Disclaimer: They don't belong to me... if they did, I would be on a deserted island with Jack Sparrow, William Turner and an endless cache of rum...
Author's Note: In my fictions, Will has been released from his curse early, and serves the new captain of the Dutchman as an advisor for the remainder of his ten years. He and he and Elizabeth live upon the Black Pearl, serving with Jack's crew. So it is in my lovely Pirates world. Pirate Cat
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No one quite knew just why Captain Jack Sparrow allowed a harpsichord to be brought aboard the mighty Black Pearl during the raid of a French frigate. Much of what was plundered from this particular ship was sumptuous, indeed, as it was bound from France, bringing the belongings and furnishings of a wealthy French nobleman to his new home as the governor of Martinique. There were silks and brocades to furnish the new governor's mansion, gold and silver tableware, fine crystal, a great deal of good French wine, barrels of fine cheese and other delicacies, and, of all things, a harpsichord. All could bring a decent price in trade for other goods that the Black Pearl would find more useful, but almost all of the crew knew that there was no market for a harpsichord in the illicit marketplaces of the Caribbean.
Jack had simply decided that it might have some worth somewhere, so he ordered that it should be brought aboard his ship and stowed in the hold with the rest of the treasures that could be traded more profitably. Even in his endearing mental flights of fancy since being rescued from the Locker, the crew followed his orders to the letter and did not question his decisions, no matter how cracked his poor mind was... watching him in action with William Turner the Second, their first mate, during the Battle of the Maelstrom at World's End was enough to make them trust their addled captain in just about any endeavor that they undertook.
As evening fell, Elizabeth Turner was rocking her baby upon the main deck, humming a soft lullaby to her curly haired son as she watched the sun begin to slip from the western sky. Her husband, William, was assisting Captain James Norrington upon the ghost ship, The Flying Dutchman, for two weeks, as a part of his own curse being lifted... it was his duty to help, whenever needed, in exchange for the return of his living heart and his mortal life with his wife and son as crew aboard their best friend Jack Sparrow's ship.
This particular evening was beautiful, as the Pearl was hastily making her way toward the small pirate haven of Tortuga, where the ship would be able to slip into the harbor and lay low for a day or so until the French nobleman and his armada would get tired of trying to find them, and finally resign themselves to the fact that they had been raided by the finest pirates that the Caribbean could owe a name to.
Elizabeth smiled to herself, as she was eager for William's return to tell him of the adventure... Jack had simply guided the fastest pirate ship in the Spanish Main directly in between the accompanying ships that were supposed to guard the French frigate, with his colours hoisted and cannons staring at the ship like so many staring iron eyes... the guard ships had no choice but to helplessly let the Pearl slip swiftly between them, boldly, from a behind a palm tree covered sand bar. They were so taken by surprise that they did not even have time to man their own guns... it was truly like as if this pirate ship had appeared out of nowhere, only to disappear in the same manner, as fleet as she was, with the winds billowing in her black sails. It would be a dismal embarassment for the French Navy, and Jack sailed the Pearl flagrantly out of their reach with a flourish of his tricorn and a shining lopsided golden grin.
As the sky began to turn indigo above her head, Elizabeth held her son, Little Will, close to her as he fought off sleep with all of his might. Little Will was a goodnatured four-month-old, now, but he seemed to resist sleep at all costs, and this was one of those evenings. As she continued to rock him in a hammock strung up on the main deck, she suddenly thought that she heard a very strange sound from the hold... the foreign sound of someone playing a clumsy scale of notes upon a harpsichord. She looked up at the helm, where Giles Mullroy was at the ship's wheel... he had heard it also, and he looked down at her with raised eyebrows and a shrug.
Elizabeth placed Little Will in his basket, and went down the stairs to the hold, with a burning candle in her free hand... most of the crew was sitting down for the evening meal in the galley, and she nodded and smiled to Marty, Mr. Pintel, Mr. Cotton and Joshamee Gibbs as they sat at the table that was suspended from ropes to stay level with the movement of the ship. Angus Murtogg and Mr. Ragetti, who was the unofficial cook for the crew, were spooning up a clam stew that almost made Elizabeth stop in her quest for a bowl of what smelled as though it promised a delicious meal, but her curiosity got the best of her. She suspected from his absence who the erstwhile musician might be.
She was right. Sitting upon a crate in front of the harpsichord, was the slender captain, his handsome, dark face deep in concentration, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth, as he carefully picked out note after note with one single delicate finger. Elizabeth smiled affectionately, as the Turners' best friend furrowed his bandana'd brow in consternation, as he seemed to be trying to figure out how to play anything that resembled music.
"Jack?"
The captain jumped with such a start that he gasped, his waist long, trinketed dreadlocks flipping about like a frightened octopus. "Izzy!!! Ye scared me!!!" he placed a hand upon his thin chest, his kohl lined brown eyes round as moons.
"I'm sorry, Jack... I didn't mean to startle you." Elizabeth came down to join him, placing Little Will upon the floor next to her feet, as he looked up at the familiar captain a and smiled, gurgling and kicking his feet happily as Jack grinned back down at him... "Come down t' listen to me virtuoso performance, laddie?"
Elizabeth jokingly pushed Jack over and took a place next to him at the keyboard. "Do you know how to play, Jack? You looked as though you were trying to remember a melody..." she placed her hands delicately over the keys and softly tapped out a few notes.
Jack shrugged and replied in his rum husky voice,"... well... no. I was just wonderin' what it sounded like...I have heard a pipe organ, an' a pianoforte, but I've never heard one o' these..." He paused, as Elizabeth's hands began to slowly play... hesitantly... and then stopped abruptly.
Jack's dark eyes' widened, "Ye know how t' play it! Don't stop!" He then looked at Elizabeth's sad face, as she turned to look at him..."I don't think that I can remember..."
"Oh, come now, Izzy, I think that you know somethin' tha' you are stoppin' at yer fingertips... wot's wrong? Might it have t' do wif rememberin' your father, lass?" Jack asked gently, his head tilting to one side as he studied her.
In truth, Elizabeth Turner was remembering a time long ago, when her father had paid good money for her to learn to play this very instrument, only to have her whine and complain because she hated to practice... she would rather be climbing trees and chasing butterflies through the garden than be stuck in the Governor's Mansion, playing dreary scales...
A coo from her young son brought Elizabeth back to her present company, and it was always times like these that she missed William so much. She sighed and looked at Jack, and said, matter of factly, "I never really learned only one piece very well... I can't even remember the name of it, only that it was written by Johann Sebastion Bach..."
"Who?" The name obviously meant nothing to the captain, who was mostly acquainted with Irish music of his childhood and the many songs of the sea that all sailors knew...many of which were not polite to sing in mixed company, no matter how familiar.
Elizabeth smiled at Jack's frowning face, as he was always a bit peeved when Elizabeth unknowingly goaded him with her obvious education. She remembered this, and hurried to change the subject a bit.
"Your father plays guitar, Jack. I saw him play one at the meeting of the Brethren Court... " She knew right away that this might have been quite the wrong way to ask her friend if he, indeed, knew how to play a guitar.
His face clouded over, and he said, "... I know wot you are wonderin'... no, Izzy, I have no talent for music...my father made tha' plain, once, when I made th' mistake o' tryin' to make a chord on one o' his guitars wifout permission... that was just before he abandoned me f' good..." the silence that took over the candlelit hold was deafening, as they both stared at the keyboard before them.
Elizabeth cleared her throat, and reached over to pat her friend's arm. "I'm sorry, Jack... I didn't mean to..."
"I know," the captain cut her off with a sad smile. He looked at her as if to apologize for being too sensitive..."I know ye didn't."
"Let's see..." Elizabeth placed her hands over the keyboard, again, her cheeks coloring with embarassment at admitting to her defiance at her late father's admonishing her to take fashionable music lessons. Jack noticed her blushing, and smirked a bit... she must have been rebellious at a young age, he thought.
"I have an idea, Jack!" Elizabeth's face broke into a broad grin, as she reached over for his hand. He pulled it away, frowning at her darkly, but she insistantly took his long right index finger and placed it above a single key. "I will play what I can remember of the one melody that I learned, and when I tell you to, you play this one note! We will play a duet!"
"A wot?" Jack grinned back at her, as she nudged him playfully... it was obvious that he knew what a duet was.
As she began, with more than just a few mistakes, she would then look up at the dark pirate captain and nod... he would then lean his head back, with a haughty expression upon his handsome face, and with sparkling eyes, play his one note with as much aplomb as he could muster. Elizabeth laughed, and she continued with the next movement of the piece, as well as she could remember it.
Little Will crowed and kicked his feet as his mother and one of his favorite people in his little world jokingly played as if they were in the finest concert hall in Vienna, instead of a dark cargo hold of a ship. As they muddled their way through, they both began to laugh, as the daughter of an English nobleman and the son of an Irish pirate captain once again found some common ground in the absurdity of a pilfered harpsichord.
And as they completed their concert of one song, Jack Sparrow turned to William's giggling bonnie lass and grinned, "Oi! I wish that William could hear us! Perhaps we should practice, eh? If th' Flyin' Dutchman can have a pipe organ, th' Pearl can have a bloody harpsichord, savvy?"
With a wink to each other, they opened one of the bottles of fine French wine, and drank a merry toast to Johann Sebastion Bach... whoever he was, Jack Sparrow mused to himself with a shrug... and they played their one song... with the captain's one note... into the dark Caribbean night...
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