'Pirates of the Caribbean' belongs to Disney.

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"Desinit in piscem mulier formosa superne," Captain Sparrow commented, as he playfully sketched a mermaid onto a blank space on the Empress' navigational map.

Across the chart table from him, Captain Turner made a face. It had recently come to light that Jack had somewhat better command of Latin than she did. And that he wasn't above showing it off.

"You're in a merry mood today, Mr. Sparrow."

"An' why shouldn't I be? This cape is situated just a bit further north." Sparrow dipped his quill and set about correcting that fallacy on the chart. "The swag from me last two raids was substantial, as I may have mentioned."

"You have."

"In addition, I greatly enjoyed my recent conversation with young Master William."

Liz did smile at that. "It's amazing how fast he's picking up words these days! He even seems able to keep track of which are English and which are Cantonese."

"These shoals are subject to shifting- you should give 'em a wider berth than is indicated." Jack proceeded to add a dotted line to the chart. "Tis a very fine thing, to have mastery of more'en one language. Opens all kinds of possibilities." He glanced up. "You should see the lad gets a bit of Latin under his belt, too. Quidquid latine dictum sit altum viditur. Very useful fer gainin' access to the bastions of the upper crust."

"Or for irritating your less-Latin-proficient friends."

The pirate's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Vah! Denuone Latine loquebar? Me ineptum. Interdum modo elabitur."

"Enough, Jack." Even amidst her annoyance, Liz considered that this discussion might give her a chance to establish something she'd long suspected about Jack Sparrow. "But you're right; I should teach Willy at least some of that language when he's old enough. What age did you start learning it?"

Sparrow's stare grew distant for a moment. "I was eight. That was the year me Da finally started supplyin' sufficient funds to make sure I got proper schooling. It were the one family tradition he considered worth pass..."

Jack did something virtually unprecedented; he cut himself off in mid-word, his eyes starting. "... worth, passin' down ta me," he haltingly finished, glancing uneasily at Liz. "I should not have said that."

She spoke reassuringly. "You haven't really given anything away, Jack. I've long assumed, from your command of language alone, that you're no plebian." Jack looked around, as if fearful they'd been overheard. Liz leaned across the tabletop. "If I promise to keep it between us, could you at least confirm whether I'm right?" she coaxed.

Jack twitched the quill nervously. "Why do you need to know? My ancestry's never a matter of concern to you before."

"And it isn't now. Nothing you could tell me about it would change my view of you, Jack Sparrow. It just it seems... not quite normal, that we've been declared friends for most of two years, yet I know no more about your background than I did at the start." With a tilt of the head, she added, "I can't believe this is something you're ashamed of."

Jack deliberately set the quill down, acknowledging he was going to have to address this issue. "Theer's things other than shame that can seal a man's lips, Izzie."

"Then what's sealing yours?"

"A stern request from my Da. He's a disowned younger son, an' still bears a fierce grudge over it. So he doesn't care to have his lineage known, it bein' his earnest wish to never be tracked down by any o' his blood kin. They certainly have resources ta do so should they ever establish his identity."

"So he's from a powerful family? English, I'd assume, from his..." Liz's jaw dropped, as an incredible possibility occurred to her. "You don't mean...?"

"Not the current residents of St. James' Palace, if that's what yer about to inquire. But only a couple notches below. As highborn as you can be an' still have the option of vanishing completely." Jack made a deprecating gesture. "Edward Jonathan Teague originally bore a different surname- one known to you. You can't have avoided hearing it, growin' up anywhere in the British Isles."

Liz frowned as she pondered this. "That name didn't happen to be Windsor, did it?"

Jack blinked. "Why do you ask?"

"That was my mother's maiden name."

"Oh. No, that's not it."

Liz's eyes narrowed. "Jack, are you telling me the truth?"

The Captain somberly raised his palm. "My Liege, I swear to you, on pain of death, that Windsor was not me Da's original surname." Lowering his hand, he continued, "I've no reason to deceive you about it, Lizzie. I'd be more'en happy to discover you were my third cousin twice removed, or whatever it would be. But the fact is, I've no reason to believe we're closer 'en any two random descendants of British nobility. Please trust me on this."

Elizabeth sagged. With disappointment? "Well, you can't blame me for wondering- you did delay answering until you knew my motive for asking."

"Force of habit, Luv. Throughout my life, I've had to be wary of any inquiries pertainin' to my ancestry." He glanced about again. "There's another reason to keep this stowed. I am given to understand; in addition to me relatives, certain vindictive parties would very much like to get hold of Teague, and/ or meself, should it ever come to light whose scions we are. The Keeper of the Code is at lesser risk, bein' ensconced in Shipwreck Cove. But for me, who prefers a more mobile lifestyle..." He spread his hands. "'Tis safer not to advertise. The price on me head is tempting enough already."

"I see." Captain Turner bit her lip, wondering just how much of this she ought to believe. "Have you ever considered someday making contact- perhaps clandestinely- with your ancestral family?"

Jack looked sour. "Can't say I ever have."

"Qualis pater, talis filius," Liz observed, with just a trace of a smirk.

"In regard to this particular matter, yes." Jack folded his arms, looking stern. "Teague and I are agreed; bein' disinherited was a penalty grossly disproportionate to his offense."

"Taking up piracy?"

"That happened later. He started as a privateer captain- an acceptable profession fer a youngest son ta pursue." Jack looked at her sideways, as though he were about to reveal something incriminating. "Elizabeth, I'll need your promise not to repeat any of this, before I say more."

"You have my word on that, Captain Sparrow."

He bent close to the table and spoke low. "My father's unpardonable sin was loving a 'woman of colour'. Not in a forgivable doxy-master relationship, either. He had the audacity to marry her, in a public ceremony no less. Even let her give birth aboard his own ship, thus acknowledging her child was his own. Makin' no effort at all to conceal how he'd contaminated his family's oh-so-pure bloodline. That's what really brought their wrath down on 'im."

Of the several jolts Liz had received through the course of their conversation, this was the harshest. For long seconds all she could do was stare at Jack's expressive chocolate eyes, his magnificent dark mane, his golden-brown complexion. How could anybody regard such beautiful features as 'contaminants'?

"I trust you understand now, why I'd receive no warm welcome from that lot." The resignation in his voice dispelled Elizabeth's last doubt about his veracity.

"If you were in my family tree, Jack Sparrow, I certainly wouldn't be loathe to claim you. In fact, I'd want the whole world to know."

Jack managed a small smile. "An' I'd be delighted to claim you, and Willy, as my relatives. But I were tellin' the truth- my Da's name wasn't Windsor. Nor Swann. And certainly not Turner." He hesitated a moment, before adding, "If you're really keen ta know, you can ask Teague. Just don't be surprised if the inquiry provokes some fireworks. It's not likely he'll be happy with me fer spillin' that cargo."

Liz thought for a moment. "I'm probably better off not knowing. If I did, I might be tempted to some... regrettable action." She straightened, dismissing the mood. "Anyway, nothing your father could reveal would be likely to change my view of you. You are Captain Jack Sparrow- charming rogue, devious schemer, legendary adventurer, and skilled cartographer." Elizabeth scooped up the quill, and handed it back to him. "So perhaps you could resume updating my charts?"

"Be glad to." Jack carefully inked the tip and got back to work. "Don't imagine I feel any sense of deprivation over this, luv. I've done perfectly well fer myself, without bein' listed in any kennel books."

Liz nodded fondly. "Fluctuat, nec mergitur."

The pirate flashed a grateful golden grin. "Bene dictum, Lizzie. I told you Latin were useful."

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FINIS

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Translations:

Desinit in piscem mulier formosa superne. - A woman who is beautiful above ends in a fishtail.

Quidquid latine dictum sit altum viditur. - Whatever is said in Latin sounds profound.

Vah! Denuone Latine loquebar? Me ineptum. Interdum modo elabitur. - Oh! Was I speaking Latin again? Silly me. Sometimes it just slips out.

Qualis pater, talis filius. - Like father, like son.

Fluctuat, nec mergitur. - It is tossed by the waves, but it does not sink.

Bene dictum. - Well said.

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Historical Note:

St. James' Palace was the principle residence of the British monarchs, prior to their acquisition of Buckingham Palace in 1761.