This is another companion to my story News of Home. It wasn't meant to be written but was actually inspired by a comment I received in a review, about Elizabeth and her crew. (Thanks, littlelights!). Throughout the two earlier stories, I did have an idea of what Elizabeth relationship with the crew was, but it didn't occur to me to flesh that out. So, this is my attempt to do that.

And, again, a very heartfelt thanks to everyone who has sent me feedback. It is so appreciated. Thank you so much.

Loyalty Down Fosters Loyalty Up – Anonymous

Loyalty Down, Loyalty Up

She had been on the beach for two days when the Empress arrived. Hungry, dirty, and, more than anything, miserable, she had done nothing but sit in the sand and watch the waves, waiting for sunset. On that last morning Elizabeth had resigned herself to the fact that she had to either die there, or begin the hike to the town on the other side of the cliff wall.

Dying was looking uncommonly appealing.

However, a little row boat landed in the sand that morning, carrying just the Empress' first mate. He jumped out, very matter-of-fact, and ushered her into the boat. When pressed, he simply said that he was there to get his captain.

They were silent for most of the trip back to the Empress. The only thing he said: "Our captain stays with her crew and her crew stays with their captain."

She decided that, pirates or no, they were good men.

Once on board, she was ushered into Sao-Feng's old cabin. Elizabeth cleaned up the best she could and changed into the clothes that had been set aside, leftover from her first adventure there. She did, however, add pants.

Elizabeth was no idiot—a year or two bumming around on pirate ships does not make you a sailor. She was careful not to tell them their business when it came to the sails or the rigging--but they always looked to her for the heading. They knew how to handle the ship and she knew how to lead them.

They were somewhere near Africa when the hurricane hit. The Empress held up, but two of the crew was lost in the waves. Elizabeth did her best to help, although most of the time she was in the way. Despite that, she gained a little more respect from the men. They were grateful for her faith in them to bring them through and awed by her willingness to get her hands dirty.

Obviously, they had not sailed with Elizabeth Turner for long.

The next few days were spent in repair and memorial for the two lost men. It was then that her decision was made. If Jack Sparrow could sack forts without firing a single shot, certainly she could do the same. She had spent most of her youth dreaming up schemes to trick her father into giving her her way, whether it was a new dress or a day of skipped lessons. On more than one occasion she had evaded every servant under orders to watch her and snuck into town.

She tried not to think about those afternoons at the blacksmith shop.

She had to have enough cunning to manage a life of crime. She felt she had done pretty well, so far, even on a few occasions outwitting legends like Jack and Barbossa. She could do this; she could be a great pirate and not lose the crew.

And so it began. Planning and plotting replaced the cannons and gunfire. They had enough money to buy favors in a lot of ports—Sao-Feng was a great pirate, after all. And they made quite a profit in supplies and goods. It was soon after the first success that Elizabeth realized she was with child.

She managed to keep it a secret for as long as possible. She continued to work the ship and plan the assaults. Finally, she admitted that there was no way around it—she couldn't hide it anymore. She and the first mate decided that it was no longer safe, or suitable to stay on board. With a heavy heart, she told him to bring her back to the island—their island. A pirate's life was no longer for her.

Twelve months later, while walking around her house, carrying a fussy nine-month-old in her arms, the maid came rushing in from town. She told her mistress that the Pirate King's ship was at port. The entire unlawful town was aflutter. What a treat to this humdrum place with just ordinary bandits running about!

Not long after, she re-boarded her ship, watching the already toddling boy grow accustomed to the rock of the boat. Her crew had spent the year in Singapore with their families, following her advice to lay low. When the wind turned, they returned to retrieve their captain once more.

Good men, all of them.

And so it began. Nine months at sea, three on their island. She planned raids while teaching her son to add and subtract. At two, he learned to swim in the shores of Spain. The crew taught him to read the stars and predict the weather with the colors of the sky and sea. Everyday Elizabeth was reminded of the young boy she helped rescue from the ocean so many years ago. Will's son looked just like him—especially his eyes.

Everyday, usually more than once, she would tell him a story about his father. She explained to him why his father couldn't be with them yet. Elizabeth told him stories of daring rescues and exciting swordfights. "Your father is a hero," she would tell him.

She also made sure to tell the tales of her youth, a youth before pirates. Her son was just as enraptured with the tales about their lives in Port Royal as he was with the stories of the Pearl. He loved to hear about the foot races in the sand and their explorations of Port Royal. She told him how after her coming-out, Will had to stop calling her by her first name. "At least he thought so," she said with a wistful smile. And at every port stop, he would insist that his mother take him to the local blacksmith shop. He would ask her if the work was as good as his father's.

Of course it never quite lived up.

Also, Elizabeth wrote in a journal nearly every day. She didn't want Will to miss out on any more than he had already. She wrote of the day their son tried to climb the mast and by a sheer miracle landed in the water rather than on the deck. She told him about the crew teaching him swear words and the punishments meted out to all parties—including the junior pirate in their midst. Elizabeth wrote about how excited he was to meet his father, how he would ask questions and request stories every day, no matter how old he grew. She told him about the trips to the blacksmith shops and how much he looked just like his father.

When she had been back on the Empress for two years, she decided to begin her search. The more she thought of it, the more plausible it seemed. The Pearl had crossed from one world into another; why couldn't something else? There was no way to contact her husband, but surely he could reach out to her. If she sailed to those places where the Dutchman was sure to be, then eventually she would find a sign from Will. Elizabeth was sure of it.

Her sign eventually came in the shape of a sword. Her son spotted it floating in a box among the wreckage of a ship; Elizabeth grinned ear to ear when she saw the III inscribed in the wood, right after the initials W.T.

The years passed. Jack occasionally joined them, whenever his ship had been stolen out from under him. And Barbossa joined them whenever Jack stole it back. She refused to choose sides in the never-ending debate but welcomed them both with open arms and a wary mindset.

The pirate lords met in Singapore once every two years; she made sure to call councils more often than once a lifetime. She knew better than anyone what the British Navy was capable of and she knew that the pirate's life continued to be in danger. They discussed options, ways to prolong the freedom that came with this life. However, they all knew that their plans were nothing more than a temporary bandage. Although, with that sad thought came the pride of being the last of their kind. Even soldiers didn't live by honorable codes these days; it was a good legacy to leave behind.

In year nine, when the Empress returned them to their island, Elizabeth knew it would be the last time. She handed the Empress over to the control of the first mate. He had stood by her all these years and had been her most loyal companion. Despite her willingness to work, her trust in his judgment, her dedication to the welfare of the crew, and her overall good humor, Elizabeth never quite understood how she inspired such fidelity.

He just smiled and said that she stayed with her crew, and her crew would stay with her. And if the Pirate King, for that is what she would remain, ever needed their aid, he would return as quickly as he was able.

The boy passed among the crew, saying his tearful good-byes. However, he knew that it was time to begin a new life. He looked forward to showing his father all he had learned on the Empress. They would live in their island house and their maid would cook all of his father's favorite foods and his father would teach him to swordfight.

And, if they ever tired of life on land, he knew that they had more than enough money to sail the seas once again.

So, the two Turners left the Empress and sat in the sand, watching it sail into the horizon. Elizabeth felt tears trailing down her cheeks and wiped away the matching drops from her son's face. But by mutual agreement, they began the trek back to their house beyond the cliff.

After all, they only had two months to get it ready for Will.