A/N: So, I struggled in writing this chapter. I would love any feedback you may have on what I could improve, what you'd like to see, and what you've enjoyed so far. As always, I own nothing you recognize, and probably far less than that :)

NOTE: An earlier version of this chapter ended with them getting on The Black Pearl. I thought about this over and over, since it went against my original plan. Since a lot of what I've written depends on them not boarding with Jack and Elizabeth, I have changed the last paragraph. No need to read this chapter again if you already have, I'll just post the new addition into the next as well. The paragraph that was deleted was:

"It suddenly looked very much like Elizabeth and Norrington would be boarding The Black Pearl, and Isabella bit her lip in thought. Ignoring Elizabeth and Jack admiring a strange compass, Isabella bargained with one Mr. Gibbs and joined the pirate crew.

Her father would kill her."


It had been almost eight years since the day Isabella had gotten to show off her new dress in Port Royal, and still every time that they made port there again, Captain Murdoch acted as if he expected his daughter to elope with any of the Navy men that dared give her a glance.

Oh yes, she had come back waxing lyrical, in the way of all children who suddenly know how the world will be, about the dashing lieutenant and how she absolutely must marry a man in the Navy someday.

Even now, as the Faodail's crew glided smoothly into Port Royal's harbor, Captain Murdoch was uncharacteristically twisting his hat in his hands, and looking for all the world like Port Royal held his death sentence—and not simply supplies and coin from their latest cargo.

Isabella noticed her father's distress, how could she not, and with a bit of an amused eye roll, she decided to try and set him at ease.

"Papa, you look troubled." Isabella said with a quirk of her lips. She reached out and attached herself to his arm affectionately. "Is this about the Navy? Still?"

Captain Murdoch looked uncomfortable. "Well, lass, you're nearly twenty years…and I know that young women might like to settle down, I know you don't want to be on the ship with me forever, and…"

Isabella couldn't help herself and laughed. "Papa! I'm not going anywhere, not yet at least. I love sailing with you, you know that. Besides, I'm not just going to randomly meet someone and jump ship. I was twelve! All young girls let their minds get ahead of them at that age."

Murdoch looked as if he had just realized he was being foolish, although he thought the girl still did let her mind get ahead of her. With a slight grin he put his arm around his daughter and said, "Well, you are right. We're only here for a day or so, and I'm sure I can I put the respect of the Lord in any young men until we set sail."

Isabella's relationship with her father was strong, and she knew the man couldn't help but feel protective over his only child. She was just happy that when she needed independence most, her father was more than willing to trust in his daughter's abilities.


A bit later, Isabella Murdoch leaned over the rail of the ship, content to let the sea air caress her long chestnut tresses while she watched the crew lay anchor. Her eyes passed over many sails representing the East India Trading Company, but took no further notice.

Womanhood had brought with it the gift of curves, although she would never be as blessed as most. In fact, Isabella had grown into a slender young lady, whose slight form was well-suited to climbing the rigging of ships, and swinging lithe as a cat onto enemy decks that dared attempt a boarding.

Her father was a bit concerned about this last, as Isabella was much too friendly for warfare. She didn't seem to have an innate sense of suspicion about people, although her judge of character had proved to be sturdy. Yes, Captain Murdoch had encouraged his daughter's love of books, but he worried now that the girl's practicality had suffered.

Isabella had been blessed with a feminine face, but the rest of her form was very easily hidden underneath the men's breeches, white tunic, and grey overcoat she now wore. If she tied up her hair and dirtied her face, she just might have been able to pass for a very pretty lad.

Perhaps this was why she later so easily recognized another woman trying to hide in boyish attire.

A day had passed, the ship had been loaded, Isabella had made her errands in town, and now the crew was ready to cast off.

Isabella figured there was no harm in checking over the cargo once more (last time, someone had forgotten to tie down a crate of wine and the captain had been quite incensed), and so brought herself lightly down into the hold. She was thinking about the future, and her conversation earlier with her father. It was true, most people wanted to find a companion and settle down, but what did she want?

Isabella imagined herself years from now. Why couldn't she have the sea and a husband? They could sail together and strike down those who would do evil upon the seas. The ocean had been her home for as long as she could remember, and perhaps she could be content to stay on land for a year or two—but certainly not forever!

So lost in her thoughts was she, that it gave her quite the fright when she suddenly careened right into another person. Both latched onto the other to stay standing, and Isabella furrowed her brows in confusion at the person in front of her. They were dressed in men's attire, but they were quite obviously a woman. A glance behind the woman was even more puzzling. There, discarded on a crate, was a wedding dress!

Having followed Isabella's facial expression as she put the pieces together, the woman shoved her away with a threatening look.

Isabella hastily extended her arms. "Whoa, let's calm down. I'm not here to hurt you, and I'd like to assume that you're not here to hurt me. Are you trying to be a stowaway?"

The other woman narrowed her eyes, and Isabella sighed.

"Okay, listen, my name's Isabella. I'm a member of this crew, and if your intentions are honorable, I could always say I hired you on before we left. I've no stomach to see anyone hauled back to port, and our captain is a good man-he won't care if you're a lady or not."

Isabella knew how tough it could be for women on land, and if this one wanted to escape from Port Royal, then she was determined to help. She just hoped that the girl wasn't a pirate set out to kill them all, but they'd cross that bridge if they arrived at it—although a pirate with that fancy of a gown would have been an odd sight indeed.

The other woman squared her shoulders, as if coming to a decision.

"I'm Elizabeth," she said carefully, "and I'm only looking for passage."

Isabella nodded, brushing her hair back from her eyes. "Okay, Elizabeth. Let's take your dress to my cabin, tuck up your hair a bit better, and then I'll introduce you to the captain. He'll help you in any way that he can, I'm sure." With a wink she added, "He is my father, after all."

The two women had managed to slip into Isabella's cabin unseen, stow the dress, and head back up on deck with very little fuss. Isabella knocked politely before the women entered the captain's quarters.

Captain Murdoch took the news of a woman stowaway-turned crew with very little drama. However, the Murdochs agreed it may be best if Elizabeth's identity as a woman were kept between them for now, as they had just brought on some new hands they couldn't be entirely sure of. After all, if anyone had questions, they could always come see the captain himself. If Elizabeth seemed surprised at the welcome, she didn't show it. Perhaps this woman was used to making unusual allies.

"So, Miss Elizabeth," Captain Murdoch said with cheer, "tell us your story, and we'll see what we can do."

Elizabeth gave them a small smile, and proceeded to do exactly that. After the tales of Lord Cutler Beckett's cruelty, and the terrible bargain that Elizabeth and her fiancé had found themselves in, Captain Murdoch found he had no choice but to take the girl to Tortuga. He liked to hope that if his daughter were ever in trouble, others would lend her a hand as well. In any case, with the East India Trading Company's new reach, business would have been challenging at the other ports anyway.

It was decided that they would hang another hammock in Isabella's cabin for Elizabeth, and so after a bit of settling in, the girls found themselves taking their evening meal together in their shared quarters.

Isabella was always quite chatty, and she hoped Elizabeth wouldn't mind too much as she probed curiously, "So you mentioned your fiancé, Will. Tell me about him."

Elizabeth smiled softly, "Will is brave… and kind. He's the one who taught me how to wield a sword." Then she added conspiratorially, "and you know, I'm quite good at it."

Isabella laughed, "Oh, good, because I'm rubbish with a blade. Smaller ones, like daggers, are fine. Real swords, though? They make me feel clumsy. The blade I have now is the best I can do." Isabella pointed across the room to a long dagger in its sheath. "It's long enough to parry a sword usually, but lets me move more freely in a battle."

Elizabeth smiled, "maybe Will could make a sword that's easier to handle—he's a blacksmith."

Isabella nodded happily, "I'll have to come visit his shop when this is all over. A blacksmith," she teased, "with all of the Navy in Port Royal, I would have thought you'd marry a sailor."

Elizabeth gave a small grimace. "Actually, I was engaged to one for a while."

Neither of the women had ever had close female friends like this, and were quite enjoying themselves.

"Oh, come now! You can't leave it like that. There's clearly a story there," Isabella urged.

Elizabeth looked off in thought. She began with telling her about the Commodore's proposal and her plummet from the cliff. After detailing kidnappings, curses, and being stranded on an island with Captain Jack Sparrow, she finally resolved her story with sigh. "James Norrington, one of the greatest men I've ever known. But, he's not a commodore anymore. After he freed me from our engagement, he lost his ship in a hurricane and resigned his post."

Isabella's eyes had gone wide at recognizing the name. This simply had to be the same naval man she'd met all those years ago. It had been clear from Elizabeth's story that she had humiliated the Commodore. Despite finding the story incredibly sad, and wanting to know what had happened to Norrington, she kept it to herself. Instead she said, "Captain Jack Sparrow? The pirate? You know, he's the only pirate our captain genuinely likes. I think it's because Sparrow never really hurts people the way other pirates do."

Suddenly, it seemed that Elizabeth liked the Murdochs that much more.


When the Faodail docked in the seedy port of Tortuga, the women set forth to search for any sign of Will Turner. The two had bonded in their shared time aboard Captain Murdoch's ship, and so Elizabeth was happy to allow Isabella to accompany her.

The lights flickered along the pathway, and somewhere down an alley they could hear a dog barking. They passed dirty street urchins and people in all manners of dress. It was hard to tell if some of the people had simply stolen the better items of clothing, or if it was reflective of their fall from grace.

Elizabeth was still dressed as a man, but Isabella left her hair down and kept her same breeches and overcoat. Isabella wasn't overly concerned about being noticed as a woman. Her crew would be milling about in Tortuga, and there were quite a few pirates and other types here that knew and respected her father. Captain Murdoch's station in the world was an odd one, to say the least.

The pair traveled through dingy streets, and despite having been here several times before, Isabella nearly lost her stomach at the powerful stench of the place. She forced herself to breathe through her mouth, and tried to take in their surroundings. Up ahead they could hear the loud sounds voices and music that signaled they were nearing the place's tavern.

The amount of people running around firing their pistols in apparent celebration, or rather intoxication, had Isabella ready to jump out of her skin. Really! They must be more careful with those things! Isabella thought to herself, as she lightly shoved past a rather portly man swaying with pistol in hand.

Drawing closer into the dim glow of the lights within, they heard a raised voice, British English starkly apparent, "So am I worthy to serve under Captain Jack Sparrow?"

Elizabeth and Isabella rushed forward at hearing the familiar name. The girls arrived just in time to see the owner of the voice raise a pistol toward their pirate acquaintance, "Or should I just kill you now?"

Elizabeth gasped, "It's James."

Isabella knew from the man's tattered Naval coat and ridiculously frayed wig just who she was referring to. Isabella knew a moment of despair seeing him this way.

They missed the rest of the conversation. It happened too fast for Isabella to take it all in, but suddenly a pistol was fired and a massive brawl exploded through the place. She and Elizabeth ducked just in time to miss the stool that went sailing over their heads.

They saw Norrington pull his blade, and with a nod to each other, the women unsheathed their own weapons and joined the fray at his side.

A man came barreling toward her and, hesitant to use her blade, Isabella sunk her fist into the man's nose with a crack. As the man spiraled away, she shook her hand with a hiss, trying desperately not to wonder if the crack had been her bones or his-especially as she felt the blood dripping from her hand.

Resolutely, Isabella decided she would use the back of her blade if she had to, but she would not be throwing any more punches.

Isabella could see Elizabeth sword fighting marvelously on her left, and Norrington doing a passable job of staying upright in his drunken state.

In a sudden lull of the fighting, they found themselves surrounded. Norrington's bold claims of taking them all on had her mind doing somersaults trying to reconcile this man with the one she'd met eight years prior.

Elizabeth suddenly lunged forward, bottle in hand. Isabella could only gape in shock as her friend downed the bedraggled former Commodore.

Isabella hoped her friend had only done that to spare the man a sword in his belly.

She then watched sadly as the tavern's inhabitants picked up the poor man. When they began carrying him outside, she rushed to try and stop them. They were going to throw him in the pig sty!

Isabella darted forward, ahead of the crowd with a protest on her lips, as they released their cargo, "Now, hold on-" Unfortunately, the "cargo" careened right into her on his way to the mud, and Isabella found herself mired in the stuff. She'd had her breath knocked out of her by half of Norrington's body landing on her, and as she tried to inhale, the stench quickly made her wish she hadn't.

Isabella groaned as she lifted an arm to see that the mud clung to her, and briefly had a thought toward the cut on her hand. Would it become infected? The pigs came over to investigate, and she glared at them.

Elizabeth stepped forward, a look of surprise on her face. Both women looked over to the mud covered man. Still noticing he hadn't lifted his head, Isabella reached forward and pushed him up gently by the shoulder as Elizabeth crouched to help.

Norrington turned his face toward them and the sight of mud caking his face made both women disconcerted. They stared into the eyes of a man who had clearly hit rock bottom. The pain there shook Isabella to the core. He seemed surprised to see Elizabeth, once he recognized her, but he didn't speak. The women each grabbed an arm and hauled the man to his feet.

Noticing his mud-drenched companion, the man said briefly, "Thank you." Norrington didn't elaborate, so Isabella didn't know whether he had meant for trying to keep him from being thrown, or for helping him up. She didn't ask, but merely smiled.

No one noticed they were being watched.

The trio made their way to the docks, Elizabeth intent on finding Captain Jack Sparrow, which they did with relative ease. As Elizabeth and Jack were bantering/negotiating, Isabella was awkwardly patting the back of her smelly companion as he spewed his stomach's contents into the sea. To be fair, she reckoned that as far as the pig smell went, she and Norrington were equally smelly.

Suddenly thinking of the water canteen at her waist, she had a momentary wince at the thought of vomit and pig's mud, before uncapping it and pressing it into Norrington's hand. He gave her a momentary glance that she liked to think was in thanks, but he nevertheless took a hearty gulp. He kept the canteen in hand when she politely waved away his attempts at returning it.

Isabella resolutely ignored any jabs between Norrington and Jack Sparrow that ensued, figuring that there was a history between the two she knew nothing about.

It suddenly looked very much like Elizabeth and Norrington would be boarding The Black Pearl, and Isabella bit her lip in thought-formulating a plan. She couldn't imagine the former Commodore on that ship, no matter what state the man was in now. Besides, it wasn't like her father would consent for her to join the pirate crew as well. No, she needed another way...