'Worn Drabble'
Summary: Governor Swann remembers the past and hopes for the future, along with his constant companion.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: I own nothing in this.
Author's Note: I finally found a way to work one of my favorite characters into a story! There really should be more stories about Governor Swann.
Governor Weatherby Swann had been thrown in his own prison. They had taken all of his excess personal effects as well, including his coat and, of all things, his wig. His wig, he thought, had been with him through everything that had happened since he came to the Caribbean. It was that wig he had worn when Port Royal had been attacked by Barbossa's brutish, haunted crew. It was that wig when he had gone, against the good Commodore's wishes, with the Navy to find his daughter ("I hate to pull rank on you James, but as Governor, I demand the right to search for my daughter."). It had even been that very wig which he had fought a skeletal hand over, ghastly thing that it was. The wig was a bit worn by now, and though he had hated it for years ("Why won't this infernal thing stop itching?!), he was reluctant to simply order a new one. The thing, however uncomfortable, had a lot of memories in it. 'Hopefully,' he thought, 'it will soon also contain the one where I get out of this blasted cell!'