Will began telling his story as he sharpened his sword. Jack tuned out for the beginning, but returned his attention to Will as the sun began to set, "… When I was a lad living in England, my mother raised me by herself. After she died, I came out here, looking for my father."
Jack looked at him, "Is that so?"
Will paused before beginning, "My father, Will Turner." He turned to face Jack, who had his eyes closed. "At the jail, it was only after you learned my name that you agreed to help. Since that's what I wanted, I didn't press the matter." He stood up and walked over to Jack, "I'm not a simpleton, Jack. You knew my father."
Jack remained quiet for a moment before replying, "I knew 'im. Probably one of the few who knew him as William Turner. Everyone else just called him Bootstrap or Bootstrap Bill."
"Bootstrap," Will repeated, looking confused. That didn't sound like a sailor's nickname at all.
"Good man. Good pirate. I swear, you look just like him," Jack said quickly, giving Will a smirk.
Will's temper flared, "It's not true. He was a merchant sailor. A good, respectable man who obeyed the law."
Jack raised an eyebrow, "He was a bloody pirate, a scallywag."
"My father was not a pirate," Will insisted, pulling out his sword and pointing it at Jack.
Jack looked at the sword, then at Will, and back out to the sea, "Put it away, son. It's not worth you getting beat again."
"You didn't' beat me. You ignored the rules of engagement. In a fair fight, I'd killed you."
Jack laughed, "Then that's not much incentive for me to fight fair, then, is it?" He paused before turning the wheel sharply to the left, causing one of the yards to catch Will, and swing him out over the sea. "Now, as long as you're just hanging there, pay attention. The only rules that really matter are these- what a man can do, and what a man can't do. For instance, you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man, or you can.t But pirate is in your blood, boy, so you'll have to square with that someday. Now, me, for example, I can let you drown but I can't bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesy, savvy?"
He walked back to wheel, and turned it sharply to the right, moving the yard back so that Will could land on the ship. Jack picked up Will's abandoned sword and offered the handle to him. "So, can you sail under the command of a pirate? Or can you not?" Just then, Jack felt the cold steel of a blade at the small of his back. "Welcome back, love," he said.
"I wake up and the first thing I see is you hanging Will over the sea?" she replied, sheathing her sword. "Tortuga?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at Jack, who turned to face her.
Will and she followed Jack back to the wheel, where he took his usual stance. "Tortuga," he nodded.
"How long till we get there?" Charlotte asked, looking at Will with concern.
"A day," Jack replied.
Charlotte nodded before looking at Will, "Get some sleep. You look dead on your feet right now. And there's no way you'd be able to take on a fish in a fight."
Will nodded and gave her a small kiss on the top of the head, "Alright, I'm going." She watched as he walked down the stairs and trudged below.
She and Jack remained quiet for a few moments before he spoke. "Now, I know Will's story, but what about yours love? There must be a few differences, aye?"
Charlotte stood on the other side of the wheel, opposite Jack. "It pretty much is the same story, but with a few different chapters."
"Come on love, what are those chapters?" Jack pressed; he knew it wouldn't take long for him to get the story. He watched as the night's winds whipped her hair around her face, but her eyes continued to shine, like treasure in the darkness.
Charlotte paused before speaking, "You tell me your story- the entire thing, and I'll tell you all of mine." She glanced back into the pitch black of the night, before facing him, "we have the time."
"You have an accord," said Jack, shaking her hand. "But you first," he added.
Charlotte smirked, "As I expected. Well, I was the second child born to John and Alice Beckett," she caught the look of shock in Jack's eyes, "I had an older brother, named Cutler. As in Cutler Beckett."
"You're related to Beckett?" Jack said, looking her up and down as he often did. "May I say that you two look absolutely nothing alike. Not that I can testify to that, but if you give me the chance to look a little more closely-" he stopped after catching the look on her face. "Sorry" he folded his hands, "continue, love.
"When I was five my house got raided, by . . . Pirates" she looked at Jack, who simply nodded. "They- uh- killed my parents. I don't really remember much, but there was a lot of blood. After that, I was in the charge of Beckett."
"Why don't you just call him your brother?" Jack asked innocently.
"As far as I'm concerned he is certainly not my family. He found a maid, brought us to Port Royal, where he got a job with the East India Trading Company. A few days after we'd gotten here, he turned to me and said 'I'll be back in a few days. Promise.'
She paused, "that was over ten years ago. And over those ten years, I never got a single shred of evidence that he even remembered me. But I was a child, and like a child, I continued to write letters to him, until I realized there was no point. I stopped writing to him when I was ten. It was a complete waste of money, which I didn't have much of to begin with. So I took my mother's last name as my own, and made sure no one could make the connection. When I was thirteen, my maid died, and I raised myself. I got some help though, from Elizabeth, and her father Governor Swann. It was then that I met Will, and we became friends. I wasn't nobility, and I didn't have the hindrance of parents telling me what I could and could not do. So I took it upon myself to learn how to handle a sword, how to fight, and survive. Will and I would exchange tips, and spend most of our time together. We'd talk about how we would go out and see the world, but I always thought it would never happen for me. I'm a woman, so it wasn't seen as proper, I was supposed to be content sitting at home. But if the day ever came that I was offered that chance, I'd take it. And one day, Elizabeth fell off of a battlement, got saved by a pirate," here she nodded to Jack, "and you know the rest."
Jack was quiet for a moment, "But why did you come on this adventure. You said women were supposed to sit at home."
Charlotte shivered as the cold wind crept up her spine, "Ever since I got to Port Royal, I wanted out. I hated that island. I met Will and Elizabeth, who are practically my only family, but . . . I wanted to explore the world." She walked over to the railing, and looked at the pitch-black sea, her knuckles going white from the force with which she held the rail.
Jack left the wheel, and joined her, standing against her back and placing his hands over hers. "There's more to this, love" he whispered into her ear.
"I want to find my brother," she whispered.
"And when you do?" Jack asked, knowing full well what the answer would be.
Charlotte turned around so the pair was face to face. She looked him in the eyes, "I'm going to kill him."
Jack raised an eyebrow, "Bit over dramatic, don't you agree?" he asked.
Charlotte smirked, "This is coming from the man who carried around the same pistol with a single shot for ten years, vowing only to use it on the man who committed a mutiny against him." Her hair whipped around her face, but he was sure that she'd just winked at him.
Jack was shocked once more, "How do you know about that?" he whispered.
"People talk, Jack. And often times, they do so when others are present to listen," she replied smartly, resting her back on the railing.
Jack brushed Charlotte's hair behind her ear and smirked, "That is debatable. I talk to myself all the time."
"Yes, but you aren't exactly 'normal' Jack," Charlotte quipped. Jack placed his other hand on her waist and began to pull her towards him. She quickly slipped out from where Jack had pinned her by the railing, and walked over to the wheel, placing her hands on it, for the feeling of having something to do. "What about your story Jack? Surely there's some reason why you want to accompany us." She turned to face him.
He stood there for a few moments, simply staring at her before responding, "I have my reasons."
"And airing them out was part of our deal, remember?" she replied, giving him a knowing look. "And you'd better hold up your end of the bargain, before I do to you what you did to Will."
Jack looked down and noticed he was standing in the perfect position to get flung over the rail, like he'd done to poor William earlier that day. "Fine, have it your way then."
He sauntered over to her and shooed her out of the way, placing his hands on the wheel once more. She stood in front of the wheel as she'd done before. He paused and gave her a hard look before saying, "I tell you this in confidence."
"As did I," she replied with a curt nod, "Now spit it out Sparrow."
He smiled, looking past her shoulder. "My father is Edward Teague, keeper of the Brethren Code. I was born during a typhoon, and I grew up in a house full of outlaws at Shipwreck Cove. I was determined in following my father's footsteps, and wanted to become the captain of a ship. Which is why I insist on being called 'Captain'."
"I call you Jack, and you don't seem to mind," Charlotte said pointedly.
"Yes, well, different rules apply," he said hurriedly. "Anyway, I decided I had enough serving on my father's ship, so I ran away, because according to the Pirata Codex, I could do that." He gave her a toothy grin, before continuing, "I like to be thorough. I was a stowaway on a merchant ship to Tortuga-"
Charlotte interrupted, "We'll save some of your exploits in case we come though any downtime, but how is it you know my brother Jack. Word reached my ears many years ago that a certain Captain" here she nodded to him, "paid my brother great insult. How?"
Jack smirked, "A woman who likes to cut to the chase. How refreshing," he said. "Well, I was granted a ship called the Wicked Wench from your brother, after I refused to transport slaves. Your brother was the director for the East India Trading Company for West Africa. After a few years, I was sent on a trip, and during that trip I landed on an island that would had been enslaved by your brother, had I not refused to tell him its location. He found out, and claimed that I had betrayed him. In return, he forced me to carry slaves. I freed them on that same island, and when your brother caught me, I was tossed into prison. After a few months in a cell, your brother forced me to be branded with this," he raised his right forearm, and pushed the sleeve back so she could see the 'P' branded in his skin. "Eventually I was freed, managed to get my way back out and found the Wicked Wench, which I re-commandeered, and used to pick up a crew in Tortuga, to help me find the Isla de Muerta. Lo and behold, my first mate makes me give up the bearings, and orchestrates a mutiny against me. I was left on an island to die the very next day, with-" he pulled out his pistol, "one shot."
Charlotte stood there, absorbing the story, "Sounds completely horrible. And It thought I was trapped."
Jack smirked, "You were trapped on an island full of people, yet you felt alone." He walked round the wheel until he was next to her, "I was alone on an empty island, with a full mind."
"Damned either way," Charlotte murmured.
"Exactly," said Jack, with a faint smile. He quickly descended the stairs, and went below, leaving Charlotte alone with her thoughts for several minutes. She was just about to go check on him, when he returned, two bottles in hand. "Rum?" he asked.
Charlotte nodded; glad to have something to fill her empty stomach. Jack pulled the cork out with his teeth and passed her the bottle. She took a small sip and felt the liquid burn her throat, but warm her up instantly. In the amount of time it took for her to finish a quarter of the bottle, Jack had drank his and was pulling out yet another.
"How much rum do we have left?" she asked.
"Six or seven more bottles, besides these" Jack replied, leaning ever so slightly on the wheel.
"Maybe we- and that is to say you- ought to slow it down. We don't want to finish it all in one go. Just in case it takes us a little longer to get to Tortuga," she said, her voice tense.
"The tone in your voice makes me think you aren't remotely excited to go to Tortuga," Jack speculated.
She gave him a look, "It's all pirates."
"Your parents?" he asked.
"That and the fact that I've never met one. Except for you, of course," she stated plainly.
"Do you plan on going back to Port Royal if you manage to find your friend?" Jack asked suddenly, drawing nearer to her.
Charlotte bit her lip, "I- I haven't thought about what I was going to do. I've just been focused on getting Elizabeth back."
"Freedom's good love, but you have to be sure that you can handle all that comes with it. Including the company of pirates," he said, coming even closer.
Charlotte could smell the alcohol on his breath, "Maybe you should go lie down. I'll steer the ship." She watched Jack, but there didn't seem to be a difference in his movements, which made Charlotte debate whether he was always drunk, or was immune to rum.
Jack laughed, "Do you know which way we're going?" Charlotte shook her head, "Well, if you're steering then we're definitely going to have to ration the rum."
Charlotte looked outraged and amused, "Fine." She crossed her arms, "then teach me how to steer a ship, Captain."
Jack nearly spat out his rum,"You want to learn how to steer a ship?" he asked.
Charlotte nodded, "We have the time, it is a short course, and you don't seem to be drunk enough not to teach me."
Jack paused, his lips pursed. "I'll teach you, on one condition."
"What is that condition?" Charlotte asked, suspicious.
"You have to kiss me, agreed?" he replied, quite happy with his condition.
Charlotte nodded, "agreed." She walked up to him and placed a small kiss on his cheek. "You failed to specify where," she added, ignoring his confused look.
"You'd make a good pirate. Better than the whelp," he replied. He grabbed her hand and pulled her over to the wheel, placing her hands on the wheel, and his hands over hers. He rested his head on her shoulder and began giving directions. "Now, love, this is where it gets tricky."
