Hello readers of FanFiction! It has been several years since I have posted anything, but I found this story, mostly completed, on one of my flashdrives. The last two chapters I wrote this past week, but everything before that was made a few years ago. So, it is COMPLETED. I will be uploading the rest of the chapters once a week, probably Friday nights.
I forgot all about this story, but I thoroughly enjoyed reading it and completing it. Since we are our own worst critics, I think that means you will enjoy it too!
Takes place a few months after On Stranger Tides.
Jack Sparrow/Angelica, Will Turner/Elizabeth Swann (mentioned)
Captain Barbossa made his disgraceful entrance back into the illustrious English Navy on a small dingy in the middle of the night. He sputtered the seawater out of his mouth and bowed in front of the nearest British officer he could see, howling his apologies. There had been only murmurings of what happened at the Fountain of Youth, and particularly as to what happened to the members of Barbossa's crew on that particular mission. So after much persuading, though to the English egos it may have seemed like pleading, the great nation accepted the pirate back with suspicious arms. Though it was always assumed that had you been a proper captain, you would have gone down with your ship, Barbossa was given his rank back with the promise of just one more chance.
"But what happened to the Queen Anne's Revenge, Black Beard's disastrous ship? What of the Spanish? What of the Fountain of Youth? What of Jack Sparrow?" They all whispered, the rumors between the lower class growing every day.
Though England didn't have control over the Fountain of Youth, neither did the Spanish, and that was all that mattered. Barbossa's intricately woven tales made it seem that the crew fought the Spanish until they breathed their last breath, but he only just escaped. The crew, the Spanish, and unfortunately the tools that could help him find the Fountain were lost in the ocean forever. Spain had, of course, released an official statement that they had destroyed the Fountain but not before having a fight with Barbossa's crew, but what was the word of Catholics against the word of Barbossa? If the English failed to accept Barbossa back into their ranks, which would mean Spain had the correct side of the story. And that simply couldn't be done. So Barbossa's missing crew was conveniently buried.
Barbossa may have had the Navy fooled with his adventure filled story of how he escaped in only a small boat, but the lower levels of the English Empire were unmoved when the news of the sudden disappearance of the pirate broke out like an epidemic. It was the news that came out afterwards that truly surprised everyone. A document from the tightly guarded hands of the government was missing.
It was assumed as it should have been, that the two highly suspicious occurrences were linked. However, no matter how hard they tried, it seemed that the pirate had managed to vanish off the face of the Earth. And we all know that desperate times call for desperate measures…
"We'll get him soon enough," the young captain answered confidently to his silver haired elder. His chin was high and his voice was strong, though the trembling in the tips of his fingers gave away his unease.
The silver haired man looked extremely old, but strong. It might have been the maleficent glimmer in his eye, or the way he slicked his hair back so that the world could see the white scars that ran across his face like the waves in the ocean. One thing was certain, this was a man you didn't want to double cross. This fact became even more evident when he smiled, for this made the scars stand out. "That's what you told me before we sent the Vigil!," he hissed. The lights in the cabin flickered menacingly at his words and the hidden threat behind them. "The Vigil was supposed to be invincible, was it not, captain?" He used the title like a swear word, the squeak of his boots on the floor was the only sound in the otherwise quiet room as he paced. His steps were carefully planned and even, and this made the younger man more nervous.
"Sir, against the Queen Anne's Revenge that boat was a mere plaything…" he stuttered over his words, his palms running up and down the arms of the chair. He had the overwhelming desire to run his fingers through his blonde hair in both nerves and frustration.
The elder man stopped his perfect pacing abruptly and turned on his heel. "And where is this plaything," he began with malice. "Now?"
The captain gulped as he felt himself breaking out in a sweat. "A-at the bottom of the sea, er, sir."
A calm smile made its way across his face and he reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a small and elaborately adorned dagger. "Do you know what the universal rule of the sea is, captain?" he asked so quietly that the younger man had to strain to hear him.
"No-o, sir."
The brows of the general furrowed. "Strange, you would think that the top of his class would know it… doesn't everybody? Let me see if I can jog your memory…" he ran a finger slowly up the side of the blade and the other man had to fight to keep his attention from the ruby eye in the center of the knife. "Do you know how I got this?"
"Excuse me? Er, sir?" The sudden change of subject was startling to the younger man, whose eyes still wandered to the ruby.
"I was in a bar one night, as men often are," he began slowly, accentuating every word. "And I got to talking with a –gentleman-," he smiled humorlessly. "It turns out that you both had a lot in common. He was the captain of a ship, respectable, young, but as it turns out he committed the worst offense of all- he abandoned ship." There were beads of sweat coming off the captain now and his knuckles were beginning to turn white from where he was grabbing the arm rests. "Did you abandon ship, captain?" he asked, twirling the knife between his fingers.
"Well I-" the captain began. In a flash the elder struck the hand with the knife across his face and the captain let out a yell of pain.
"I didn't ask for excuses! Did you, or did you not go down with your ship?"
"No- no I didn't!" he cried in answer, one hand covering his face, the other fumbling desperately on his jacket to stop the flow.
"No you didn't what?"
"I didn't go- go down with the- the ship- sir!" he sobbed, now a crimson handkerchief covering half his face.
"Are you a grown man or not?" he scoffed, wiping his blade on his own handkerchief. "Anyway, I shot down the man straight in the chest and took the only thing of value on him- this blade. I only take it out when someone has done something so disgraceful that they deserve to be punished. And you, Captain Porter, deserved to be punished."
"Yes sir," he gasped in response.
"But I'll let you live," he flourished his arms in a mock forgiving manner. "But don't make me regret my decision. If you don't capture Captain Barbossa and the property he stole back, I will change my mind." He stared with disgust at the writhing Captain Porter. "But make sure you clean this place before you do."
"And stay out!" the bartender called as he shut the door in the pirates face.
"Hey- you can't do this to me! I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, the best pirate in the world, I can run circles around- aw hey who needs you and your- you lousy dung beetle pie head…" his words slurred near the end of his speech, dusted himself off, and took a swing of the bottle grasped tightly in his dirty hand. He stumbled down the dark alleyway. "Oopie, that's a wall," he mumbled to himself.
Before he knew it the world had spun around a few times and turned black. This was a pretty regular occurrence for the pirate, but the next day's surprise was far from normal.
The first thing he noticed the next morning was that in the night he spilt his rum all over himself and had none left.
The second was that he had slept on a brick wall the night before and his back hurt like hell.
The third was that he had- not one- but close to eighteen muskets pointed at him. "Oh, good morning then. I'd reach for my pistol but I can't even feel me toes. Be a nice chap and let me up." He held up a hand to an extremely confused uniformed officer. "Go on then, take me to your leader, I haven't got all day. Plenty of bars left to visit you know."
"There's no need Captain Sparrow, I'm right here. We expected more of a fight from you due to your reputation. Hard to find, easy to capture." A well dressed man made his appearance behind a few of his officers, the long scar running his face new and fresh.
"Well it would be real friendly- like of you to not spread it around to the ladies that I'm too easy, eh? Gotta make 'em think yer fightin' them a little, you know." He winked at the officer to his left. He then held out both of his hands. "Well, go on and clap me in irons, I'm already got a pretty good idea of how I'm going to escape. Hey, if yer gonna be confiscatin' anything, could you be a dear an' leave my leather bracelet on me left hand alone eh?"
"I'm sure that could be arranged," Porter replied back stiffly. He nodded at the officer closest to Jack and he slipped the cuffs on his hands.
"So it's back to the prison then? I've been missin' that dog with the keys. Now that I think about it, could' ya keep the biscuit in me right pocket alone also?"
"No, I'm afraid you're wrong, Captain. You're about to have an audience with His Excellency."
"Oh you mean the red fat guy in the giant fake wig? Talks real stiff like? I've already met 'im."
"You might want to talk of your king with a bit more respect or you'll find yourself in a sticky situation." Porter began to walk and the officers made a protective ring around the pirate.
The holding carriage was only on the next road. They opened the iron bars and Jack stepped inside without a struggle. "If the sticky situation involves one of his Most Excellentnessness' cream puffs, then count me in."
"Behave yourself Sparrow." And the doors clamped shut.
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