A/N So.. I'm back. I asked FF about translating a story. But they didn't answer me. So, here you guys go. A serious fic this time. The Dutch version is dying a slow and painful death at the moment, because there are few Dutch writers on FF. Even though there's a great difference in quality between the English and Dutch version, I hope you'll enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I don't own POTC... deal with it!

Prologue:

A rainy summer day in Amsterdam, Holland. It's the year 1717. A dark and sombre appearing mansion overlooks the deserted Rapenburg. On the second floor, in a gloomy, stuffed room, an old lady lies in her bed. Her white grey hair covered with a little cap, blankets tucked in around her. Her doctor finishes examining her and leaves the room silently, shaking his head in a sad manner. Complete and utter stillness fills the room, slowly the minutes pass.
Until an awful coughing rips through the silence.

This woman.. is dying..

This woman.. is me.

On a chair besides the bed, sits a girl. Barely 19 years old, she is. Her tiny hands lay folded in her lap, her hair done up to the latest fashion. Her young, fragile face is painted thickly, making her seem like a living doll. This girl... is my granddaughter. Her name is Anna. Every time I look at her, it's like gazing in a mirror. A cruel mirror, showing me how my young years have fled from me. She has my blue eyes, my blond hair and my posture when I had her age. When I had her age... A sad little smile plays on my lips, until I start coughing again.

Those wonderful blue eyes are regarding me with concern: "Please grandmamma, stop worrying so much. The doctor told you to keep your rest."

"Worrying, child? Me? Ah, dear, this old hag isn't worrying about anything. You, of all people should know."
A sad little smile appears around the corners of her mouth, and tenderly she takes my hand from the blankets.

Was I like that? A long time ago? So innocent? So sweet? So caring and tender? Would he have looked at me, the same way I'm looking at Anna now? Smiling at my immaturity?
"Grandmamma? What are you smiling about? What's on your mind that makes you so happy?" This time her eyes aren't sad, or concerned. She's curious, wants to know about my behavior.

"I'm thinking about a time, long gone, a time that will keep a place in my mind and my heart. I'm thinking about him, his stories and his smile. I'm thinking about places I've been, and never will see again in my life."
"A man, grandmother? Surely, you're talking about grandfather?". With her thumb, she's stroking my hand, urging me to go on and continue what seems the beginning of another story. Ever since she was a toddler, she had a fancy for stories. Adventures. I've told her all the tales I know three times already. All.. but one. There is one tale I've never dared to tell her. All because of his reputation, his reputation that caused me to keep silent about him for all these years. Until today. Today will be my last chance.

"No little one, I'm not talking about your grandfather. May god watch over his soul. I'm talking about another man. A rogue, a pirate. Please, dear. Hand your old grandmother another glass of wine, and she'll tell you the story about Captain Jack Sparrow."

A/N:
So, what did you guys think? Am I better at humor and should I stop this right now right here? Or am I given permission to continue?

On a side note: If you see any historical errors, please let me know! I did research, but that was all in Dutch.. And a lot of the facts were contradicting each other.

On a second side note: if anything is not clear because it's too... Dutchy... feel free to ask!