I'm not the owner of PotC, though I wanted to.
I hope you enjoy it!
Three potatoes floated above the soup in his plate, as savorless as his own life had been in the last months. The spoon played between them, sometimes piling them up, sometimes separating them. He took a sip from the now tepid soup, watching the remnants of smoke that would still touch his face, making it a bit warm. He felt his eyes weighing like they were rocks inside his head and the hit coming from the soup would make him feel even more fatigated. This was, as far as he could tell, the twelfth tavern where he had gone in the last ten months. Swallowed the rum from his mug as if it was a life's potion and the alcohol just fit him like a glove. He let the mug's pottery beats against the table, its sound muffled between the screams, whispers and moans that were coming from the clientele's incessant mouths.
He was sitting on a dark corner, hided from the others by the shadows. Cutting up a piece from the tavern's hardened bread and just ahead, putting it inside the soup, he took a big bite from it. In fact, even that movement could make him feel tired. Everything around him was putting him on a dead zone of which he couldn't leave for days. Not even the women's fingers passing sporadically and rubbing against him were effective.
Edwin was feeling defeated and the bitterness of this defeat finally came out. He dropped the spoon on his plate and looked for his bottle of rum. Empty. His memory would deceive him as he tried to remember. How is it already empty? He didn't even feel the sweet taste of the liquor in his mouth so that the bottle could prove to be empty.
He pulled three shillings out of his pocket so that he could get a room where he could throw his morbid body over some blankets and faint for a night, until sunbeams penetrated his orbits as well as the screams of Guendoline, the tavern's owner, crying out for him to leave. There were more customers, after all, and Edwin was not exclusive, nor did he own a large fortune so he could pay for more than one day.
His body moved slowly as he left the table, leg by leg. He looked around the tavern, his breath heavy with sleep. At dawn, he would have to find some ship where he could infiltrate or just work as a sailor for a miserable hammock below the deck. Reflecting on it made his bones quiver. Eleven years ago, he had been disguising himself and entering places where he was not invited. In eleven years he had not been able to form even an alliance with some pirates. By some chance, luck had never been a very significant factor in his life. Thrown into the arms of mischance, he seized it with both hands and dealt with the misfortune that life had hitherto reserved for him. What he had left was to deal with the facts, day after day. It was the best he could do at the moment.
Immersed in melancholy, he finally turned away from the table. His legs lifted and the rum he had taken seemed to suddenly take over his mind. He staggered for a few seconds, regaining his balance, and finally stopped, his black orbits snapping as he felt his pupils dilate to what his eyes, in a final analysis of the hall, stood on a table full of pirates. What struck him, however, were not drunken sailors and a game of dice. The click in his brain was due to a man in question, sitting with his legs stretched out on a long bench leaning against a pillar, his hat down enough to cover his eyes. Were it not for his remarkable and categorical characteristics, he would have gone unnoticed, honestly.
Smiling and not believing what he saw, he made strides to the table where the pirates were and what was probably their captain. He pushed one of the men seated in front of the figure and took the place at the table. He heard shouts of discontent and a knife pointed at his throat. Without sketching any expressions, he parted his lips and said, intoning the most serious voice he could:
"Jack Sparrow".
Jack lifted his hat over his eyes and stared at the boy in front of him. He narrowed his eyes, not knowing who it was.
"Captain Jack Sparrow", he let go, clearing his throat. "Your wishes, boy?"
"I thought you were dead".
"Dead?", he mocked. "I'm Ja…"
"I know", Edwin sighed. "You're the legendary Captain Jack Sparrow. Now…", he paused. "Bluntly: are you accepting crewmembers on your ship?"
"What do you have to offer?"
"What is there to be done?"
"Unfortunately, all the posts inside the Black Pearl are occupied. If you want to get on my ship, you should at least give me something in return".
"It is just a ship. And the more men you have got, the better".
"You see ...", Jack drew his legs off the bench and sat straight in front of the boy, his hands on the table as he played with the rings on his fingers. "There is not even a good reason for me to accept you, boy. First you lack me with all due respect. Your arrogance and petulance are not pleasant, savvy?" He dug the rum into a mug and made a guttural sound of disapproval. "Secondly: the posts are complete. No need to overload my ship with dead-weight".
"I can convince you to accept me with a little conversation, if you will allow me, of course." He waited for Jack to give him the endorsement and continued. "I've been looking for the notorious Jack Sparrow for eleven years. It is not a very favorable condition, you see. Although I have my own reasons, reasons which I can explain even in topics, proving thus necessary", He watched the glint of curiosity sparkle in Jack's eyes. I caught your attention, sailor? "When I was nine, I discovered that my mother had been lying to me since birth. She invented fairy tales so I would believe that a certain man was my father", he sighed. "We argued, and that night I prepared a bundle of my most used utensils and clothes and left at dawn. I have not seen her since then".
"And when do I become part of the story?"
"I discovered that night that my mother used to have an affair with a pirate. Apparently, this is considered an absurdly normal fact. I would not disagree". He poured himself the rum bottle, sipping and enjoying the remarkable quality difference of that drink from the crap he had taken earlier. "The point is… well, the famous pirate my mother used to talk about so much was called Jack Sparrow. Of course, it's not as if she had simply told me this by her own and voluntary will".
"Boy", Jack started, smiley. "You're not the first and will not be the last caller of the bastard's title on account of my libertine past". He stood up, turning his back on him. "I hope you get a ship where you can serve, sailor."
"I have not finished my story!", he caught his attention.
"I do not need to know".
Edwin laughed derisively and snorted at Jack Sparrow. He hoped he would not have to get so straight to the heart of the conversation. Not so fast.
"My mother is the Pirate King", he finally said, so loud and so clear that half of the tavern was suddenly silent, watching the scene. "Elizabeth Swann. You remember her, don't you? I hope so".
Lizzie. That name, shouted without the slightest momentum, made Sparrow's entire body shudder. Without even noticing his own rapidity, he immediately stood before the boy, holding him by the lapel of his coat. The sailors raised their swords, encircling Edwin.
"What is your name?" He whispered.
"Edwin Swann. Elizabeth Swann is my mother. And you, my father. When I discovered this, I had no doubts: I had to know you. The problem is that my mother believed you... were dead. So the reason I actually faced my painful journey of eleven years was... to prove her otherwise. But for a long time I also believed you were dead. Of course, till the incidents a few months ago... until lustrous black sails were seen again by the ocean".
"Prove it", Jack let it out almost inaudibly.
Edwin lifted his chin, his head hanging slightly to the left. There was a sign on his skin that was identical to Jack's. But clearly that would not be enough.
"If you let me go... I can offer you more evidence".
Releasing himself from Sparrow's hands, Edwin straightened his coat and slipped his hand into his inner pocket. He pulled out what appeared to be a small book. The leather cover was protected by a sisal rope delicately tied at its ends.
"It's my mother's diary. I stole it before I ran away. I figured this discussion would end this way if it ever happened. You would need proof, wouldn't you? You cannot believe anyone's word".
"I do not understand", Jack whispered to himself, picking up the diary in his hands. "I met Elizabeth' son, Henry. Turner".
"Oh. So, she's still lying?" Edwin laughed wryly. "Henry is my younger brother, even though we're the same age. But he's far from being a Turner. You see, one day on land. Ten years at sea. We've all heard this story, huh? The point is... Henry and I are the same age because... we're twins. Which means..."
"He is my son?" Jack took a small step back, startled.
"If you do not believe me, just read the diary. You will surely identify my mother's handwriting. If you still remember".
Jack looked at him in amazement.
"Though I do not think it's a good idea to discuss family matters in such environment. It's kind of hostile. Your sailors pointing swords and daggers at me as if I were a mortal threat to you. Or is this just your loving way of saying hello to a son?"
Jack nodded to the sailor to let the weapons down.
"I'm not used to paternity standards".
"So you believe me?"
"That's not what I said", he kept the diary with him and pointed the way to Edwin. "Come on".
Fast and steady steps finally led them to the Black Pearl.
Hello, folks!
I'm Thomas, the author of the newest Sparrabeth adventure on this website (is it the newest? I dunno, but... I think it's one of the newest xP).
I'm sorry for not updating it faster, college and work are taking me some of my time. But don't give up on me: I'll post a new chapter very soon!
Anyone with questions, send in private message or as a review and I'll answer you :)
You, readers, may be wondering about how could Edwin and Henry be twin brothers, how did Jack and Elizabeth's relationship happened in the past. I'd be too, but I'll explain everything soon enough. Like you - I guess -, I don't like gaps in the plot, so I'm developing everything for ya! :)
Oh: Viollet, thanks for the review!