tension and impatience.

It felt like all the emotions that had carried him away that night when he had first held in his arms the woman he loved - and missed - beyond measure to this day. They had still only been in their teens, and yet they had known that they were meant for each other.

He closed his eyes and saw them as they lay tightly embraced in the soft moss high on the cliffs, and he heard her voice - half shy, half curious - as she asked: "Do you want it tonight..."

His hands had cupped her cheeks, and he had leant his brow against hers, when he had given her his reply: "It doesn't matter, if I am the one who wants it. You're the one who has to want it, Caith..."

"Will it hurt...?"

He had dragged her into his arms and held her close: "I ... I don't know, love... Maybe, a little... Maybe, this time because it's the first time... I' ll try to be careful... But, Caith, I promise, I will never hurt you again, when it's over..."

And she had trusted him: "Then, I want it, Jack..."

When he opened his eyes again, he knew that every moment he had waited to board his ship again in the past ten years had been worth it. Just as it had been worth waiting for the first night, and that his girl had been as ready for it as he was. And he knew it didn't matter if he boarded his beloved ship today as a captain or as a prisoner - all that mattered was that he would be able to board the "Black Pearl" again at all.

After ten long years of searching, longing and chasing, he would finally feel the planks of his own ship beneath his feet again, and he would have loved to hurl himself into the water to swim towards her - but then he realised that not everything was as he remembered it...

The nearer the boat in which he sat with Barbossa, Pintel and Ragetti came to the proud galleon, the more obvious it became that she, too, was afflicted by the curse that his former crew's greed for gold had brought upon them all.

The once night-black sails hung in tatters, and the whole ship seemed to be surrounded by pervasive decay.

The once gleaming black wood that had made her so unique looked rotten and worm-eaten, and a strange mist seemed to be swirling about the whole vessel, making it appear even more ghostly than it already was.

That was actually how Jack had always imagined Davy Jones' legendary ship - the infamous "Flying Dutchman".

Seeing his own ship like that, now, ripped deep into his heart and made him painfully aware that for years he had only seen her from afar - and that it was finally time to pry her from the clutches of the curse and his former first mate.

Once the boat was moored alongside the "Pearl", Barbossa climbed aboard, and Pintel and Ragetti motioned unequivocally for Jack to do the same.

Neither of them did say a word as they rowed from the island to the ship, and so Jack did what was expected of him: He climbed aboard heaving a deep sigh.

It was at that moment when his hand touched the rail that he felt for the first time that someone or something did brush against him - first, his fingers, then his cheek.

Also, the rail's wood felt strange: warm and - alive?

Confused, at first, he withdrew his hand, but immediately scolded himself for a fool, and put it back. Both the warmth and the barely perceptible pulsing beneath the ship's rotted surface were still there, and he seemed to be the only one who perceived both - and suddenly the warmth flowed straight from the wood into his hand and spread like a soothing fire all over him.

Once again he closed his eyes, and the memory of the day he first awoke aboard the "Black Pearl" caught up with him.

He had escaped death only days before, had sold his soul for his ship, and yet lost the most precious thing he had ever owned - the woman he loved.

Sorrow and grief had kept him captive for days in the shadows of a surreal intermediate world, until he was ready to return to life.

He had turned round in his berth and whispered: "It's time for your watch, love. You have to get up."

When there had been no answer, he had reached out for her: "Caith... ?"

Just to find that he had been sleeping all alone between cushions and blankets - and to understand that it was all true, and that his love was gone...

He had wrapped his arms around his legs, bedded his brow on his knees - and his whole body got shaken by sobbing when he cried silently until he had no tears left.

It had been Bill Turner, who had comforted him: "Let it out, son, it's not good to choke on it. Can tell you that."

The "Black Pearl" was all he had left, and with it the soul and heart of the woman he didn't want to forget, and now that he felt the warmth flowing through him, he knew: She was still with him. She had never left him.

Her heart and soul still animated his ship, and it seemed as if she was trying to resist the curse with all her might - and just when he feared he was caught in another dream, he heard her voice: "You're back…"

"Yes," he whispered in a tear-choked voice, while struggling not to let them stream down his cheeks: "Yes, I'm back, and I'll do anything I'll be able to suffer to stay with you..."

Being back aboard the "Pearl", at the same time meant, being one step closer to fulfilling his dearest desires, and so, despite some of the half-hearted protests of Barbossa's men, Jack now waited for him in the captain's cabin. He had been captain of this vessel long before she was known as the "Black Pearl", and no one, not Cutler Beckett, not Davy Jones, and not even Hector Barbossa, would deny him the right to roam freely in these rooms.

To his surprise, not much had changed in the past ten years other than the most deplorable condition the ship was in, and almost everything was still in place.

Involuntarily his eyes fell on the berth, and a sly smile appeared on his lips, which also lit up his eyes as he remembered how many nights he and Caithleen had spent in it - a great many nights, a great many passionate nights. When the ship was still the "Wicked Wench", and when he and his girl were still sailing on behalf of the East India Trading Company...

Jack's smile widened as he wondered what Barbossa would say if he would ever find out about it, but as much as the thought amused him, he was trying as hard to push it away at the same time. Because he knew one thing: It would take all his wits to defeat his former first mate and this crew of the undead.

Once he would have gotten his ship back, he would have enough leisure to surrender to his memories - for now, however, it was a case of carefully guarding each and every of the shards into which his heart had shattered off the African coast on the day the "Wicked Wench" became the "Black Pearl".

Jack was well aware of the fact that he couldn't change the past, but the future lay still before him and it was up to him to let it unfold in the way that would please him the most.

And he also knew: Somewhere, an hour, maybe two, ahead, the "HMS Interceptor" sailed towards the island, which for years he had only called Patrick's Island, and she had a brave crew aboard - foremost Gibbs and Anamaria, and the young couple who held the key to solving all their problems.

Jack smiled again.

As strange as it seemed to him at the moment, he still trusted in the courage of one Will Turner, even though he knew the boy had only freed him from out of the dungeons to save his girl and find his love. It had been his mistake to take Will for an image of his father, without considering that the boy knew nothing of all that drove him, Jack, or what his true intentions in this adventure were, and he wouldn't make that mistake again...

It was at that moment, as he made that promise to himself, when he felt once more a gentle touch brushing against his cheek.

But maybe it was just the slight breeze that enwrapped him when the door to the captain's cabin opened and Barbossa entered the room...

The wily pirate leaned against the doorpost and eyed Jack with a grin that could mean anything or nothing, before he slammed the door shut and walked over to the table in the middle of the cabin, without taking his eyes off his former captain.

"Jack Sparrow," he mused thoughtfully as he sat down in one of the chairs surrounding the table: "I have to admit I didn't expect to ever see you again."

"Hector!" Jack grinned at that remark, but otherwise seemed unimpressed: "Why am I inclined to believe you, eh?" The grin vanished as he went on: "I hope you won't mind if I tell you that I was hoping for the exact opposite. Every day over the past ten years I've longed to see you again one day. You owe me, Hector, and I intend to claim that debt. I even still have that one single shot you left me with. Funny, isn't it? But, you see, instead of perforating me brain, I preferred using it for thinking. You should try that yourself every now and then, mate..."

Barbossa noticed the scathing irony in Jack's words, but he merely acknowledged it with a wry grin before replying: "Tell me one thing, Jack: If you're as smart as you always claim you are, then why are you here? Aboard this ship, amidst the same crew that marooned you before?"

"You wouldn't ask if you didn't know, right? You probably still think I'm a born fool, don't you? You probably still think I'm weak because I prefer negotiation if it lets me avoid a fight, right?" Jack paused for a moment, then shook his head and added: "No need to deny it, I know it is so. But let me tell you this, Hector: It's only a matter of time until you'll find out which strategy is the better one. Who knows, maybe I shouldn't waste my single shot on you, but maroon you on a little godforsaken island in the middle of nowhere, instead, once you and your band of mutineers are freed from the curse, you brought upon you, eh? Just so you know how it feels to watch your ship disappear on the horizon."

At the mention of the curse, Barbossa's eyes flashed: "What do you know about the curse?"

"Only that this befalls those who are not willing to take good advice if given some! You may remember I told you that looting this treasure could turn out a fatal mistake, don't you?"

Barbossa decided to ignore that last remark: "What about the girl? You said her blood had no effect because it wasn't the blood we needed..." He leaned forward and looked at Jack across the table: "How would you know she's not the one we're looking for? After all, she had the coin and told us her name was Turner!"

That was interesting!

So Barbossa had abducted young Miss Swann not only because she had the coin around her neck, but also because she had told him her name was Turner?

The girl was bolder than Jack had already assumed, and his respect for her continued to grow.

He returned Barbossa's gaze, as he lay down within the berth, clasping his hands behind his head, then asked: "Have you ever considered that she might have lied to you?"

"Why would she do that?"

"Well, right off the bat I could think of a dozen reasons why I would lie to you, but I am afraid the girl's reasons would not be included. I can only assure you of one thing, mate, the girl is not the one you are looking for. But maybe I'll give you the name when I send you ashore. 'Cause you know why should I wait to maroon you on some godforsaken little island before you'll get rid the curse if I can do so after I and my ship got rid of you, eh?"

Barbossa tried to nonchalantly counter Jack's last comment, radiating a calm he did not feel at all: "So you expect to leave me standing on some beach with nothing but a name and your word it's the one I need, and watch you sail away on my ship?"

"No, mate!" Jack got up again regretting that his girl was not with him at these memorable negotiations, and explained: "I expect to leave you standing on some beach with absolutely no name at all, watching me sail away on my ship - and then I'll shout the name back to you. Savvy?"

Jack smiled, but his smile didn't reach his eyes. It only reflected the gaze of a man who was only following his own agenda, whereas Barbossa didn't seem to trust the whole thing for split second - least of all Jack Sparrow: "But that still leaves us with the problem of me standing on some beach with naught but a name and your word it's the one I need."

Jack shook his head, grabbed one of the fresh green apples from the bowl standing on the table, and remarked as he dropped into the chair opposite Barbossa: "Let's have it this was, mate: Of the two of us I am the only one who hasn't committed mutiny… therefore my word is the one we'll be trusting."

He placed his feet on the table, took a bite, and continued: "Although, I suppose I should be thanking you because in fact, if you hadn't betrayed me and left me to die, I would have an equal share in that curse same as you. Funny ol' world, innit?"

Barbossa grimaced.

Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Jack Sparrow was right: The mutiny and the fact that they marooned him before looting that Treasure of Cortez had saved him from the curse and all its consequences.

Irony of fate!

Before either of them could say anything more, the bosun appeared in the cabin and Barbossa's eyes brightened at what the man had to say: "Captain we're coming up on the 'Interceptor'."

This was exactly the news it took to lift his spirits up a notch, and ignoring Jack, he jumped up to follow his crewman on deck. Jack hurried to follow them and risked a look over the railing - and sure enough:

On the horizon, still well out of range, the "Interceptor" could be made out.

She had actually gained good speed and achieved a considerable lead, but it no longer mattered if she was the fastest ship in the entire Royal Merchant Fleet:

Within the longest one hour, the Pearl would have caught up with them, even with tattered sails, and Barbossa was in no mood to negotiate. What this meant, Jack could imagine only too vividly, having seen his first mate several times in the habit of fighting at sea: Nothing would remain of the "Interceptor" but smoking debris and the crew would end up in a cell below.

Therefore, Jack decided to stake everything on one card: He curtly snuck into the field of view of Barbossa's spy-glass and, while blocking the view at the ship in front of them, remarked: "Listen to me, mate! There is no need to sink that vessel. I'm having a thought here, Barbossa. Why not run up a flag of truce? I scurry over to the 'Interceptor' and I negotiate the return of your medallion, eh? What do you say to that?"

Barbossa lowered the spy-glass, and gave him a look letting Jack know that the current captain of the "Black Pearl" felt her former captain had learned nothing from the lessons life had taught him over the bygone ten years: "No, you see, Jack. That's exactly the attitude that you lost the Pearl. People are easier to search when they're dead. And that's why I'm going to strike this bargain my way."

This said, he turned to the bosun and ordered: "Lock him in the brig."

Chapter Text

1739 - Marooned

Jack leaned against the quarterdeck rail.

His eyes were fixed on the horizon, and at the same time on what lay behind. It was what he preferred within this moment, delving into what lay behind, because at this very moment he didn't really feel like thinking about what lay ahead, and yet he got inevitably reminded of it with every wave that swept past the hull of his beloved vessel.

The "Black Pearl" sailed under full canvas back on course for Isla de Muerta, and she would only briefly interrupt the crossing to the cursed Treasure Island to call at one of the small, uninhabited islands in these waters.

Jack knew what that meant: Barbossa got what he wanted, and he no longer had any use for his former captain, so he would maroon him a second time and this time most likely with more success, than in his last attempt ten years earlier. And all this was just because an overzealous boy was unable to put his passion aside for a few hours in order to use his wits.

The plan he, Jack, had unfolded in his mind intended not to harm anyone. Not even Barbossa or his crooked crew of cut-throats.

If it would have been up to him they would have captured the "Interceptor", exchanged ships, negotiated the return of the last coin of Aztec gold, and shed that one drop of blood it would have taken to lift the curse.

Barbossa and his crew could have sailed into the sunset aboard the "Interceptor" - up to the day when a certain James Norrington would have followed them aboard the "Dauntless" until he'd be able to breathe down their necks. Will and Elizabeth could have been on their way back to Port Royal, and the brave blacksmith could have asked for the hand of his courageous governor's daughter, befitting his status. And he, Gibbs and Anamaria could have set course for Patrick's Island aboard the "Pearl", together with their crew, to search for van Dijk and his "Stella".

They all could have emerged from this adventure satisfied and, more importantly, without getting severely harmed.

Instead, everything turned out unsatisfyingly different:

The "Interceptor" lay at the bottom of the ocean, Jack's crew got locked up in a cell down in the brig, Will Turner in another, and Elizabeth would most likely get marooned as well - same as he. Whether with him or on her own godforsaken little island would depend entirely on Barbossa's mood, though.

What would happen to Will, Gibbs, Anamaria, and the rest of the ragtag crew they hired in Tortuga, when they'd reach Isla de Muerta, would most probably depend on whether the boy's blood was really able to break the curse...

Jack would never openly admit it, but for a split second he'd been tempted to waste that one shot he had saved for Barbossa for so long, on Will Turner.

Could it really be that the son of a pirate couple as clever and daring as Bill and Elianor Turner turned out to be such a loggerhead?

He didn't want to believe that, and yet, had he been witness when just that did happen - when Will Turner was trying to negotiate with Hector Barbossa...

It had taken the "Pearl" less than an hour to catch up with the "Interceptor" and to capture her, but the crew, led by Gibbs and Anamaria, had not been willing to give up the manoeuvrable two-master as easily, as Barbossa had first hoped. A few clever moves had forced even the cunning pirate into daring manoeuvres, and much to his amazement, they almost managed to sail into the shallows and out of the "Pearl's" reach.

Of course, it would still only have been a matter of time before the pirates would have gotten their prize, and yet, Barbossa had to admit, there were some foresighted minds aboard the smaller ship. But the decision to make a stand against the "Pearl" in a sea-fight anyhow then also marked the end of the fastest ship in the Royal Merchant Fleet, and the tries to lighten the ship in order to make it faster turned out to be as much in vain as the crew's bold attempt on taking on the pirates.

The "Black Pearl" was faster, bigger and better armed, and into the bargain her crew consisted of battle-scarred pirates unable to die. And so it had been only a matter of time until Gibbs decided to strike the flag and signal surrender.

Following this decision, the crew had been brought aboard the "Pearl" and Barbossa had sent his two favoured cut-throats - Koehler and Twigg - aboard the "Interceptor" to blow up her powder magazine, and with it the whole vessel.

To everyone's horror, it first appeared that Will, having gotten trapped in the hold earlier during the fight, also went down with the ship, but then he appeared aboard the "Pearl" just as Barbossa was going to confidently announce that their hope of salvation had been restored:

Dripping wet and determined to force the sly pirate to his knees.

To prevent the worst, Jack had pulled out all the stops of persuasion to convince Barbossa that the boy was actually a nobody to whom no further attention should be paid, but one sentence was enough to let all his plans burst into flames:

"My name is Will Turner. My father was your helmsman, Bill Turner, and his blood runs in my veins. On my word, Barbossa, do as I say or I'll pull this trigger, and be lost to Davy Jones' Locker."

The result of this strategy was that none of them now held anything against the man, which could possibly have served as a bargaining chip.

Of course, Jack understood what Will was about when he threw in everything he thought he had, however, what he had achieved was the opposite, and all they could now hope for was only one thing: That Hector Barbossa's spirits were high enough to allow them all to go ashore somewhere unharmed, which was something Jack doubted, based on the experience of knowing Barbossa better than young Will Turner...

Light footsteps behind him made Jack forget his thoughts for the time being, and he turned his attention to the one who was now climbing the steps to the quarterdeck: Elizabeth Swann!

She was still wearing the elegant dress she had already worn in the cave on Isla de Muerta, and although weariness and concern showed on her face, there was one thing he still couldn't find on her features: Fear!

He remembered, he had already admired her boldness the day he first met her - even more than her youthful beauty - and his admiration for her had only grown when he got to see her fight like everyone else aboard the "Interceptor". She hadn't thought of herself as weak or better than everyone else on board, she had lent a hand where needed and risked her life for her crew-mates, and she hadn't shrunk from taking up arms herself to fight for the ship alongside a group of strangers she'd only met a few hours before - as it was usual at sea when one was dependent on the other.

The daughter of the governor of Port Royal had proved strong-willed and prudent, and she hadn't panicked every time something new and unexpected had befallen her and had she not been that very daughter of that very governor of Port Royal, one could easily have mistaken her for a real pirate.

A smile played on Jack's lips, as he considered that thought...

The young woman said nothing as she joined him, and for a while they stared out together at the horizon, the waves, and what lay behind. Until her desire to learn what was to come next was making its way to the surface: "You seem to know him better than anyone else on board. What do you think Captain Barbossa has planned for us next?"

Jack looked her straight in the face as he gave her his reply: "I could pretend I knew, but then I would be lying to you. Not that is would be of any meaning now, but it would still be a lie."

"Tell me anyway. I'd rather know something, even if it might not be the truth, than know nothing."

"If that's what you want," she just nodded, and Jack went on: "I think my crew will be free to go ashore anywhere they like, once Barbossa got rid of that curse. They no longer have a ship and they no longer pose a threat to him, so I believe he will no longer pose a threat to them either."

"What about you? What will become of you?"

"What will become of me?" Jack smiled at this question, but more at the question than at the answer: "Don't worry about that, Miss! As far as I got to know good ol' Hector, he'll maroon me on one of those little godforsaken islands that I'm sure you've also noticed yourself, by now. There are quite a few of them in these waters, and there's likely one waiting for you, too."

The young woman gasped at this disclosure: "But Barbossa promised Will to take me to shore...!"

"He did, it's just that your beloved blacksmith forgot to negotiate where Barbossa would take you to shore!"

"What does that mean?"

"What does that mean? That, Miss Swann, means that Will Turner has unnecessarily and recklessly endangered us all through his rash actions!"

"Will was just trying to save my life," Elizabeth protested defiantly.

"That very well may be, but it doesn't change the fact that he acted without thinking! I do not doubt his sincerity or his honest intentions. I also freely admit that I haven't fully let him in on my own plans, for which I have very good reasons, and on which I won't let you in on either at this point in time. Savvy? But knowing both his father and mother, as I told you back then on that pier in Port Royal, I had high hopes that he would use his head for thinking before squandering the only advantage we had to use it against Barbossa! The way your young blacksmith acted, neither he nor the way he acted were of great help, and he'll be lucky if he, like you, will escape at the end of this adventure with just a cut on his hand! If he's lucky! If not..."

"He'll die?"

"Most likely!"

"But..."

"I think Barbossa himself would probably prefer the version with the cut and the drop of blood, but I'm afraid his crew will think differently about that. After all, Will's father, Bill Turner, made sure that they won't be able to break the curse until they'll get hold of that golden coin you took from the boy aboard the 'Dauntless' eight years ago, when you guessed all correctly that this gold once belonged to a pirate!"

"But you must be able to do something! After all, you are Captain Jack Sparrow! The legendary, notorious Captain Jack Sparrow! I have read countless stories about you and your adventures. You must be able to think of something!"

"Miss Swann, you saw with your own eyes what happens to Captain Barbossa and his crew of miscreants during moonlit nights! I have no idea what the stories you have read or been told about me were about, but I can assure you of one thing: I can do a lot of things if you let me and if you put the necessary trust in me, but I can't work miracles!"

Elizabeth beheld him for a moment, then she nodded and looked down at the waves again.

What did she expect?

Of course he was a notorious pirate, but did that mean he loved his life less because of it...?

After a few moments of silence, it was Jack who addressed her: "You've asked me a lot of questions, Elizabeth. Will you allow me to ask you one in return now?"

"What is it that you want to know?"

"Well, Barbossa said you told him your name was Turner. How's that...?"

"Does that still matter?"

"Who knows? Maybe, one day! So it's true?" She kept silent, but Jack wasn't in the mood to give in that quickly: "You helped me escape. Me, a pirate who was waiting for certain death on the gallows! You helped me escape. In front of your father, in front of your fiancé to-be, and in front of a squad of royal soldiers! Now why would you want me to believe that you didn't have the guts to pretend to be someone you weren't, even if it put you in mortal danger! What were the real reasons? Did you want to protect Port Royal and your father? Were you trying to protect Will Turner? Or did you want to seize the unique opportunity to finally experience an adventure before you were married decently and befitting your status? Commodore Norrington would surely be a fine match for a governor's daughter, but you would certainly not experience any more adventures at his side as soon as you'd get married to him..."

Her silence told him that another of his arrows had just hit its aim...

Barely an hour later, Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth Swann were standing in the shallows, washing the almost snow-white sandy beach of the small island, on which Barbossa had marooned them, and stared after the "Black Pearl" as she disappeared within a fog bank and far out of reach on the horizon.

Frustrated, soaked to the bone once again, and thoroughly disappointed, Jack used his sword to cut through his bonds and sighed: "That's the second time I've had to watch that man sail away with my ship."

That said, and heaving another sigh, he turned away from that unwelcome sight and towards the island and its back country.

So it was true!

Not only was it the second time he had to watch Barbossa sail away aboard his ship, it was also the second time he had been stranded on this island.

Rumrunner's Island!

If there was anything comforting about their current situation, it was the fact that Barbossa had, in fact, marooned them on exactly the same island again, on which he had marooned him ten years ago, which meant:

They had palm trees and brushwood, granting them shade and firewood. There was enough food to be found all around the island to keep them alive for a while. And they had more than enough rum to drown this disastrous adventure properly - as long as Anamaria and her gang of smugglers hadn't already cleared out their secret stash months, if not years, ago.

There was just one important difference to the first time he got marooned on this isle ten years ago: This time, there would be no gang of smugglers coming to their aid, since their leader was safely under lock and key aboard the "Black Pearl" and straight on a direct course back to Isla de Muerta.

For the time being, Jack ignored Elizabeth, who was still standing in the shallows, obviously either unable or unwilling to believe what had just happened to them. He left her where she stood and stumbled over into the shadows. There he took off his boots, drained the water having entered during his involuntary dive, and hung them in the bushes to dry.

Next he cut a rag from his sash, let himself drop into the mellow sand, and began disassembling his pistol to spread its parts on the piece of cloth for them to dry as well.

Elizabeth watched him for a while, but then decided that he was still too angry and too upset to engage him in any further conversation right now of all times. It was probably for the best to leave him entirely to himself for the moment, and so she set out to sort and calm her own mind during a walk on the beach.

Jack looked after her as she headed off. From his own experience he knew just all too well that she would be back soon, because she either wouldn't need more than an hour to circle this island. And so he set about cleaning the pistol while waiting for the young woman to turn up again...

In fact, it wasn't even an hour before Elizabeth reached the initial point of her wanderings, and, visibly disappointed, she stopped to stare at her own footprints, which the shallow swell hadn't yet swept away. It was beginning to dawn on her that there must be something to the stories she'd read about deserted islands and abandoned pirates - and why the single shot given them mattered so much:

When stuck on an island one could circle within less than an hour, it might actually be better to use that shot rather early than never. But she wasn't alone, and the fact that a certain Captain Sparrow was keeping her company might yet prove useful.

Jack was just putting the freshly polished parts of his pistol back together when he spotted Elizabeth, who stared at her footprints in utter disappointment.

"It really isn't that big, is it?"

He grinned in an attempt to cheer her up, but her response suggested he had achieved the opposite: "If you're going to shoot me, please do so without delay."

Jack frowned. This wasn't what he expected, so he asked: "Is there a problem between us, Miss Swann?"

She hesitated for a moment, then replied: "I had time to think while I was on my walk around the island. Is it true what Will told me after he rescued me from this island of the dead and brought me aboard the 'Interceptor'? You were going to tell Barbossa about him in exchange for a ship?"

So that was it!

The boy had told her what he suspected and not what he knew.

"Well," Jack raised his gaze: "We could use a ship, couldn't we?"

"You...!"

"Let me tell you something, Miss Swann!" Jack looked at her sternly: "Perhaps you should listen less to guesswork and stick more to the truth before judging, eh? I thought I already told you aboard the 'Pearl' what the problem is, but if you urge me to do so I'm going to repeat myself! The fact is, I was going to NOT tell Barbossa about bloody Will in exchange for a ship, because as long as he didn't know about bloody Will, I had something to bargain with - which now no one has, thanks to bloody stupid Will, Savvy?"

Elizabeth stared at him in disbelief, and she looked caught - like a cat with its paw in the milk pot: "Oh!"

"Oh indeed...!"

Chapter Text

1739 - No Truth At All

Chapter Text

1739 - Silent as the Grave

"Mister Sparrow. You will accompany these fine men to the helm and provide us with a 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'..."

Commodore James Norrington had emphatically made clear what he expected from him, and Jack was not averse to this order insofar as on the one hand it gave him the opportunity to stay close on the heels of Hector Barbossa and his "Pearl", and as on the other hand it relieved him of having to answer unwanted questions. And so he had given the helmsman of the "HMS Dauntless" the bearings of Isla de Muerta, and then leaned back against the rail, all lost in thought.

After he and Elizabeth had spent a boisterous night drinking rum, singing and dancing around the campfire, he had eventually fallen blissfully inebriated into a deep and dreamless sleep.

As enthusiastic and passionate as she had enjoyed life together with him that night, he had been sure Elizabeth Swann longed for freedom as much as he did, but he had underestimated the young woman, and her will to find her equally daring and foolish blacksmith - and what she was willing to do for it. And so he'd awakened that morning with the vague feeling that the crackling having found its way into his consciousness, accompanied by an all-too-familiar smell of burning wood, could not bode well.

Then what he found when he finally mustered the will to open his still drowsy eyes was enough to make him question his wits - at least for that split second it took him to comprehend WHAT was bursting into flames just a few yards away!

The previous night's cosy campfire had turned into a flaming and smouldering inferno that was about to consume bushes, palm trees and coconuts - and, even worse, all the stocks of rum and brandy the smugglers' well-hidden stash had yielded!

He didn't want to believe his eyes as he watched Elizabeth Swann toss crate after crate and keg after keg to the fire, and for a moment he had even been inclined to swear that she had danced around the roaring fire like a goblin: With a big grin, and clearly pleased with herself...

In response to his despairing question as to why she had set fire to all of their supplies - particularly those in the rum bottles and kegs - she had explained to him:

"One, because it is a vile drink that turns even the most respectable men into complete scoundrels. Two: That signal is over a thousand feet high. The entire Royal Navy is out looking for me - do you really think that there's even the slightest chance that they won't see it? 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!"

It had taken him extraordinary self-control not to strangle her when she had squatted smugly in the sand to wait for those white sails on the horizon. He'd even been momentarily tempted to waste that one single shot he'd saved for Barbossa on her - until he decided that Hector Barbossa deserved that shot all the more because he hadn't warned him about the abysmal wickedness of the young woman!

Hector must have known!

Otherwise, would he have let her go so easily...?

Otherwise, would he have marooned her together with him on this island, without further ado...?

Oh yes!

Hector must have known what was hidden behind the oh-so-innocent mask of the girl, and for that he deserved the shot even more, he, Jack, had been carrying around for ten years now!

Therefore he'd tucked the pistol back into his sash and went for a walk around the isle himself - only to discover the ship near the island which had already launched a boat:

The "HMS Dauntless"...

"Commodore, I beg you! Please do this for me! As a wedding gift!"

For a moment, one could have heard a pin drop aboard the "Dauntless".

Nobody, least of all most likely James Norrington himself, had been prepared for this unexpected move by the young woman, and that Elizabeth Swann would bait her potential fiance-to-be with her vows, in order to persuade him to save from a grim fate the man she evidently loved, was something that left even Jack speechless for a while.

It was something he didn't like because, as well thought out as it seemed, it was just plain wrong, and, apparently, he wasn't the only one, whom this spontaneous change of heart caused belly ache, for Governor Swann, though pleased, did not look happy either: There was no way to miss that the older man's face reflected the question whether it was wise to trade love for reason in this case.

Of course, if Weatherby Swann would have had things his way, the young blacksmith should have been left to his fate anyway, after engaging in something as nefarious as piracy, but Jack was sure, at some point, the governor would have regretted a decision like not having done anything for the boy he had raised like a second child at his daughter's side.

To his surprise, James Norrington seemed to consider similar thoughts, but he was too overwhelmed by Elizabeth's promise to accept his proposal, that he would have been willing to do anything the young woman would have demanded from him - and so he had turned to Jack and declared:

"Mister Sparrow. You will accompany these fine men to the helm and provide us with a 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'..."

Being silent wasn't a problem in and of itself at all.

To remain silent if one was supposed to often proved a bigger challenge.

But to stay silent while being forced to watch someone else manoeuvre a ship's helm, and thus the ship itself, proved more difficult than controlling the urge to either strangle or shoot a goblin in the form of a certain governor's daughter while it was smugly dancing around a burning stash of rum on a godforsaken island in the Caribbean.

Jack had to admit to himself that he felt bored out of his mind, and that obeying Norrington's orders wasn't quite as easy as he first thought - and so the two soldiers who were supposed to keep a watchful eye on him came to him at just the right time. The two were Mullroy and Murtogg, the overeager guards, who had already found it difficult to resist the stories he had to tell back in Port Royal, and Jack smirked:

Both looked at least as bored as he felt and therefore it was only a matter of time before their curiosity and boredom got the better of them, and before they joined the pirate they were actually supposed to guard - hoping he would finally tell them the end of that Cannibal Island tale he had begun telling them aboard the "Interceptor" before young Miss Swann fell from the garrison's battlements into the sea.

The two lowered their guns as they sauntered over to him, and Murtogg, the wispy one, cleared his throat: "Sorry, for disturbing you, Captain...ah...Mister Sparrow! For sure you have more important things to do than giving someone like us a bit of your attention, but we thought, since this is, again, one of those afternoons where absolutely nothing happens..."

"...that I could tell you a bit more about the cannibals?"

"Well...um...yes..."

Jack had a look around, then decided that as far as he could tell, he had nothing more important to do, and turned back to the two soldiers: "Looks like you're in luck, mates! Unless a storm comes up somewhere out of nowhere, which is rather unlikely, and if not the captain of this pretty boat wants to marry the overjoyed Commodore and the most likely not so overjoyed Miss Swann right here on deck today right now, which is also rather unlikely, then I might be inclined to neglect all those important things I should be doing up here at the helm to tell you a story or two. Does that answer your question satisfactorily, or am I missing something?"

Exchanging a look with his comrade, the round-faced Mullroy now also joined the conversation: "I know my mate would rather hear about the cannibals, but couldn't you tell us about this ship we're hunting instead?"

"Ah, the ship," Jack's eyes twinkled mischievously at his reply: "I assume you mean that ship with black sails, that's crewed by the damned, that's captained by a man so evil that hell itself spat him back out and that's not a real ship and therefore couldn't be faster than the 'Interceptor', eh...?"

Mullroy bit his lip nervously, then stared guiltily at the tips of his boots, and muttered something like: "That ship, yes..."

"Oh, I could tell you a lot of stories about that vessel, mates, but do you think it's wise to tell stories about this ship, right now, that not only outran the 'Interceptor', but also scuttled her? I for my part don't have much left to lose, because the gallows are waiting for me anyway as soon as the 'Dauntless' returns to Port Royal, but how will you, two respectable gentlemen like yourself, explain to your commodore that you are more interested in the pirate ship that sank your commodore's ship than in your commodore's ship itself, eh?"

The two soldiers exchanged a confused look, and Murtogg was just about to reply when another familiar face joined them:

Lieutenant Groves climbed the steps to the rudder deck, exchanged a few words with the helmsman, and finally relieved him at the helm.

After that he turned to Mullroy and Murtogg, and motioned for them to leave him and Jack alone: "Gentlemen, you have done your duty for the moment. Report to Lieutenant Gillette for new orders and leave Captain Sparrow to me."

The unhappy faces of the two soldiers said enough: They felt once again betrayed of their story, and wondered if they would ever hear it through to the end, considering the pirate's uncertain fate, who was the only one who could have told them this tale. Nevertheless, for the time being, they had no choice but to troll off and leave both the pirate and the helm to Lieutenant Groves.

He waited until the two guards were out of sight and hearing, then glanced at the course Jack had plotted for the helmsman, and said: "You seem to enjoy searching for any kind of risk, don't you, Captain?"

"Let's say any kind of risk seems to find me whenever possible, Lieutenant!"

"If you consider that barely a week has passed since you showed up at Port Royal, and if you then consider everything that has happened in such a short period of time, it must be like that."

"Unlike your comrade down there," Jack nodded at young Gillette, who stood guard near the entrance to the ship's guest quarters, "you don't seem to mind that kind of distraction, do you, mate?"

Groves laughed: "Andrew? Don't let his grim expression fool you. He's a good man and really decent through and through. Sometimes, he's maybe a little too conscientious and a little too often he's a little too overeager, but he's always loyal and sincere. However, I think he would prefer a quieter post to any of the extraordinary events of the past few days. Besides, he still seems to resent you for you and Turner having so audaciously sent him off the 'Dauntless'..."

"I had to think of something simple. After all, I really didn't want to harm him or his men."

"You succeeded. Except that they all suffered a minor bruise as far as their pride goes, they were all fine when we took them on board. But I have to say, you've taught our Commodore a fine lesson in piracy. I don't think he really liked that I called you the best pirate I've ever seen..."

"Did you like what you saw?"

"Do you really need an answer to that?"

Jack grinned: "No, but if you ever intend to change sides, I can always use a good man."

"Not afraid of the gallows?"

"Will it suffice to say that I know I shall not die on land when the time comes?"

"Sounds reassuring..." Groves returned the grin, then added in a low voice: "As you can probably imagine, I'm not just here to make conversation. Miss Swann asked me to tell you that she would like to speak to you later, after nightfall..."

As night fell, calm descended on the deck of the "Dauntless".

Those off duty or not on watch were getting a hatful of sleep or preparing for the upcoming fight with the pirates, as soon as the ship would reach the fabled Isla de Muerta. But even if no one aboard the "Dauntless" could really imagine that it would become too difficult to overwhelm the pirates, it was always better to prepare for resistance - even if the ship one was sailing on was heavily armed.

Jack had kept Groves company at the helm and enjoyed to while the adventurous lieutenant with his tales - until both noticed the figure leaning against the rail like waiting for something or someone. Groves pointed at Elizabeth, and sent Jack down to her: "She's already waiting for you. Hurry! I'll come up with a good excuse for sending you away - in case someone should ask..."

Jack nodded at him and went down the steps to join the young woman, who looked so completely different as she now stood next to him in seaman's clothes and no longer in a thin underdress: "I heard you already missed me. How's that, love?"

Elizabeth raised her head and beheld him - thoughtful and obviously driven by inner unrest: "I would be grateful to you if you could just be serious for once, Captain Sparrow!"

"Oh, I am serious darling! I was just wondering why, on a night like this, you'd want me of all people. After all, you've just convinced your fiancé-to-be to risk his life for your lover-to-be. And now you long for a pirate? You could have had that easier last night, Lizzie..."

She rolled her eyes at that answer and replied: "I could imagine something more pleasant than letting you seduce me under palm trees, drunk on rum, on a lonely beach at night..."

"Is that so? Hmm, let me think. Who was it who got me drunk, last night...? Not me, right...?" She didn't respond, and so he added: "Afraid Norrington will find out one day what you secretly wished for, when you spent nights on reading stories about me?"

"You are impudent, Jack Sparrow..."

"And you sold yourself this afternoon, Miss Swann! Yourself and Will Turner right away! When you gave to Norrington the promise of your vows..."

Elizabeth didn't answer immediately, but seemed to be thinking about something, then, after a moment of silence, she said: "You didn't tell James about the curse."

"Neither did you, as I noticed. And for the same reason, I suppose..."

"He would not have taken the risk..."

"If you hadn't wasted all the rum on smoke signals, you could have gotten him drunk. What worked once would certainly have worked a second time." Jack sighed and turned his gaze away: "Don't get me wrong love, I really admire when someone is willing to do whatever it takes, but don't you think you went too far on this one? You know what I mean, don't you?"

Elizabeth stared at him in silence for a moment before telling him: "You're a smart man, Jack...but I don't know if I can trust you..."

"Peas in a pod, darling," he simply replied: "I feel the same way..."

At that moment they both heard footsteps behind them - Norrington had appeared out of nowhere and was eyeing them suspiciously - and neither Jack nor Elizabeth could tell what he might or might not have heard...

Without any hint that he might have heard anything at all, he tossed the compass to Jack and beckoned him to follow: "Come with me, Sparrow!"

Jack hesitated for a split second, gave Elizabeth a quick glance, and followed Norrington, who had disappeared towards the quarterdeck.

Norrington turned when he noticed that Jack had caught up with him. His hands clasped behind his back and his gaze past Jack to the sea, he finally remarked: "You can probably imagine why I waited until nightfall to talk to you. Not everyone needs to know what I expect to hear from you."

"This is a ship, mate," Jack pointed out: "You will hardly find a place on board where someone is not listening to your conversations, intentionally or unintentionally..."

"Enough with those sophistries, Sparrow! How long do you think until we reach Isla de Muerta?"

"With these favourable winds - before midnight. Just don't underestimate the reefs that surround the island. Completely different ships than your 'Dauntless' have ran aground there or got smashed by them."

"I'll take that into consideration." After a moment's thought, Norrington looked at the compass that was now back on Jack's belt and asked with a frown: "What's the deal with that? What self-respecting sailor would trust a broken compass?"

"Let's say that depends entirely on what you consider 'broken', eh?"

"That's pettifoggery, Sparrow! Nothing else! I'm sure you could find Isla de Muerta without this compass. After all, you haven't just been a sailor since yesterday, have you?"

"If you say so!"

Jack watched Norrington for a while.

The newly engaged Commodore seemed tense and by no means as if he just wanted to make conversation. After all, he was a passable seaman himself, and could have easily answered the questions himself he had just asked. So there had to be some other reason for this late-night conversation, and Jack was hell-bent on finding out that reason.

So he asked forthrightly: "Commodore, please! I know you're not asking why I'm relying on a 'broken' compass, or if I could find an island somewhere in the Caribbean Sea, eh? What is it really that made you summon me to this late-night tryst on the quarterdeck of your ship? If I were you, I'd let it out before I'd choke on it!"

Jack knew he was on the right track when Norrington straightened up and finally answered: "All right, Sparrow! Let's stop beating around the bush! What happened really out there on that godforsaken island? And why did Elizabeth... why did Miss Swann so suddenly consent to a marriage with me? Speak up!"

Jack wasn't able to hide his grin!

So that was it!

Commodore James Norrington was jealous!

And he agonized over whether his little bride might have lost her virginity during the previous night - to him, the pirate, whom he longed to see at the gallows...

"Well then, as you wish! If you want to know if I have seduced the future Misses Commodore, the answer is no! If you want to know if I could have imagined seducing Miss Swann, the answer is yes! Imagine it, mate: A mild night on a lonely island. You laugh, drink, dance around a campfire and the woman who keeps you company is young, beautiful and witty. You'd have to be made of wood not to think of trying to seduce a woman like that. And even though it's hard for me to admit - even I am just a man..."

"What held you back?"

"Let's put it this way, my dear Mister Commodore: There are men who are only concerned with satisfying their own lust and desire when they are with a woman, but that's not enough for me! My point is that when I spend a night with a woman, the woman I hold in my arms, should feel at least as much desire, lust, and pleasure as I do. What's the point in seducing a woman if she won't enjoy it, eh?"

He paused for a wink, then added: "But why ask me? After all, I'm just a despicable pirate who deserves nothing more than a noose around his neck, right?"

"Miss Swann seems to be looking at you from a different angle, Mister Sparrow. Otherwise I can't explain it to myself that she stands up for you so vehemently and undeterred!

"Perhaps she sees something in me that you are unable or unwilling to see! Or maybe she's just following her feelings..."

"Her feelings? What do you mean by that?"

"Unlike you, Mister Norrington, Elizabeth seems to trust her inner voice and her feelings. She's acting selflessly, haven't you noticed?"

Jack shrugged and added when he caught Norrington's blank look: "Have you ever spent a thought on the question if what you're about to do is right? Do you really care about Elizabeth, or do you have other reasons why you would like to marry her? Do you love her or are you just looking for a woman who seems appropriate to your status? A little poppet that will run your household one day? An exotic flower, you can show off on your hat or the lapels of your uniform? A woman that every other man will envy you for? If these are your reasons for wanting to marry Miss Swann, then let me tell you something, Commodore: Find out how you really feel about her. If you really love her and if you really care about her, don't put any strings on her when she asks you for help. Miss Swann has known you long enough to trust you, and I advise you: Don't take advantage of that!"

"For having instructed you to spend the rest of this crossing pondering the meaning of the phrase 'Silent as a Grave', you talk a surprising amount!"

"You came to me, Norrington, because you wanted my advice! So listen carefully to what I advise you: You want Elizabeth Swann, good! I actually believe you, mate! But whatever you want, remember one thing: What it is Elizabeth Swann wants. And that would be Will Turner! Desire whatever you want, Commodore, just don't be disappointed in the end if you don't get what you desire. Savvy?"

"What do you know about these kinds of things, Sparrow? Surely you've got a girl in every harbour you've ever docked in!"

"No, Commodore! Even a pirate can lose his heart to the one woman he would give anything for - even his life...!"

Chapter Text

1739 - Isla de Muerta - Part 2

Jack had chosen the same hideout from which he and Will had already observed the almost magical subterranean hall with its treasures and the huge stone chest in its middle, the first time. The difference, however, was that now Will Turner, and not Elizabeth Swann, was standing next to Hector Barbossa and the sarcophagus with the cursed Aztec gold.

And also the mood amongst the crew had changed.

If the men had still been full of confidence and joyful anticipation of their deliverance from the fatal curse when they first met here within this mystically lit hall, one could now feel the tension amongst them almost physically.

The girl had told them her name was Turner, but her words had been a lie, and her blood had turned out worthless, at least if it came to paying back to the old gods the blood they demanded. And now there was this boy standing next to Barbossa, who in turn had also claimed to be Bill Turner's son, but other than his resemblance to the "Black Pearl's" former helmsman, there was no evidence of that - not yet, at least.

Jack knew Barbossa was under the pressure of finally having found the right victim for the blood sacrifice - and his crew would not leave it at a single drop this time. The men, as much as they respected their captain - and partly even feared him - would not forgive him for another mistake. And so, more than ever, it mattered to wait for the opportune moment to interrupt the spectacle down there, and to steer it in a direction that would finally allow him, Jack, to settle this first of his many unsettled scores.

Against all odds, this time he was confident that nothing would interfere with his plans.

The boy who had managed so brilliantly to successfully sabotage him every time was now standing where he actually shouldn't be, but where he would be of great help. And also the unexpected presence of the "HMS Dauntless" in the waters near Isla de Muerta, played into his hands better than he had initially wanted to admit.

Maybe it hadn't been so stupid at all to burn the rum supplies to reach out for help, and maybe one day he would have to apologize to the dancing goblin in the shape of Elizabeth Swann...

In any case, both the fire and James Norrington's decision not to abandon Will Turner to his fate had brought him a good deal closer to his "Pearl" and to the end of this decade-long adventure.

Once the drop of blood was spilled and once the curse was broken, the crew of the "Dauntless" could take on the pirates, while he himself could finally deal with Hector Barbossa.

And yet, one thing had to be considered in all his plans - he needed an alternative to those very plans, because if even a tiny piece of this puzzle didn't fit the big picture, all the effort would have been in vain, and then even the best plan would fail.

A lesson he'd had to learn over the years - and one that had cost him dearly.

But there was no time to dwell on the past any longer. If he wanted to win back his "Pearl", and if he wanted to save Will Turner from certain death, he needed all his senses right here and now - and more than anything he needed his sharp mind.

Knowing there was no turning back, Jack now made his way down to the hall, ready for Hector Barbossa and ready to face their final confrontation.

No one bothered him while he slipped past the pirates, who were staring spellbound, at Barbossa and the treasure chest - and at the stone knife he held in his hand.

Apparently completely unconcerned, he nevertheless observed carefully what was going on around him. After all, there was one major difference between him and the men in the cave: They couldn't die, but he could... and that was something he wanted to avoid at all costs... though his curiosity told him otherwise...

What if one of the golden coins ended up with him via detours?

Without anyone else noticing...?

Jack had to force himself to ignore this idea for the time being, although it seemed to become more tempting with every step he took towards the chest and the gold. Instead, he refocused on Will and Barbossa, who, stone knife in a firm grip, had begun to recite the magical words needed for the ritual - "Begun by blood... by blood un..." - when Will spotted him: "Jack!"

That one word was enough, and the attention of everyone assembled in the cave was now completely undivided upon Jack.

Barbossa looked like he had seen a ghost, and his gaze told his own story as he said more to himself than to the others: "This is not possible!"

"Not probable," Jack corrected him.

However, he did not get around to adding anything else, because Will only wanted to know one thing: "Where is Elizabeth?"

Jack sighed, turned to the boy instead of Barbossa, and replied: "She's safe, just like I promised. She's all set to marry Norrington just like she promised. And you get to die for her, just like you promised. So we're all men of our word really, except for Elizabeth, who is in fact...a woman."

That wasn't what Will wanted to hear but Barbossa didn't give him a chance to answer, and pressed the knife to his throat once more, only to hear Jack's voice tell him: "You don't want to be doing that, mate..."

Accustomed to the way Jack was wont to negotiate, Barbossa chose to ignore that last sentence outright: "No, I really think I do..."

Until that moment when Jack's almost whispered words made their way into his consciousness, which, accompanied by a shrug, sounded so disinterested that they had to be important: "Your funeral..."

It seethed deep within Barbossa's innermost. He was just a cut and a few drops of blood away from finally getting rid of that damn curse. Just a cut, but, damn it, to hell with Jack Sparrow: "Why don't I want to do it?"

"Well, because..." Jack put on the most innocent expression he was able to find: "...the 'HMS Dauntless', pride of the Royal Navy, is floating just off shore, waiting for you..."

Unrest spread among the men, and their surprised murmurs echoed through the subterranean hall as they debated what to do next.

Barbossa eyed Jack suspiciously, inwardly bristling with anger.

It seemed he had once again underestimated his former captain and his clever moves. But what bothered him most about it was that he would obviously once again be dependent on his former captain and those clever moves.

After a while, trying to keep himself under control, he finally put the knife down and acted calmly while he asked: "I remember you once told me that this island can only be found by those who know where it is. How is it then that an English warship found its way through the passage?"

A murmur of agreement ran through the ranks of his men, but Jack just grinned and explained: "Hector, you may be an exceptionally good sailor, and maybe you're even a passable captain too, but there's one thing you still haven't learned in all those years you've been sailing the world's seas!"

"What would that be?" Barbossa snorted.

"You never learned to think a step or two ahead."

"This means?"

"This means," Jack climbed up to the enormous treasure chest, to negotiate with Barbossa on an equal footing again: "I wouldn't have returned to Isla de Muerta without making sure I had a reasonable chance of getting out of here alive, Savvy?"

Barbossa cursed inwardly, then remarked through clenched teeth: "So you brought the redcoats here...?"

"That's it, mate! But I left them in the dark about what will await them here and they have no clue that I could think of warning you. So listen to me now and learn something for the future, if you are still interested in having one! You order your men to row out to the 'Dauntless', they do what they do best. Robert's your uncle, Fannie's your aunt, there you are with two ships. The makings of your very own fleet. Of course, you'll take the grandest as your flagship, and who's to argue? But what of the 'Pearl'?"

Jack looked first at Barbossa, then at Will, and again at Barbossa, before he went on: "Name me Captain. I'll sail under your colours, I'll give you ten percent of me plunder, and you get to introduce yourself as 'Commodore Barbossa.' What do you say to that?"

One could see, that it began to work behind Barbossa's brow.

The idea in itself sounded tempting, but he knew where the suggestion came from, so one thing was for sure - there was a catch to it, and he thought he knew what it was: "I'm assuming you expect me to let the lad live in return..."

"I would never ask anything so thoroughly stupid of you! Of course you don't have to let the boy live, but..." Jack now looked Will directly in the eyes: "...wait with killing him until the opportune moment..."

He didn't miss the flash in Will's eyes. The boy seemed to understand - also that he should just shut up, since Barbossa hadn't missed their interaction either - and so he went on to explain, while taking a handful of gold coins from the chest and gradually throwing them back in, as if to underscore his words and give them more weight: "For instance, after you've killed Norrington's men ... Every ... Last ... One..."

A barely noticeable movement of his hand, and one of the coins disappeared unnoticed by everyone but Will.

And suddenly it dawned on the boy that Jack had never wanted to trade his life for the ship, but only tried to find the opportune moment to finally take revenge on those who had mutinied against him, who had marooned him, who had cheated him of his ship - and who had killed one of his closest friends:

His father, Bill Turner!

He looked at Jack and asked: "You've been planning this from the beginning, right? Ever since you found out that I was the one you were looking for...?"

"Yep!"

Not quite sure, what was the point of what Will and Jack had to discuss, Barbossa wanted to make sure that they all turned back to the essentials: "I want fifty per cent of your plunder..."

Jack was only too happy to enter into these negotiations - the more distraction and confusion, the better: "Fifteen..."

"Forty..."

"Twenty-five, and..." Jack considered: "...I'll buy you a hat. A really big one! What say you? Commodore."

Barbossa thought it over, and Jack knew he had seized on his vanity as he stretched out his hand and declared: "Agreed! We have an accord."

After shaking hands, each sure to have cheated the other, Jack turned to the men, who had been following the whole goings-on attentively, but without having the slightest clue what it was really about: "All hands to the boats!"

Barbossa shot him a glare and Jack understood: "Apologies, you give the orders."

With a knowing smile and once again surrounded with the air of innocence that had so often served him so well, he finally stepped aside and let Barbossa go first - and his smile faded as he heard his former first mate say: "Gents, take a walk!"

Now it was Barbossa's turn to give Jack a wide grin when he heard his former captain ask: "Not to the boats?"

It was quiet in the subterranean cave with its treasures, watercourses and wildly branched corridors, and only now and then would muffled sounds come in from outside as the "Dauntless" fired her guns.

After it turned out to be true that the English were waiting for the pirates in the waters around the island, Barbossa got to understand why Jack had warned him not to spill the boy's blood too soon, and thus lift the curse too soon as well.

What he still didn't understand though, was why Jack had warned him about it.

After all, there was nothing to thank Barbossa and his crew for, and still less was there any reason why he should have owed them a warning, considering everything that had happened between them years ago.

No, there was no plausible explanation for anything that had happened in the past hour, and yet everything seemed to make sense in a unique way - even if Jack seemed to be the only one who got that sense.

Barbossa wasn't sure if it would turn out wise, having made that deal, promising Jack the "Pearl" if he actually managed to capture the "Dauntless", but why not choose the bigger ship and send a shrewd captain like Jack aboard the "Pearl" to hunt for a proper prey...!?

The only question was whether this was actually what Jack Sparrow wanted, or whether there was more to the proposals with which he had shown up so unexpectedly.

With Barbossa still deeply lost in thought, Jack took the chance to explore the enormous treasury, the men had transformed the cave into over the years.

Somewhere in between all that gold and silver there had to be something worth taking aboard the "Pearl", but actually none of what lay scattered around here really interested him. None of these treasures would bring back what he had lost years ago, and neither pearls nor gold nor jewels would be able to give him the warmth that had given him the closeness to the woman he so desperately longed for.

But Jack knew he couldn't lose himself in those thoughts, as it wasn't time yet to settle scores with Lord Cutler Beckett - and before he could take on that challenge, he first had to get through this day alive...

Will watched Jack roam the cave seemingly aimlessly, while searching among the untold treasures for something that suited him.

Nothing in his demeanour suggested that he was driven by a lust for gold, that he was filled with a desire for power, or that he wanted to buy such power with gold and silver.

Just the contrary!

And the longer Will watched him the more he felt the burning desire to finally be able to ask him all the questions he should already have asked him on board the "Interceptor" during their crossing to Tortuga - questions about Bill and Elianor, questions about Caithleen Stevens, and questions about the man himself: Jack Sparrow...

The young man regretted not having done so long ago, for it was far from written that they would get through this day alive and unharmed.

Their lives and survival no longer depended solely on their skills - more than ever, they would also need a good amount of luck. And whether Jack would actually still be willing to answer all his questions at the end of that day, especially after he, Will, had repeatedly sabotaged him - whether intentionally or unintentionally - was written in the stars...

Much to Will's surprise, he wasn't the only one who seemed to be driven by curiosity for answers to his questions: Hector Barbossa also seemed to follow his former captain's every step until he could no longer contain himself and asked completely unexpectedly: "Tell me, Jack Sparrow, what is this mystery you're surrounded by?"

"What mystery?" Jack looked over at Barbossa, and one could see that he really didn't know what was meant: "I have no idea what you're talking about, mate!"

"It's hard for me to believe that, lad! There's something you're surrounded by, something that will eventually make everyone who crosses your path listen and trust you - whether friend or foe. You know full well that it is as I say and you will hardly be able to deny that."

"Maybe it's not such a big secret at all. Maybe it's just because I do all those things everyone who crosses my path would like to do, but don't have the guts to do and who therefore like to listen to me and place their trust in me. Who knows, eh?"

"It may be, but it also may not be. I have sailed under your command for two years, Jack Sparrow, and I've had ten years to think about those two years. Enough time to find out that you are definitely not the naïve chatterbox you like to pretend to be and that many people think you are or are supposed to think you are. When it was necessary, I've seen you fight often enough. You're as good as anyone with a sword and gun maybe even better because you're witty to the core. I saw how cold-blooded you were in capturing that Spanish galleon, which captain you wanted to settle scores with. So don't tell me you couldn't fight. You don't wanna, and I wonder why. What's it all about, that you prefer this thing of negotiation to a good fight?"

"Have you ever considered that I may prefer negotiating because I don't have to prove anything to myself any more? Honestly, Hector, I really prefer a battle of wits over a battle of swords."

"Then tell me, if you're neither driven by the search for treasure nor by the desire to throw yourself into even the most insignificant melee, then what is it that you're looking for? You are neither rich nor do you have any treasures worth mentioning..."

"That depends on what you consider treasure, mate!" Jack now looked Barbossa frankly in the face and added: "You might not call it such, but I own more than one treasure. They're just not made of silver and gold. Savvy?"

Barbossa just nodded at that answer. It took him a while to process what he had just heard from Jack, then, after a while, he remarked: "I must admit, Jack: I thought I had you figured. But turns out, you're a hard man to predict..."

Jack grinned at that! Barbossa had no idea at all: "Me? I'm dishonest. And a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest. Honestly! It's the honest ones you want to watch out for. Because you can never predict when they're going to do something incredibly... stupid..."

Chapter Text

1739 - Return to Port Royal

The shot cracked and time seemed to stand still while its echo resounded through the widely branched cave system and its aisles.

For a felt interminable moment, neither of them moved, until Barbossa turned his gaze at Jack, beholding him in utter disbelief. There was a slightly mocking note to his words as he asked: "Ten years you carry that pistol, and now you waste your shot?"

Jack didn't reply.

He stood motionless among all the treasures, and just looked the elsewise so sly pirate straight in the eye over the still-smoking barrel of his pistol.

It was Will who answered the question instead: "He didn't waste it."

Barbossa's gaze shifted from Jack over to the boy who was standing by the treasure chest, a bloodied knife in hand, and just then dropped two gold coins into the chest - one of them the coin Jack had palmed during their negotiations, the other the coin Bill Turner had sent over to his son ten years ago...

Jack knew he would not forget the expression that now crossed his former first mate's face, as his surprise first turned into pain and then to something that came very close to relief. Blood stained his shirt where the short from Jack's pistol had hit him and for a split second he felt his heartbeat again, the wind on his face and the life returning to his body before it slowly ebbed away: "I feel ... cold..."

The curse was broken, Hector Barbossa was dead - and Jack didn't know what to feel except for having reached the end of this ten-year journey.

For a moment he had expected something like a heavy burden to fall off him, but there was nothing - neither a sense of triumph nor a sense of satisfaction.

It was more like a touch of melancholy that came over him as the rigidity that had spread through him after the shot slowly melted away, mixed with the unexpected feeling of sadness that he couldn't figure out why it came over him so suddenly.

Perhaps it was the knowledge that Barbossa had now found both his peace and salvation - something he himself was still far from being able to achieve...

To die!

That thought had haunted him over and over again since he, Will, and Elizabeth had returned aboard the "Dauntless".

In all those years since he had first been allowed to set sail aboard his own vessel, he had faced death countless times, and as many times as he had faced and escaped it, he feared it just as little now. But like every living being that felt and breathed, he too was attached to life and everything having a meaning to him in this life - and so was he, even though he knew that day was to come one day, not prepared for that day to come so soon.

In less than a day's journey they would return to Port Royal, and even if he had not yet been told so, he knew that the gallows would be waiting there for him.

In a way he was even grateful to Norrington, for it would spare him a long and agonizing journey to London aboard one of the Royal Navy's warships - something he had been keen to avoid at all costs.

The only thing he would have wished for, would have been, to settle scores with Lord Cutler Beckett and his ruthless henchman, Ian Mercer. To know, that these two would most likely outlive him without paying the price for what they had done to him and his girl, almost made his heart fly into flinders - and he began to wonder if, instead of chasing after Barbossa, he shouldn't have sent those two to hell.

Jack heaved a sigh.

He lay within his berth in one of the cabins aboard the "Dauntless", and stared thoughtfully at the ceiling with his head in his hands.

Actually, he had planned to turn his back on Isla de Muerta, and to sail towards the sunrise together with his crew aboard his beloved "Pearl".

The English had been so preoccupied with the pirates and their own dead and injured, they would not even have noticed his escape, and he would have even offered Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann to accompany him - the pirate who wanted to be a decent blacksmith, and the governor's daughter, who would have loved to be an adventuress.

But as was so often the case with ambitious plans, they tended to prove deceptive if one made the mistake of placing too much hope in them, and so he did not sail towards the horizon as captain of the "Black Pearl", but as a prisoner on board the "Dauntless" back to Port Royal.

Elizabeth had confessed to him what had happened after she managed to sneak aboard his ship unnoticed to free his crew:

She wanted to ask Gibbs, Anamaria, and the rest to help her save Will, but the only answer she got was that he, Jack, owed them a ship anyway, and that the "Pearl" would make a very good replacement for the meanwhile scuttled "Interceptor". Not to mention Anamaria's dinghy.

'I cannot blame them,' Jack thought: 'They did what was right by them, they kept to the code, and they claimed the ship I promised them and which they think they deserve. One cannot ask for more...'

An involuntary smile curled his lips as he realised how absurd the whole thing was:

He had risked everything and wasted ten years of his life hunting down Barbossa and his crew of mutineers, only to lose the "Pearl" to a brazen smuggler and a bunch of landlubbers the same day he finally managed to settle his score with his former first mate. And all because he foolishly promised a ship to that brazen smuggler and that bunch of landlubbers that he had actually only promised them so that they would follow him on this harebrained adventure in the first place.

If that wasn't an irony of fate...

'Well,' he thought, 'if I want to blame anyone for the outcome of this adventure, I most likely just have to look into a mirror.'

All these years had he wished for nothing more than finally sailing aboard his "Pearl" again. Even more so, after having felt the heartbeat of the ship, and after that inexplicable warmth had flooded through him, that seemed to be hidden under the black wood - and since he got to realise his "Pearl" was more than just a ship...

And Barbossa and his crew?

To his own surprise, he still felt no satisfaction at Hector Barbossa's death, or at the knowledge that his men were now imprisoned aboard the "Dauntless" and locked up within the brig.

On the contrary, as he had to admit to himself!

He knew, unlike him, the men would be sent for the crossing to England aboard the next ship, where not only the gallows would be waiting for them, but also a bath in tar and a cage on the banks of River Thames - and what that meant he remembered just all too vividly.

It was a punishment he didn't even wish on this gang of cut-throats.

He was too much of a pirate for that - and he hated any kind of injustice too much for that.

But it wasn't just his own dreams which vanished into thin air within seconds. Also, the dreams of Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann were now nothing more than a pile of shards. And miracles would hardly be expected once they returned to Port Royal:

Since Will had again failed to seize the opportune moment and tell his beloved Elizabeth how he really felt about her, she would now make good on the promise she had made to James Norrington.

Miss Swann would become the honourable Misses Norrington, and the boy had decided to return to England to claim his inheritance from the Cole family - something that was very much his due as the son of Elianor and the grandson of Sir Edwin.

As for himself, Jack, there would probably be more stories and legends surrounding him and his adventures after his death than there were already.

And yet there was the knowledge that he would not die on land...

Heaving another sigh, he sat up and looked wearily at the small casket of jewels and coins on the table in front of him - the only treasures he took from Isla de Muerta. They were no longer of any value to him, but he hoped Will would find use for them - if not as a pirate, then perhaps as an honourable blacksmith, or even as Sir Edwin Cole's rightful heir.

Footsteps approached the door to his cabin, and Jack decided he wasn't in the mood to see any of the English, least of all James Norrington - and so he dived back into his berth to await what was to come.

Unexpectedly, and not at all as unwelcome as first feared, Lieutenant Groves scurried into the cabin - loaded with a tray emitting an enticing scent that made Jack aware that it must have been a while since he'd had anything decent in his stomach.

After all, neither the last few days nor the transformation into a skeleton and back had passed him by traceless, and so he decided that his spirits were just beginning to lift quite a bit, and that Groves was perhaps not the worst of all Englishmen who could disturb him in his involuntary exile. So he looked at the soldier briefly, before he sat up again and asked, grinning while nodding his head at the tray: "What's that, mate? Surely not my last meal yet?"

Groves returned the grin as he placed the tray on the table: "Don't worry, Captain, it's not that far yet."

"Trust me, I would have held that against you personally, if they hadn't at least waited with it until we got back to Port Royal. Because, you know, I'm really in no hurry to get to it."

"Understandable!"

Jack strolled over to the table, surveyed curiously what was on the plates in front of him, and agreed with himself, that the last time he had enjoyed such a sumptuous meal was when he and Caithleen had still wintered at Sir Edwin's manor.

So it was quite a long time ago.

He glanced at Groves, then asked: "Will you tell me whose table you got all those delicacies from?"

"Do you want me to end up in the brig for that?"

"Ah! So it's that bad... Hmm... then it will taste twice as good."

Following no ceremony was the first to go, one of the lemon cakes, followed by a second and a few sips of port, before he realised how hungry he really was.

"Seems it was necessary," Groves remarked, looking at the plates that were quickly emptying.

"You have no idea," Jack replied between two bites of fried chicken: "But I have to admit I'm glad to see you, mate. Could have ended worse for you. Are you still convinced that piracy is for you?"

"That would depend on trying don't you think?"

"How is it that you are so enthusiastic about it? I mean look at you. You are a good soldier, a good sailor at that. You have everything it takes to advance quickly in the Royal Navy. And yet you are still only Lieutenant Groves and not Commodore or something like that?"

"Let's say it all depends on whether someone is desperate to climb the ladder. I like being a sailor, Captain, but I don't really have ambitions to advance to the higher ranks."

"I understand! That explains why so many decent men like you are merely decent sailors, and why so many unscrupulous men command the ships of the Royal Navy..."

"Oh, James isn't that bad..."

"I'm not talking about Norrington..."

They were both silent for a moment before Groves, much to Jack's astonishment, made sure no one was overhearing them outside the door, and then explained: "If I were you, I wouldn't worry too much about what might await you in Port Royal. You have friends who don't want to see you hanged..."

"Have you ever considered that if you help me, your head might end up in the noose instead of mine?"

"If I wasn't willing to take a risk, I wouldn't be a soldier...or a sailor. Besides, the idea wasn't mine. Thank Turner for that, Captain..."

He didn't get to tell Jack more about what Will had obviously begun planning behind everyone's back, because the door opened once more and James Norrington stepped in - not quite as welcome as Groves, but all the less unexpected .

He gestured for the guard to wait for him outside the door, then spotted Groves and frowned. It did not escape him that his lieutenant felt a certain admiration for Jack Sparrow, but to find the two sitting together at one table amazed him more than he cared to admit.

He recovered quickly from this unexpected surprise, and immediately turned to Groves: "Lieutenant, I think we'll discuss later how to explain that you neglect your duties to have a chat with one of our prisoners. For the moment I would be very grateful to you, if you would return to your actual duties. Did I make myself clear?"

"Clear enough, sir," Groves replied: "I just thought it wouldn't reflect well on us if our most prized prisoner starved before we sent him to the gallows in Port Royal..."

"I understand! So that's why Governor Swann was wondering whereto his meal vanished... Hmm?"

Groves cleared his throat and Jack gave him a look that made him understand: 'So, even worse than I thought...'

Norrington took a deep breath, then motioned for Groves to get back to his post, and waited for the door to close behind the lieutenant.

As soon as Groves was gone, and as soon as the door closed behind him, Norrington got down to business: "It's no use beating around the bush any longer, Sparrow. You knew the pirates were cursed when you sent us after them, didn't you?"

Since there was no longer any need to deny it, Jack looked him straight in the face and shrugged, "Aye!"

"And you didn't even consider warning us for a second?"

"I'm a pirate, mate! The worst you've ever heard of. Forgot that? So why should I have peddled my knowledge? And why are you asking me and not Miss Swann? After all, it was your fiancee, the future Misses Commodore, who was kidnapped by Barbossa and his crew of miscreants! What do you think she witnessed aboard the 'Pearl' that full moon night? Lizzie knew what happens to the pirates and maybe she even tried to warn you and your men but you and your men - unlike me - have dismissed it as merely the idle chatter of a romantic young girl. It's possible, isn't it? Eh? So stop blaming me alone for not having been prepared for what finally awaited you! Savvy?"

Norrington had to pull himself together not to lose his temper: "Give me one reason, just one, why I shouldn't hang you from the mainmast right now!"

Jack smiled: "That's very simple, mate: hanging a man from the mainmast of your ship out of simple desire for revenge is not at all in keeping with your nature and what you represent! It wouldn't let you sleep peacefully for having broken the rules like that. But I have to say, your way of melting into self-pity has something of an excellent performance about it. How about this: Think about what you've accomplished, not what you haven't accomplished. The pirates are locked up in a cell down in the brig, Barbossa is dead, a pretty girl has promised to marry you, and you have the certainty of hanging me in a day or two. In short: You got everything you wanted, mate! Isn't that enough?"

Norrington stifled an angry snort, knowing full well that everything Jack had just told him was true, then he asked: "Because you just mentioned him: where is this Captain? This Barbossa?"

Jack shrugged: "Why ask me? Last time I saw him he was lying motionless among all the gold and silver on that very island, where you also left all your dead behind."

"He wasn't there when we searched the island for him! And you know more about it than you let me know, Sparrow!"

"You can have me tortured, mate! Perhaps you will then be able to get an answer to your question. But I doubt that..."

Norrington looked at him for a long moment. He wasn't sure if Jack really didn't know about the disappearance of Captain Barbossa's body, or if he was again keeping him in the dark about his knowledge. But it was pointless to think about it any longer, and so he finally asked with a completely different attitude and in a completely different tone of voice: "Is there anything else I need to know? Do you need something? A priest or a doctor? I see you have suffered a wound similar to that of Miss Swann and Mister Turner..."

Jack looked at the makeshift bandage wrapped around his hand and then looked back up at Norrington: "Do you really think a priest still has a chance to save my black pirate soul? The time I have left will hardly be enough for that." His answer sounded cynical but he wasn't here to exchange pleasantries with Norrington: "As for the doctor, thanks for the offer, mate, but I don't think the wound will heal before they put the rope around my neck."

Norrington just nodded: "In that case: Have a nice day, Mister Sparrow!"

He was about to turn on his heel and leave the cabin when Jack's voice stopped him once more: "Will you spare Miss Swann the spectacle, or will you insist that she watch the pirate she dreamed of as a child and read tales about night after night before her sleep being hanged before her eyes? "

"Miss Swann is the daughter of the Governor of Port Royal and she has chosen to accept the proposal of an officer in the Royal Navy. So I assume she is capable of attending an execution."

"And you? Will you still be able to look your fiancee in the eye afterwards?"

"Mr. Sparrow, as you already know, Lord Beckett has ordered any garrison to hand you over to him should you be caught. I have already told you once that I have no intention of obeying this order. You have confided in me what has transpired between you and Lord Beckett, and I have decided that I will not allow myself to be used as a tool in his personal vendetta. Whether I shall be able to look Miss Swann in the eye after your execution, or whether I shall be able to look at myself in the mirror afterwards, will depend very much on how your execution goes!"

With that he left the cabin and Jack was left alone - thoughtful and confused. At some point he closed his eyes and a smile appeared on his lips:

He had always known that he would not die on the gallows...

Chapter Text

1739 - Bring Me That Horizon

"Captain Sparrow... the 'Black Pearl' is yours."

The moment Anamaria draped his cloak around his shoulders and stepped aside, letting him take the wheel, felt almost unreal.

Relief at finally being back aboard his own ship was mixed with genuine gratitude as he looked at the faces of his crew in turn, led by Gibbs, Cotton, Marty and the beautiful smuggler. Both intensified when his mute helmsman handed his tricorn over to him with shining eyes, which he had found in the captain's cabin, and he said in a low voice as he took it: "Thank you!"

He almost hesitated to put his hat on, but the expectant looks of his crew dispelled any doubt as soon as it arose, and it felt good and right to feel it on his head again.

Wholly himself and finally the rightful captain of the "Black Pearl" again, he turned to Gibbs and asked in a mock reproachful tone: "Mister Gibbs! I was somehow convinced that I had told you to keep to the code. Is there any plausible reason or credible excuse for you cruising off Port Royal Bay instead?"

"You know," Gibbs looked at him with a conspiratorial grin, "at first we intended to follow your order, but after much deliberation and giving it a couple of thoughts we've figured that the Code isn't so much some written law as it is more or less guidelines..."

"Guidelines...? I see! Well then, let's get out of here. We'll have a day's head start before our good Commodore will get on our heels, but I think the more distance we put between him and us the better!"

"Aye, Captain!"

For a split second time seemed to stand still and all eyes were on him as he reached out to take the helm.

Jack closed his eyes and he felt his fingers begin to tremble as they glided so lovingly over the smooth polished wood, as if caressing the delicate skin and soft curves of a beautiful woman. Again the inexplicable feeling of warmth flowed through him, when the wheel finally lay firmly in his hand - and again he felt the pulsation, the heartbeat of his ship...

He blinked, opened his eyes, and found his crew still staring at him expectantly: They all waited for his commands, and so he cleared his throat, straightened his shoulders, and gave them his orders: "On deck, you scabrous dogs...! Hands to braces...! Let go and haul to run free...!"

Anything that had legs and was able to walk, dashed asunder and went to work, and with one last look at Port Royal, the fort, and the garrison, Jack finally veered the "Pearl" into the wind - and there was more to the smile that appeared upon his lips within this moment than anyone would be able to guess.

"You will come across antagonists, who will take you by surprise and who will take you to the edge of everything you're able to bear. The same, you will find friendship in places where you won't expect it."

'Patrick, my friend,' he thought: 'if only I could tell you how grateful I am for anything you taught me. This adventure proved true almost everything you once told me and maybe more. I just wished, I'd have been able to reclaim more than just this wonderful vessel..."

A light breeze waved over deck, tugged at his hair and finally caressed his cheeks like cupping its gentle hands around them.

"Close your eyes," the wind in the sails whispered, and when he, slowly and hesitantly, followed this silent command, he looked into a pair of shining grey eyes scanning his face lovingly. Black curls were dancing with the wind, and slender fingers brushed over his brow and traced the fine lines of his face before a pair of soft lips claimed his with a passionate kiss...

"Caith..."

He was about to surrender completely to the feeling of her touch and kiss, which he had missed for so long, when a voice tore him out of this moment of tenderness and broke through the delicate network of closeness and memory: "Cap'n!"

Gibbs climbed the steps to the helm. A hint of confusion showed on his face as he thoughtfully scratched his head and asked: "Cap'n, while I and the crew were doing as you ordered, we were wondering about one thing..."

Jack eyed his friend and first mate curiously, if a little displeased at having so rudely roused him from his yearning and so beautiful daydream: "What would that be?"

"Well, you said we have a day's head start before Norrington would make the 'Dauntless' ready to follow us. How so? I would think someone so eager to serve king, crown, and country would immediately go in pursuit of an infamous pirate like you." Jack smiled but said nothing and Gibbs added: "You know more about this than you let us know, right?"

"Yes mate, I know more about this than I'm letting you know..."

In fact, Jack knew more about this mysterious 'one day's head start' that the "Pearl" would have over the "Dauntless" than he had revealed to his crew, but when he thought about it, he was still a little confused himself about what had been going on in the Port Royal garrison over the bygone days.

After their return to town, he got initially locked in his cell, again - out of reach of any keys, wolfhounds, or other pirates. They wanted to make sure he wouldn't escape the gallows again moments before his scheduled execution, and so there were as many guards in all the corridors as there were a few days before, when this adventure had started.

Even against his explicit wish, Norrington had sent a doctor to his cell to look at the cut on his palm, and he had no reason to complain about the other treatment and meals he received either.

Things started to get weird the night before his execution - when Lieutenant Groves visited him in his cell, accompanied by a monk, under whose hood pulled low over his face he had soon been able to make out the youthful face of Will Turner.

Before he could even ask the two unexpected visitors a question, Groves gestured for him to shut up and listen: "For heaven's sake, Captain, do us all a favor and let Turner and the rest of us make the plans for once. Sit down, listen to what 'Brother William' has to tell you, and don't let it be known that he isn't who he says he is!"

And Will had explained some things to him that didn't make an iota of sense at the time - but if that was the way Bill's son would end up a pirate after all... well then...

The two unlikely conspirators who sat with him in his cell that night, had explained to him how they wanted to save him from the gallows, how they had managed to win over Elizabeth Swann and also the two overzealous soldiers, Mullroy and Murtogg, to their plan, and how they had made sure that a ship would take him aboard as soon as they would have freed him.

What they had not told him was which ship it would be going to fish him out of the sea, and how they had managed to find a crew daring and willing enough to take that risk.

And then Groves had said the one sentence that left him speechless more than any other he had heard that night: "James will give you a day's head start, Captain! I think you will understand why he can't and won't tell you this himself, and why he can only grant you one day, so use that day wisely. In order not to endanger him unnecessarily, we didn't let Governor Swann in on our plans, but I think Miss Elizabeth and Mister Turner will find a way of explaining all this gently to the good man when it is over."

Will had nodded and added: "Whatever you said to Norrington, he came to me that very same night aboard the 'Dauntless' and told me straight to the point that he knew I had a plan to rescue you - and that he would not stand in the way of it. Nor in the way of my desire to marry Elizabeth in his stead. What he asked of me was only one thing: That anything we would plan for your escape should be so planned that in the end no one would lose face in front of the assembled garrison."

He had been speechless in the truest sense of the word. About everything Will and Groves told him and about how Patrick Swallow had predicted this to him so many years ago:

'One day you will find friendship where you least expect it...'

And so the next morning he had stood under the noose on the gallows, blinked in the sun, and listened to the endless litany that was the reading of his 'Sins and Crimes' and which, to everyone's astonishment, did not include one thing: Murder:

'Jack Sparrow! Be it known that you have been charged, tried and convicted for your wilful commission of crimes against the crown. Said crimes being numerous in quantity and sinister in nature. The most aggrieves of which to be cited herewith: Piracy. Smuggling. Impersonating a person of the Spanish Royal Navy. Impersonating a cleric of the Church of England. Sailing under false colours. Arson. Kidnapping. Looting. Poaching. Pilfering. Depravity. Degradation. And general lawlessness. And for these crimes, you have been sentenced on this day to be hung by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul...'

Then he had spotted Cotton's parrot high above the heads of Mullroy and Murtogg, and the rest was - once again - legend...

Gibbs, now sure he wouldn't get anything more out of Jack about their one-day head start, finally cleared his throat and asked: "Now that we're back at sea, and now that you've finally got your 'Pearl' back - do we have a heading there too?"

Jack grinned: "First of all, out to sea. We will then head for Patrick's Island to bring the 'Pearl' ashore for a thorough overhaul and repair, and to take supplies and fresh water aboard. When that's done, we'll search for van Dijk and his 'Stella'. After all, I still owe Anamaria a ship, and if I give her both the 'Stella' and her captain, I should be safe from her slaps in future - and the thing with the dinghy will then finally be forgotten either, I hope."

"You think you'll find the Dutchman on that island?"

"There I was at the time hired by him. The best place for me to start looking for him."

"And afterwards?"

"Afterwards, Mister Gibbs, we shall set sail for Madagascar. I'm curious about the coast captains and their legendary fortress. I'm excited to find out more about that Roc Brasiliano. And I really need to speak to 'Spitfire'."

"That fiery redhead?"

"Exactly that fiery redhead! Maybe she can give me some answers to some questions I can't find the answers to on my own..."

"Well then! Madagascar, sir!"

"Aye, Mister Gibbs, Madagascar!"

Jack looked after Joshamee Gibbs as he went back to the deck giving the crew his orders, then glanced out at the sea and smiled.

'I'll find a way to bring you back, love! Just hold on a little longer,' he thought, before he whispered longingly: "I love you, Caithleen!"

That said, he picked up his compass, flipped it open, and let its needle follow his heart's desire, before he, with his gaze fixed at a vague spot somewhere in front of his inner eye, ran his hand over the wheel:

"And now... Bring me that horizon..."

Chapter Text

Epilogue: 1739 - The Dutchman

The "Black Pearl" and her crew reached the small island, which Jack only noted as 'Patrick's Island' in his nautical charts, for years, without a single unpleasant encounter during their crossing.

James Norrington had indeed kept the promise he had made through Will Turner and Theodore Groves to give Jack a day's head start, and it seemed that one day was enough to keep the "Dauntless" at bay long enough to reach the small island, which was mostly headed for by those merchants who appreciated the conveniences of a free, independent port - a result of more and more English warships controlling the public trade routes, and blocking most of the well-known trading ports.

Striking bargains at a small port like the one on 'Patrick's Island' also came with lots of other vantages: The proceeds of the trades might not turn out to be as enormous as they usually were in the great trading ports, but in return the merchant sailors saved large sums of money, which they otherwise would have to spend on taxes. In addition, they also had the choice between countless smaller trading companies, and were not forced to accept the sometimes outrageously low offers of the big trading companies such as the East India Trading Company or the French West India Company.

Unaffected and away from the harbour and the hustle and bustle around its trading houses, taverns and markets, the "Pearl" lay on dry land in a well-protected bay, and the crew had begun with the necessary repairs, and with overhauling her thoroughly from bow to stern, and from her keel to her tallest mast.

Before their next adventure, which would lead them into the dangerous waters surrounding Madagascar's pirate stronghold, Jack wanted to be sure his ship was in the best possible condition. Especially as from what he'd heard about the coast captains and their well-armed fortress, it wouldn't be going to become an all too safe venture. So, not only he but also his crew and his "Pearl" would be well prepared - that he had promised himself the moment he decided to seek out Prudence Stevens in her hideout.

But before it was time to think about leaving and before they could set sail for the African coast, they still had a lot of sweaty work ahead of them and added to this was, that time was running out on him: If they wanted to leave before the approaching hurricane season, they had to hurry.

The same applied to his wish to find out something about the whereabouts of van Dijk and his "Stella Maris":

If he wanted to find the zealous Dutchman before they left, it was all about asking the right people the right questions.

In addition to his concern for the upcoming hurricanes, and the question of where to begin his research on van Dijk, however, Jack had another problem. One no member of his crew knew anything about, and one which he himself had successfully ignored for a long time against his better judgment:

The grace period, the thirteen years Davy Jones had given him to settle his scores with Beckett and Mercer, was drawing to a close and he was faced with the question whether or not he was actually willing to serve aboard the "Flying Dutchman" for a hundred years or to become forever a prisoner of that white desert from which the eerie captain had sent him back to life...

Jack didn't openly admit it but neither the one nor the other alternative seemed worth striving for in any way - but how to avoid it?

Was there a way out of this dilemma, and if so, which one...?

To escape these unkind thoughts for the moment, he finally decided to let Gibbs oversee the mendings to the "Pearl" while he himself went in search of van Dijk at the harbour and in town. But neither at the port, nor in the town's taverns or brothels, could anyone answer even the slightest question Jack put to the innkeepers, barmaids and harlots about van Dijk and his ship.

It almost seemed as if he had disappeared from the face of the earth, despite the fact that less than a month ago Gibbs had assured him that the Dutchman had sailed around the Caribbean on private business, and when it became obvious that van Dijk hadn't even turned up at the cosy little hostelry where he would usually stay if he wasn't at sea, Jack decided to put the search on hold for now.

Something else had begun to magically attract him, something he longed for as much as one dying of thirst would long for water:

The hidden cove on the other side of the island, and with it the sleepy village with its beautiful half-timbered houses, the sheer cliffs and narrow passage protecting the bay, and the little cottage high above the sea with its whitewashed walls and its enchanted garden...

The hidden bay had lost none of its beauty and the tranquillity it radiated, and Jack knew he still loved this place deeply.

He had loved it from that moment on, when Patrick Swallow and Bill Turner had brought him here, when Rosalind Stevens had offered him to sail for her aboard the Eagle's Wing, and when he had first looked into the grey eyes of the girl who had taken him by storm.

He was well aware that he would have but a few days to spend in his cottage high on the cliffs, before he had to return to his ship and crew, but he wanted to spend the time he had searching the books Patrick had left him for answers to some of his questions.

If there were clues to what he was looking for, he would find them up here - among all the notes, diaries and writings, which he kept everywhere in the house, carefully stowed away in boxes and chests.

Jack's enthusiasm and optimism about most probably being able to find what he hoped to find, however, quickly gave way to the feeling that something was not at all as it was supposed to be.

The thin plume of smoke he saw rising from the chimney of his house as he reached the high ground shouldn't have been there, and from one moment to the next his joyful anticipation of being home turned to the deepest distrust.

And it wasn't just the smoke rising from the chimney!

Shutters and windows were also open, and it seemed as if someone had taken advantage of his long absence, to breathe new life into the apparently vacant pretty cottage.

Jack didn't like the thought of it and he had no intention of having his home stolen, nor the memories that bound him to it - as they were all he had left of the quiet life he'd once led up here together with Pat, Rose and Caithleen.

No one could be seen or heard around, and the only sound he was able to perceive at that moment, was the constant woosh of the sea as the waves broke on the cliffs.

Jack didn't like the idea that someone might have been here, and after taking a cautious look through the window without finding anyone in the house, he decided to wait inside for the mysterious stranger who had dared enter his home without first making sure that its rightful owner would in fact never return.

And so, hour after hour, he waited for the insolent intruder to appear, feet on the table, pistol at the ready, eyes wary on the door, but, it wasn't until nightfall that footsteps approached the little cottage, clearly coming from the direction of the path that led down to the bay and Jack blinked into the darkness - wide awake and willing to shoot first and then ask questions should the need arise.

The sound of the approaching footsteps stopped, and the unwelcome nightly visitor seemed to consider whether he should take the risk of entering or not.

It was Jack who made the decision for the stranger. He cocked the pistol, aimed the barrel at that spot in the door where he thought the man's head was, and said in an icy tone, no one who knew him would have believed him capable of: "Regardless of whether you decide to enter or not, rest assured I will not miss you, mate! The choice is yours, but I warn you, I'm in no mood to ask or answer questions!"

Whoever the man was standing in front of the cottage, he hesitated for a moment longer before replying, surprisingly calm and just as composed: "Jack Sparrow! I should have known that you would show up here one day! Unexpectedly, out of nowhere and without any warning. But, tell me lad, is this your idea of how to greet a good old friend who hasn't been seen in years? Pistol at the ready?"

"Only if those old friends sneak into my house secretly, without leaving me even the smallest hint or note that they snuck into my house secretly," Jack replied a smile within his words as he lowered the pistol and locked it: "Savvy?"

The man's voice and accent had given away who it was waiting in front of his door at this late hour, and he knew he would and could trust this supposed stranger blindly - at any time. He was just surprised to find him up here right now, at this special point in time: "Come in, van Dijk! I think, I will wait with shooting you until you'll have explained to me why you're sneaking around up here, why you're in the know about where to look for me, and why and how you know of the hidden bay and the passage protecting it."

It was indeed the Dutchman who now entered - with sparkling eyes and a big grin on his face: "You have no idea how glad I am to see you again, lad! It's been far too long!"

And before Jack knew it the older man had already pulled him into a warm hug.

Jack and van Dijk spent the night telling each other about the adventures they had over the bygone months and years, and while the passing hours seemed like moments to them, and as they downed bottle after bottle of rum, they found that in fact more time had passed since their last meeting than they had thought possible.

The fact that they had left each other regular messages with the innkeepers at "The Pirate's Lass" on Tortuga had mercifully belied the fact that it had actually been seven years since Jack had left the "Stella" and Gibbs had taken his place aboard.

The years had indeed flown by.

But the Dutchman's curiosity was far from satisfied, and so they both ignored the fact that outside the first harbingers of the rising sun were already announcing the new day: "I have heard from a reliable source that you have finally been able to recapture your ship?"

"The 'Pearl'? Yes, I've finally managed to settle this first of my many outstanding scores. Not even a month ago. Gibbs is currently overseeing the final mendings before we'll set sail for Madagascar."

Van Dijk pricked up his ears: "Madagascar? Why Madagascar? Has chatty Gibbs been unable to keep his mouth shut again?"

Jack laughed: "You could say that. As so often, he babbled and you know I have a good sense for where a good story and a new adventure could be found."

"Did he also tell you about Roc Brasiliano and the fortress, wherein the coast captains are holed up?"

"At least he told me his version of the fortress and the defences Brasiliano and his band of pirates built there. What he didn't know when he told me all this is that I know the daughter of the man who sketched the plans for said defences - Prudence Stevens!"

"So you're telling me you know 'Spitfire' Stevens?"

"Yep!"

Van Dijk shook his head, unable to hide his grin: "Say, my lad, is there a harbour somewhere around the seas of this world where you don't know a girl? I mean, actually, it's none of my business, is it? You're a handsome rascal, after all. Charming and clever at that. But this time you should heed my warning, Jack. If you plan to win over Miss 'Spitfire', better prepare yourself that Brasiliano might get in your way. He's got a thing for the hot-headed beauty, and I'm sure he won't stand by and see a bright lad like you snatch that prize from under his nose."

Jack looked at the Dutchman for a while, like beholding a man who might possibly have had a glass of rum too much, and then remarked with a wide grin: "What makes you think I intend to court 'Spitfire', van Dijk?"

"Oh, come on Jack! A beautiful woman like her? I would think not even you are able to resist such charms."

"Van Dijk, how about I tell you that I don't intend to seduce beautiful Prue? After all, she's more or less part of the family. That wouldn't be proper, right?"

"Family you say? How's that?"

"Let's just say I'm madly in love with Prue's cute little cousin and I'd be a fool if I'd risk something that means so much to me. No, van Dijk, I have other reasons for my business in Madagascar and Prue might be able to help me with that. But," Jack watched the Dutchman attentively for a while: "What about you? Having any new plans now as you've obviously done all your private business to your satisfaction?"

"No plans at all," van Dijk replied, stroking his chin thoughtfully, as if considering something.

"Well, how about this: Fancy following a bonny young lad and his chatty first mate on some harebrained adventures with an unassured outcome?"

"I have no lack of desire for some harebrained adventures, my lad. Actually, I'm dying of curiosity to finally find out if your 'Pearl' really is such an extraordinary ship as you have described to me. But what would become of my 'Stella' for the time...?"

"How about leaving your 'Stella' to Anamaria. At least until we get back? She wants to leave my crew to go minding some of her own business again, if we can call it that." Jack looked frankly at the Dutchman's face as he went on: "I know you've got an eye on her, van Dijk, and I would have saved myself a slap in two if I had told her something sooner that you're back so I'm assuming she's got an eye on you too, my friend..."

Van Dijk didn't take long to consider this idea: "Anamaria, you say? Sounds like a good plan!"

"Your 'Stella' will be in good hands with her. Oh, and besides promising her a ship I also promised her the captain of that ship on top..."

Jack grinned as he saw van Dijk blush from ear to ear...