Disclaimer: Captain Isako and I own nothing of Pirates, save for the characters we've come up with. Please don't sue us or kill us in our sleep.

Author's Note: We hope you like it.

Prologue: Part One

The sun kissed the waves as it began to sink beneath the horizon line and the clouds around it were shot with garish hues of pink and purple. The sea below was dark and reflected the sun's orange glow on its calm surface. The first faint glimmer of a blanket of silver stars could be seen in the twilight. Nathaniel Teague breathed deep the smell of the ocean air as it floated past on the chilly evening breeze. He made his way out to the dock where his dinghy was tied, his boots clunking noisily on the planks underfoot and the shining ornaments in his dreadlocked hair jingling slightly. As he was about to lower himself into the tiny vessel tied to the end of the dock, he paused.

"What're you doin', boy?" he grunted. He was neither angry nor amused. His young son, Jack, was sitting in the bottom of the boat, his arms wrapped around his knees as he sheltered himself from the cold.

"I want to go with you," Jack replied.

"Out of the boat, Jackie," Nathaniel ordered, jerking his thumb toward the dock behind him.

"Please take me with you?" Jack pleaded pathetically.

"Enough of that," the weathered old pirate told his son. "Get out of there before I drag you out by your scalp." The boy obeyed and scrambled out of the dinghy and back onto the dock. "There's a good lad. It ain't like you to not mind me."

"Why can't I come?" Jack asked.

"Pirate's life is no life for you," Nathaniel told him sternly. "Much too dangerous and I can't do right by you as your father if I let you get hurt so young."

"When will you be back?" the young boy asked, nearly in tears.

"I don't rightly know. The wind's blowin' me back to sea, Jack, I can't ignore it. Maybe you'll understand one day," Teague said vaguely.

"What about mum?"

"You'll have to look after her. She hasn't been right for a while, you know, and I worry about her. You're the man of the house for a little while. Think you can own up to the responsibility?" Nathaniel asked.

"Yes, sir…," Jack muttered, wiping his moist eyes with his sleeve.

"There's a good lad," Nathaniel said with a slow smile, clapping his boy on the shoulder. Suddenly he remembered something. Out of his jacket pocket he produced a long red cloth with a short string of beads sewed to it. "Almost forgot about the present I was gonna give to you."

"A present?" Jack asked, his face lighting up.

"Aye. You see this little thing here?" Teague said as he bent down on one knee, showing Jack the string of beads. On the end of it was a little silver coin. "D'you know what this is?" Jack shook his head. "This is one of the nine pieces of eight. Each Pirate Lord of the Brethren Court has a piece of eight and this one's mine. It's very important to me, and you have to promise me you won't lose it."

"I won't," Jack said, mesmerized by the shiny coin. Nathaniel tied the bandana around Jack's head so that the string of beads hung over his right eye.

"You wear this till I come back for it. Never take this cloth off yer head, don't let anyone too near it so's they might steal it. Savvy?"

"Savvy," Jack agreed.

"Good boy," Nathaniel said. He clamored into the dinghy and took up the oars. "Don't you cry for me, Jack. I'll be back soon enough."

"Alright," Jack sniffled as his father rowed away.

"Take good care of yer mother." And with that, Captain Nathaniel Teague rowed away towards a distant shore that beckoned to him in a tongue that only men like himself could understand, leaving Jack miserable and lamenting on the beach behind him.


"Mum!" cried a very excited Jack eight months later as he tore through the house to find his mother. "Mum, mum, mum!!"

"Wha's all the yelling about?" Rachel Teague muttered grumpily as she woke from a shallow sleep in her rocking chair. She had tied her brown hair into a bun days ago and it was falling out all over the place. Her clothes had not been changed in some time and the smell of her cheap perfume mingled sickeningly with the pungent aroma of stale rum. There were great bags under her eyes and the black makeup she used on her lashes was smeared, some of it dried on her cheeks from crying herself to sleep. She was an absolute mess to behold but Jack still found her very beautiful.

"Mrs. Marshall is having the baby! Come see!" Jack pleaded, pulling at his mother's skirts.

"I'd rather not, Jackie, births are terribly…messy," she said, her speech slurred as she groped for the bottle of rum next to the chair. "Why don't you go out on the dock and keep an eye out for your father, eh?" Jack's heart sank as Rachel tipped her head back and drained the rest of the contents of the bottle. His mother asked him about once a day to go and look for his father and she had been at it since Nathaniel left. Deep down, Jack was all too aware that his mother's behavior could not be construed as normal, but he loved her and he refused to admit it to himself or anybody else.

"Go on, then, and tell me straight away when he gets back," said Rachel, making a shooing gesture before sinking back down into the rocking chair and falling back asleep. Jack turned on his heel and ran out of the house and up the dirt road to the Marshall's house, not wanting to confront the fact that his mother was too drunk to talk to him again.

"Bobby!" Jack shouted as he burst through the Marshall's front door.

"Shush, boy!" snapped Robert Marshal in a fatherly way. "It's almost time and I don't want Lily to be under no stress. Come now, better get in there before we miss it."

"Where's Bobby?" Jack asked.

"In the room with his mother. Come with me, son," Robert said, steering Jack into the master bedroom. On the shoddy four posted bed lay an ailing woman, Lily Marshall, on her back, her stomach fat with pregnancy. Holding her hand very tightly was her son and Jack's best friend, Bobby. A midwife with a large basin brimming with water knelt near Lilly's feet, soaking several washcloths in the basin. The curtains were drawn shut and the lamps were turned down low, throwing a soft yellow glow on their surroundings.

"Oh! Lord in Heaven, it's coming, Mary!" Lily cried, her voice strained with pain. Her breathing was labored and beads of sweat dripped down her brow.

"Alright, Mrs. Marshall, take deep breaths like we talked about…that's it. Now if you feel ready, give a good push," Mary the midwife said as she threw the hem of Lily's dress over her bent knees. Jack craned his neck to see what was happening, but between Mary's crouching figure and Robert's looming one, he couldn't see a thing. Lily gave a scream of pain that caused Jack and Bobby to jump. Her groans and cries carried on for what seemed like forever. Jack felt an odd mixture of awe and alarm as Mrs. Marshall gave one final shout and the midwife stood, in her arms a very messy, bawling baby. She wiped the baby's scrunched up face clean with a wet washcloth and Mr. Marshall cut the umbilical chord. The midwife wrapped the newborn in a soft cloth and handed it to its mother, who was looking extremely exhausted, but relieved. She surveyed the new baby with loving eyes.

"It's a girl," Lily told them as the midwife cleaned her of blood.

"What's her name?" Jack asked intently.

"Carolyn. For her grandmother," Lily replied. "Say hello to your sister Carolyn, Bobby."

"Hi, baby," Bobby said as he reached out to touch her. Carolyn curled her tiny fingers around Bobby's index finger, causing him to smile weakly. Jack could tell that Bobby was very fond of her already. Even though the baby was yowling and her face was screwed up, Jack thought she was one of the prettiest things he ever saw.


The sun shone bright and hot on a typical day in the Caribbean. There wasn't a cloud in the sky over the clear blue water and the streets were alive with merchants and eager shoppers. Jack and Bobby, now nine years old and more mischievous than most boys their age, tore through the morning market crowd. Their laughter and shouts could be heard by almost the entire market. Trailing in an absolute rage was Carolyn, now five years old and so full of sass and spunk that most considered her a holy terror. The boys had stolen her most prized possession, a teddy bear given to her by her Grandpa, and she was determined to get it back from them.

"Jack, Bobby! Gimme back my teddy bear, you..." A string of very colorful curses issued from the child's mouth that was so vulgar that bystanders were appalled to hear such language out of such a small girl.

"You'll have to catch us first!" Jack called over his shoulder, brandishing the worn bear at her. With an amazing burst of speed, Carolyn caught up to the boys and tackled Jack, throwing all 55 pounds at him as hard as possible. Jack wasn't expecting this and was knocked off his feet, the wind escaping his lungs as his chest collided with the dirt road. Carolyn sat on the small of his back and yanked the bear out of his clutches.

"Alright…you win…now get off," Jack wheezed. Instead, she snatched the ends of Jack's red bandana and gave them a good yank.

"Giddy up! You're my horsy now," Carolyn informed him.

"Carolyn, I may be a lot of things, but I'm no one's horsy," Jack told her.

"Giddy up!" she cried, kicking him sharply in the sides with her heels.

"Mum said to stop kicking people, Carolyn!" Bobby scolded her.

"Mum's not here right now," Carolyn reminded him. Jack reluctantly climbed to his feet, the five year old clinging to his back. He grabbed hold of her tiny legs and carried her down the street as they continued back towards the Marshall's home.

"Oy, what's that?" Bobby asked. A fairly large ship was tied up at the dock, men coming down the gang plank with crates, boxes and furniture. The three children watched as the furniture was carried into the once empty house two doors down from Carolyn and Bobby.

"Someone's moving in," Carolyn observed.

"Let's investigate," Bobby suggested. They approached with both curiosity and caution, Carolyn still clinging roughly to Jack's head. The front door was open and they peered inside. A woman with a long sandy blonde braid that was heavily streaked with gray swept out of the house, nearly knocking them over.

"Oh!" she cried with alarm, holding a hand over her racing heart. "I didn't even see yeh there!" Her accent was distinctly Scottish and it was apparent that the family that was moving in had just made the crossing from England. "Who might you three be? The welcome wagon, perhaps?"

"Um, well, I'm Bobby, this is my friend Jack, and that's my sister, Carolyn," Bobby explained. "We're your neighbors."

"Ach! How sweet of yeh to come down an' see us, then! I'm Jean Yeisley, but I suppose that's Mrs. Yeisley to you, isn't it? Maybe yeh can get some o' my kids out o' my hair for half a minute. Thomas! Michael! Stuart! Olivia!" she shouted into the house. "Come out an' meet the neighbors!" Four children came stampeding out of the house. The three boys seemed close in age, perhaps only a year or so apart, the oldest looking around fourteen. The girl, however, was much younger and looked a little on the runty side. Her frame was slight and her sandy blonde hair matched her mother's.

"The oldest there is Thomas, this one's Michael and this is Stuart. Fourteen, twelve and eleven in that order and little Olivia is five next week, aren't you?"

"Yes, it's my birthday on April 30th!" Olivia announced enthusiastically.

"We've all got birthdays, what makes yours so special?" Carolyn sneered from Jack's back.

"Carolyn!" Bobby hissed at her. Then he turned to the mother of the four children. "Sorry. She's…well, whatever she's thinking usually comes out. Sorry…"

"It's alright, isn't it, Olivia?" she said, giving her forlorn daughter an affectionate pat on the head. Olivia did not reply, but she did look quite on the verge of tears. "Why don't yeh go play while I get the house set up?"

"Where are we going?" the oldest boy, Thomas asked as Bobby and Jack led the way down to the water.

"To the beach," Jack replied as he tried to jerk his head out of Carolyn's grasp, but she wouldn't budge.

"What's at the beach?" Stuart asked, looking very skeptical indeed.

"All kinds of stuff," Jack said.

"Hey, where's your dad?" asked Carolyn to the four children.

"Daddy works on a fishing boat," Olivia said. She had gotten over the initial shock of Carolyn's blunt nature and was now as chipper as she was when she came to the door.

"He's coming later when the fishing season is over up north," Thomas explained.

"Jack's dad's out on a boat, isn't he, Jack?" Carolyn said.

"Is 'e a fisherman?" Michael asked.

"He's a pirate!" Carolyn announced loudly. Jack's cheeks turned a little pink, but he tried his best to shrug it off. He didn't want Bobby or the three older boys to make fun of him for being embarrassed. Everyone was content with letting the subject lie, but Carolyn grew impatient of Jack's silence.

"He's a pirate, isn't he, Jack?" she prompted.

"Something like that…," Jack muttered with a noncommittal shrug. An awkward silence ensued and Bobby decided to change the subject.

"Have you lot ever been swimming?" Bobby asked.

"Mommy told us we're not allowed because there's nasty fish in th' water," Olivia said cautiously as they trooped down the sandy beach.

"Do you do everything mommy says?" Carolyn scoffed. Olivia looked put out again, but Carolyn ignored her. She simply dropped down off of Jack's back and ran into the water without even removing her shoes. Bobby and Jack followed suit, and so did the three boys. Olivia sat down in the sand with a huff and refused to disobey her mother.