I know, I know. I own nothing. Trust me, if I did, I wouldn't have confused the plot lines in DMC so much. Sam, Skinner, Maria and the butler guy are all mine, though.

Oh yeah, the pre-quel to this Fic is called 'The Sparrow and the Swan". It has two 'companion' type Fics, "Love of the Sea", dealing with Elizabeth and Jack, and also "The Summoning", dealing with Will, Barbossa, Gibbs and the rest of the crew. There'll be a final sequel to all three, but I'm yet sure what I'll call it. Enjoy!

Chapter One: To be the Hangman

Becket sat behind his desk, a tin of snuff to his left and a pile of unsigned documents on the right. He sat, bored looking, and listening to the man standing before him. Norrington had just received the ransom note, and had considered it worthy cause to break his house arrest. He had been placed under such upon arriving ship-less two days before.

Norrington had finally finished relating his harrowing journey to Becket. His Navy issue uniform was in poor shape, and he was sweating profusely. Beckett took a bit of snuff before addressing him,

"So, you're telling me that you took the liberty of going off course to wed a fugitive whilst you were on strict orders to report back to me with the whereabouts of the remaining crew of the Black Pearl. And in addition, you took on a stowaway that pirated the only god-damned ship available for currier work?!"

"In essence, milord, yes."

"And now you've received a barter notice, from Jones?"

"It demands the Heart in exchange for my...wife."

Beckett snorted to himself. He had met the aforementioned 'wife'. And he couldn't imagine why any man would bother with such a classless wench. He found it more likely that she had convinced Norrington to abandon his ship in a similar fashion to how Beckett himself had been persuaded: at gun point. Then why did the man cling to this ridiculous story? Beckett had mentioned it to the be-deviled sea captain. Jones had been just as confounded to the ransom note's sender as he had been. Unless of course someone was moonlighting as Jones in the attempt to cover up their own identity...Of course! The very man Beckett was after, Sparrow!

Not wanting Norrington to lose heart that his 'wife' had in fact been kidnapped by pirates, Beckett kept his thoughts to himself. Instead, he told the Captain,

"James, I shall give you one more chance. But I have no more ships to lend you. Therefore, I leave you with two choices-"

He was interrupted by the entrance of an errand boy.

"What do you want?"

"Sir, there's that ship, the vessel without a name?"

"What of it? Have any of the crew been identified?"

"Well, perhaps, sir, milord. It's just that, well, sir..."

"Get out with it boy, you try Lord Becket's patience!"

Norrington was on his last straw. He didn't need nervous lads getting in the way of his revenge.

"Well, sirs, that ship has just lifted anchor and"

He gulped in his throat nervously,

"Left."

Beckett slammed the desk with his fist,

"Damn!"

But Norrington remained calm. Something the boy had said had given him hope,

"You said that 'perhaps' some of the crew had been identified. Who was onboard?"

The boy fidgeted with a bit of lose string on his tunic,

"Well, sirs, this not being of any information that would be verifiable if you catch my meaning'"

He paused and Beckett nodded his head in encouragement, even rumors were of his attention,

"Well, I heard on of the dock hands, one of the older gentlemen, sirs, well, he said to me, he said, 'That there is Jack Sparrow, or I'm a clam.' And I looked at the ship but could hardly make any of them out."

"What is your point, lad?"

"Well, sirs, I takes out my scope to have a look see who is on the ship, and I sees a gentlemen of an outlandish sort."

Here he paused, for encouragement. Beckett eagerly obliged, his desire to hunt down Sparrow was consuming,

"Can you describe the man?"

Seeing his opportune position, the boy figured he take a chance at barter,

"Well, see, my memory is a bit foggy, I can't quite remember."

He smiled at the military men and rubbed his fingers along his thumb.

"If I had somewhat to remind me..."

This was too much for Norrington, he picked the boy up by the scruff of his neck,

"If you think that Lord Beckett, a King's man, is going to pay the likes of you for information that you owe him, as a civil duty to the crown, than-"

Becket had stood up and walked solidly over to the captain. Norrington let the boy's neck go, but turned him round to face the lord and kept his hands all-too-firmly on the lad's shoulders.

"Now, James. This boy and his family have been made poor by the acts of pirates. There's no reason to begrudge him if he wants a little backing for his efforts."

Here, Beckett flipped the lad a gold coin. He caught it in midair,

"Now that's more like it, gov'nor."

He pocketed the prize and continued his oration,

"He had an outlandish look to him, as I said. His hair was this tangle of black dreads, and what was topped off with a big old hat. He walked about sort of drunken like, you might say. He also had a good deal more black smear bout his eyes than you see on most sailors, like he was sailing West all his life. And he had a lady friend."

Norrington's fingers crushed into the boy's collarbone,

"Ow!"

He cringed, a little more than necessary. Beckett motioned for Norrington to release him.

"Can you describe the woman?"

The boy patted his empty breast pocket,

"My memory, it's foggy again..."

Beckett had had enough. He pulled his revolver and held it to the Adam's apple of the boy.

"You're quite well paid already."

He smiled and the boy swallowed in fear.

"Well, she was beautiful, like an angel, sirs. But her hair had been all chopped up, perhaps a new fashion."

He attempted a laugh at his joke, but received nothing in response.

"She had fine skin, and what was left of her hair was a sandy color. Well, that's all I can really relate about her. Not so distinct as the man, you see, sirs."

"That will do, then."

Beckett flipped another coin to the boy. He gave a short bow, and started for the door.

Norrington's head was slightly downcast as he thought, what if it had been her? But no, couldn't be. And no way of telling. The boy was clueless, couldn't recognize the fugitives, even with their pictures in the streets...Their pictures!

"Wait, boy! Hold!"

The lad considered making a run for it, but decided they might want to give him more money, turned back.

"Yes sir?"

"If you were shown an image of a person, could you ascertain for sure whether it was the person aboard that ship?"

Not seeing any harm in it, he answered in the affirmative.

"Good show, Norrington."

Beckett rang a bell, and a butler promptly entered the room.

"Yes sir?"

The man had a slow, snooty voice as he addressed his employer. James had a good notion to inform him that this was an officer in His Majesty's service, but decided against it.

"I would like you to have my man servant bring in one of the wanted leaflets for Sparrow. Specifically one with his image printed on it."

"Is that ah-ll, Sir?"

Norrington again wanted to bash him with the butt of his blade for that tone of voice. He spoke as though through his nostrils.

"No, in addition, I want him to visit the old Swan residence. Bring back a likeness of Ms. Elizabeth Swan. And be quick about it."

"Yes sir, as you wish."

The butler turned on his heels and left the room with little, if any, haste.

Beckett turned to Norrington, raised his eyebrows in approval. He then looked to the boy, and smiled like a wolf to a lamb,

"And now we wait."

After fifteen minutes, the boy began to look weary, and feeling a slight tinge of compassion, Beckett offered him a chair,

"Thanks, gov'nor."

"Would the young master be at all interested in some tea?"

The young lad's eyes widened and he grinned widely as his head nodded rapidly. Norrington glared in disapproval, but the lord had a mind of his own. James might've gained his present position in the Navy by the same means as Beckett, but it was the latter who did not forget his humble beginnings.

Enjoying how much this little façade of kindness seemed to irk Norrington, Beckett continued to treat the orphan as an equal.

"I don't believe we ever formally introduced ourselves. I am Lord Beckett, current master of Port Royale, in the service of His Majesty the King of England."

He gave a short head nod,

"And this is Commodore James Norrington."

James gave no recognition of his name being said; his eyes simply stared into the wall with rage.

Beckett looked to the lad expectantly, and for a moment, it seemed as though the boy wasn't going to say anything. Luckily he caught on,

"Oh, I am-well, that is-they call me…um…"

He suddenly realized that, with his true name, they might track him down again.

"Samuel."

"Just Samuel?"

Sam nodded, not wanting to lie, but also refusing to include his last name. There were many other boy his age named Samuel.

"I hope regular breakfast tea is to your liking, Sam."

Beckett rung the bell for the afternoon tea. After five minutes, a maid came in with a service for three. As she poured the tea, a deafening roar erupted from the marina. Frightened, she nearly dropped the teapot.

Looking around, Sam asked what everyone in the room was wondering,

"What was that?"