Sparrow's Point of View
I watch the young pirate as he pounds on a piece of hot metal. His original trade is blacksmith, but I know better. He is a true pirate, like his father before him. When I came into his life, it changed and he found his true calling. Of course he found his other true calling—Elizabeth. Such a shame, I know, and he's still not over his fiancée's death.
Lately he's been letting all his anger out on his work, and I can see it when I visit him at night. If anyone in this place sees me, they'll have me hanged. That doesn't scare me, I'm a pirate—Jack Sparrow, captain of the Black Pearl. I know that if I comfort him enough, he'll eventually give in and come to me, with me, back to my ship where he can live out his true calling. I know he's giving in.
I sit, watching, sipping my rum. I love rum. I love him.
He lifts the hot metal in the air and a quick image of the first time we came in contact comes to my mind. A good fighter, he is. Good footwork, and knows the sword. Looking around this room at all the swords hanging around, I can see how well he knows the sword.
He seems to work more calmly when I'm around, sitting in my corner watching him. He's been working late into the night lately, but that's good for me. Then I can sit with him, and watch him. I know he'll come back with me soon. We'll go out to sea. Together.