Pirates and Precedents

"I still think it was a bloody foolish thing to do."

"That's only because I did it to you.  If it had been, say, Norrington, you would think it was the most hilarious thing in the world."

Will turned to stare at the pirate's dark profile, the Pearl's railing providing a comfortable backrest.  "If you had tried something like this with Norrington you wouldn't have lived to laugh about it."

"Have a bit of faith, son.  If I wanted him I could take him."  Jack waved his half-empty rum bottle in a slow semi-circle as he talked, the slur to his words seeming no more pronounced now than when he was completely sober.

"I would have taken a few lives . . .at least a few limbs . . .if I'd been armed."

Jack's gold teeth flashed briefly in the moonlight.  "Blacksmiths don't walk around armed, Will.  I'm not one to take chances with my life, nor m' crew's.  If you'd have had a sword, I'd've simply said 'Hello, fancy a short voyage'."

"I think I would have preferred that to the whole black-bag-and-silence-kidnapping."

"Is it still considered kidnapping if the whelp in question is twenty-one-years-old and about to be married, I wonder?"  Jack sat up straighter and turned so that he was fully facing Will, his legs still stretched out in front of him.  "If it truly upset you that much, lad, then I apologize.  Just having a bit of fun, that's all I was doin'.  Figured that a man who invited pirates to his wedding wouldn't take it very hard."

"It's all right, Jack.  I'm glad you brought me out here."

"On the Pearl?  Who wouldn't be glad to be brought on board 'er?  Best ship in the world, she is."  Jack's left hand stroked gently along the decking, creeping back to where it merged with the railing, fondling even that small piece of her as though it were a lover he had been too long apart from.  He stopped abruptly when he saw Will watching, taking another drink before relaxing back again.  "So you don't mind being taken away from your bonny lass, even just three days before your long-awaited wedding?"

This time it was Will who decided it was time for another drink, taking an especially long one in lieu of answering.

A slow grin spread across Jack's face.  "We could always try to fetch her, too, y'know.  People wouldn't noticed a child born three days early."

"Jack, if you don't want me to find a sword and use you for target practice, I'd shut my mouth now."

"Why?  Just because I'm tryin' to do you a good turn, mate?  Not many men I know would object to gettin' their girl a mite faster than they expected."  The sly grin widened as Jack leaned forward again, his hands weaving patterns in the air that somehow seemed to match his words perfectly.  "Or maybe it's the 'Elizabeth' part that ye object to.  I know some nice lasses we could—"

"Jack—"

"All right, all right.  Calm down, lad.  Lose your virginity with your wife on your wedding day, all nice and romantic-hero like.  Wouldn't it be amusing if she'd already lost hers?"

"Jack!  I swear, say one word more like that and you'll regret it.  If you wish to pick at me, pirate, do so, but leave my lady be."

"I'm sorry, Will.  I know how you feel 'bout 'Lizbeth.  That was uncalled for."

"Aye, it was."

The pirate tilted his head and opened his mouth to answer, seemed to think better of it, and instead stood, pointing with his right hand and the rum bottle to the billowing sails that showed as a uniform dark patch against the moon- and star-studded beauty of the night.  "You ever been aloft, lad?"

"No . . ."

The grin that crossed the pirate's face now was closer to childish delight than cunning.  "Time to fix that, then."

"Now?  In the dead of night?  When we've both been drinking for . . ."  Will couldn't quite think of how long they'd been drinking.  He'd basically just followed Jack's lead since finding himself unceremoniously jumped, blindfolded, and herded back to the Pearl earlier that evening.

"Yes, now.  Definitely now.  Trust me, lad.  I'll be right behind you.  I won't let you fall."

Will stared hard at the rigging for a moment.  "All right."  Why not?

'Why not' didn't decide to wait long to make itself apparent.

"That's it, just place your foot there.  Pull with your arms . . .come on, lad, you've gotta have some muscles after poundin' metal for eight bloody years."

"Jack, the bloody mast is moving!  It's swaying!"

"Of course it's swaying!  We're on a ship, William, moving up and down and side to side and we're not at anchor!  Now just keep your balance and put your foot . . .BLOODY HELL, wait for me to move my hand, whelp!"

Will made the mistake of looking down to apologize . . .and down . . .and down.  When had the deck gotten so far away?

"Will, what's the one thing you never do when climbing?"

"Look down . . ."  His voice seemed to be coming from rather far away.

"Then why in bloody hell are you looking down?!  Come on, lad, not much further up, and I guarantee that the reward is worth the risk."

Again that grin of barely suppressed glee crossed Jack's face, and again Will was struck by the lack of conniving that showed.

"Up, son."  Jack's voice was lowering and deepening, falling towards the tones he used as Captain of the Pearl, and Will instinctively responded, gaining the last few feet in one brief rush, always aware of the presence below him, ready to steady him if he seemed about to fall.

"Look around, Will.  Isn't it just . . ."

Will wasn't entirely certain what word Jack meant to use as his voice trailed off.  The view was . . .breathtaking, magnificent, gorgeous, amazing, stunning, surreal, ethereal . . .beyond description and yet . . .not.

Water stretched in gently rolling waves all around them, flickering and rollicking under the light of the full moon.  A light breeze, heavy-laden with the unique salty scent of the ocean, tugged at his hair and his clothing, dropping the comfortable temperature of the night to almost chilling.  The sails billowed and snapped around him.  Stars danced their own unique waltz across the heavens, bright and clear.  A faint scattering of stars seemed to lie amid the water, far off to starboard.

"That's your bonny lass and your bloody friend Norrington.  Port Royal.  I think it looks better from this distance and angle."

Will didn't answer, still drinking in the sights around him, no longer aware of the sway of the mast.  Everything looked and felt so . . .right . . .

A quick hand grabbing a fistful of his shirt was all that kept him from finding out exactly how far down the deck truly was.  "Jesus, Will, keep your head on straight!"

"It's your fault if it isn't on straight.  You're the one with all the rum."  Will continued to stare around him, memorizing every detail that he could.

"I think that's enough time aloft.  Time to get you back down to somewhat solid ground before you fall and kill yourself.  Elizabeth would never forgive me if I brought you back with so much as a splinter, not that the Pearl has splinters, mind you, let alone with half your bones broken."

A very strong effort was put into not looking too far down as Will shifted to make eye contact with the pirate, who still had a solid grasp on his shirt.  "Exactly how do we get down?"

"Usually the same way we got up, less'n you want to try jumpin'."

"That's quite all right.  We'll go with the climbing."

Climbing down wasn't nearly as hard as Will had expected it would be, though a few muffled curses in what seemed to be at least three languages every time he misstepped or stepped on Jack's hand made it a rather educational experience.

"You know, Will, I need my hands in this job.  Getting my fingers fractured multiple times would not be conducive to my survival."  Jack made a great show of flexing each finger slowly, grimacing a few times, whether in real pain or not Will wasn't entirely certain.

"Slipping into Port Royal to capture an honest citizen of the crown wasn't exactly conducive to survival, either."

"You sent the invitation.  I'd say that at least docks the 'honest' from the crime."

"Elizabeth and I thought it was only right, considering without you we wouldn't have had even a slim chance."

Jack retrieved their bottles of rum, his hands apparently completely healed by the feel of the glass against them.  "You made your own chances.  I just added a bit of chaos to the mixture."

"You did indeed.  It's completely against precedent, you know.  The governor's daughter, marrying an orphaned blacksmith's apprentice."

"Whoever follows precedent?  Besides, you'll get your own shop . . .if that's what you truly want."

"It is, and I will, sooner than I thought thanks to Mr. Brown.  It was quite nice of him, really.  He almost acted like when I was younger, when we were a family ourselves, before he started trying to drink himself to death.  When he saw that Governor Swann wasn't going to let Elizabeth marry a simple apprentice, and that I still wanted to be a blacksmith, he decided to just give me the shop.  He's moving back to England, hoping to hunt down old family."

"What'd the Gov'nor think of that?"

Will gestured grandly with his hands, sarcasm underlining his words.  "He's still not exactly thrilled.  He kept trying to see if I was good at anything else, anything respectable for a gentleman to pursue.  He even tried to get me to turn diplomat once."

"Heaven forbid.  If you made deals like you did with Barbossa, you'd have lost three-quarters of the British Empire by now and be shooting at your allies."

"Suggested I enter the Navy once, too, use my swordsmanship to good advantage.  I don't want to, though.  I like my work.  I'm good at it."

"You could be a good sailor, too."

"Not navy, I couldn't be."

"Aye . . ."  Jack's dark gaze was even more disconcerting in the moonlight.  "Will, there's somethin' else that I want you t' try before I take you home, all right?"

Will hesitated a moment before nodding.  "All right."

A short sprint across the ship brought them to the helm, which Jack calmly relieved Anamaria of, murmuring something that caused her to both laugh and shake her fist at him.  A moment later she disappeared into the night, leaving Jack with the wheel, which he gently stroked as he continued to murmur, whether to himself or to the ship Will wasn't sure.

"Will . . .come here."

Will responded slowly to the command, already guessing what Jack had in mind and dreading it.

"I want you to guide her, Will."

Jack spoke as though the ship were a donkey or some such that could be lead by a bridle.

"Come on, Will.  I'll be right here.  I won't let you hurt her."

Will hesitated a moment more as he stepped forward, allowing Jack to position his hands.

"And if you hurt her, I'll kill you."  With that half-jesting remonstration, Jack stepped back, and Will felt for the first time the full restrained force that was the Black Pearl.

The ship seemed to have a life of it's own, tugging and pulling at the wheel, attempting to turn it this way and that.  For a few seconds Will fought against the pull, hoping to simply keep the ship sailing along slowly and smoothly as it had under Jack and Anamaria's sure hands.

His hopes were dashed very quickly as the ship seemed to buck, lurching through the rolling waves, and the billowing canvas snapped and slumped.

 "I don't think this was a very good idea, Jack.  I don't think she likes me much."  Will found himself unable to back away as he wished, pinioned against the helm by Jack's body as the pirate regained control of the ship.

"No, lad, nothing against you.  She just doesn't like being fought, my lady doesn't.  Knew you were scared, too.  Never show fear to a ship.  Come on.  I want you to try again."  Will again settled his hands against the wheel.  "Don't fight against her, not like you were.  Feel the wind and watch the sails."  Will's eyes slitted in concentration as he attempted to follow Jack's lead.  Slowly, surely, he found the movement of his hands in unison with instead of against Jack's, the ship still running an even, steady course.  "Just guide her . . .that's it, son . . ."

When Will stepped away from the helm fifteen minutes later, Jack following once Anamaria again took his place, his hands were shaking from sheer exhilaration.  Guiding the Pearl was like nothing else he had ever done in his life . . .no dreams could ever have approached the reality . . .

"I take it you enjoyed that."  Jack was grinning from ear to ear, two fresh bottles of rum in his hands.

"I . . .that was . . ."

"I know, lad."  Jack pressed one of the bottles into Will's hands before moving to lean against the starboard railing, eyes fixed on what Will knew from his time aloft was Port Royal, though no glow showed from deck.

"Thank you, Jack.  For everything."

"You're welcome.  You know, all sailors aren't navy or merchant."

"Jack . . .I couldn't . . ."

"Just somethin' t' think about, lad."

"We want a family.  Elizabeth and I.  I'm not going to be a father who's never home."

"Worked well enough for Bootstrap."

"Did it?"

Jack finally turned to meet Will's gaze.

"I never knew my father, except as an occasional signature at the bottom of a piece of sea-stained paper, or as a shadowy figure that sent trinkets that I didn't want but kept simply because they were his.  What boy do you know who wants an Aztec medallion?  Forgetting the fact that it's cursed, of course."

"Some boys would like it.  Some would trade it for something they wanted."

"I couldn't even trade it, because then I'd be trading all I had of him."

"He did care for you, y'know.  Talked about you, thought about you.  He just . . .loved the sea, and he needed the money."

"I know.  I still won't do that to my children."

"You wouldn't have to be away from home all the time."

"And I won't let myself end up in the hangman's noose, Elizabeth forced to watch, disgrace piled on top of grief.  I can't."

"You'll miss the sea."

"Aye.  I will.  Even if I've only known her a short while, I'll miss her.  Nothing says I can't visit, though, right?"

Jack was silent, his gazed fixed on the undulating water that slapped against the side of his ship.

"Jack, right?"

The pirate finally raised his gaze, a somewhat melancholy grin on his face.  "Aye, right.  Just thought I should point out all your career options there, in case you'd overlooked a few, but it seems you've thought everything out.  You would make a good pirate, you know, 'specially with that trick of yours."

"Throwing my sword?"

"Unless you've come up with another one in the time since I saw you last, aye, that one."

"It wouldn't help much in truly close-quarter combat."

"It might.  You never did show me how you did it."

"I'm not certain I can see straight, Jack, let alone throw straight.  Besides, I don't have a sword on me at the moment, as you're already well aware."

"Use mine.  Just aim for the middle one."

Will turned the borrowed weapon over in his hand, taking a few practice cuts to find the balance before gripping it firmly by the hilt.  "Middle what?"

Jack's grin widened.  "Just toss it at anything that isn't alive, but make it so we can pull it out, all right?  I rather like that sword."

"So you give it to a drunk man to throw.  This makes a lot of sense."

"Since when do I make sense?"

It was Will's turn to grin as he nodded, tensed, shifted his grip on the sword, and threw all in one fluid movement, embedding the first inch of the sword in the mast at eye level.

"I thought I told you to make it so it comes out."  Jack braced both feet against the mast and tugged in an effort to free his sword, which chose the exact moment he turned to glare at Will to decide to come free, dropping the pirate gracelessly to the deck.

"I did."  Will tried not to laugh as he offered a hand to help Jack up, a hand that was pointedly ignored.

"My turn.  This how you had your hand?"

Will shook his head and adjusted the pirate's grip, repositioning his hand on the hilt and guiding his arm slowly through the motion of the throw before backing away and watching Jack repeat it, still without releasing the sword.

"What're you aiming at, Jack?"

"The rail."

"Don't you think a bigger target would be better for the first attempt?"

"I've got pretty good aim, son.  I can hit it."

"All right."  Will didn't entirely succeed in keeping the doubt from his voice.

"All right.  Here we go."

The sword arced neatly, swiftly through the air, nicking the railing before continuing its arc downward and out of sight.

Both men stood frozen for a moment before Jack lunged toward the rail.  Will grabbed his arm before the pirate could follow his sword over and into the ocean.

"You'll never find it, and like you said before, the ship is moving.  Diving off a moving ship is dangerous."

"I've done it before, and the ship's moving so if your bloody Commodore decides you've been gone too long the Pearl won't be dead in the water when he comes haring after us."

"What'll you do with me if that happens?"

"Either keep you or throw you overboard and hope he decides you're worth stopping to pick up."  Jack stared down towards the water again.  "I liked that sword."

"I did warn you."

"That's very comforting."

"I'll give you a better one once we're back in Port Royal.  You are staying long enough to come to the wedding, right?"

"I don't think Norrington would appreciate my presence there . . .or he might, but my neck wouldn't."

"Elizabeth will want to see you."

"I'll see what I can manage, lad."

"At least come ashore with me, let me give you another sword."

"It's your wedding.  I'm the one who's supposed to give you a gift."

"That's precedent, but who ever follows that?"  Will grinned.

Jack nodded, a small grin pulling at the corners of his own mouth.  "Aye.  Whoever follows that?"