Epilogue

Beautiful ship danced on the water in a stream of sunlight like she was celebrating new found freedom and dreamt of jumping off the anchor to experience it to the full extent by racing the waves. At least James imagined she did as he watched her, still in disbelief that this magnificent creation now belonged to him. So would the rest of the fortune formerly belonging to Admiral Norrington was soon to be passed to his son – Yorkshire promised. James was grateful to have the support he never imagined to receive, but of all the possessions, he cherished his father's ship the most.

With an effort James dragged his eyes away as Beatrice touched his elbow, subtly drawing his attention towards a prisoner escorted between two soldiers. Lord Beckett in spite of a house arrest for the past week acted like those soldiers were taking him to the captain's cabin rather than the brig. He brushed past James' party like they were irrelevant pests. Yorkshire didn't like that. At his gesture the soldiers forced the prisoner to a halt.

"I do not envy you, Mr Beckett," Yorkshire deliberately dropped the title like he was certain it was all but lost. "A murder case hangs above you that could only lead to tribunal. Admiral Norrington was a hero known in London. I do not envy you mistreating his only son and heir. All of this will be framed by ill recommendations from me personally."

"Heroism and noble blood have been things of value in the past," Beckett stated like he was talking to a man doomed to lose because he was stuck in the past. "You will find there are more powerful factors influencing the society."

"Money you mean," said Yorkshire disdainfully. "I hope it will buy you all the comfort you need with my crew to whom loyalty still means something during a three month voyage to London one of my ships will undertake. You will spend them in the brig only to be taken to trial."

"How unpleasant," said Beckett, referring to their entire conversation, which he intended to end like it was his prerogative. "I hope to see you one day." Two soldiers none too gently motioned him forward at Yorkshire's command. Regardless of the bravado, it was doubtful the former Lord will escape trial without major loses. Even if he escaped imprisonment, it would take him years to recover the position of power.

Contrary to Beckett, James hoped to never see former relations again. He moved away from Edmund and Edward as far away as the island allowed, though his former stepbrothers now feared him and also wished to keep distance. They were waiting for a ship that would take them away from Port Royal back to England where they had to follow several instructions left by their father.

"What do you plan to do now that you're free, Mr Norrington?" the duke asked. He hoped it may something to do with the sea for James was a lot like his father. He sensed unrest in the nearest future where his country would greatly benefit from such men.

"I'll return to England where I can continue my education and reach the lieutenant's rank," James didn't disappoint. "It will also be easier to get information about the trial proceeding from there."

"You already can command your ship," Beatrice pointed out.

"I want to be a real Captain," he explained, "not just in name."

She looked very pretty indeed and James suddenly felt an unpleasant pang that he will not see her once he leaves Port Royal.

"The Endeavour is a great ship," Yorkshire approved. "She will benefit from a fine Captain."

"And I would like to visit you in London to check your progress," said Beatrice. "We will be returning to England in a few months."

"Please visit me whenever it's convenient for you," James responded quickly much to Yorkshire's secret approval who hadn't forgotten the ball's original purpose.

The duke pretended to be admiring the ship as Beatrice threw a suspicious look at him as if she suddenly sensed his thoughts.

"I don't think the Endeavour will keep this name," James continued. "It's too materialistic and I admit I don't want to sail under a name made up by Lord Beckett."

"What will it be then?" asked Beatrice.

James regarded the ship thoughtfully. A smile crept up as he saw Groves, freed from the brig, strutting around the deck he patrolled like he had always known the ship will be returned to her proper owner. Lieutenant's uniform would suit him well, thought James.

"At first, I wanted to give her the old name back in honor of my father," he confessed, "but in doing so I will always be looking back at the past instead of moving forward."

Life shone with too many beckoning opportunities and happiness. James wanted a name that symbolized his wish for the future, given to him strangely enough by a pirate.

"Human deceit or hurricanes, I don't want any fears to stand in her way," he declared, full of hope. "She will be the Dauntless."


Azure sea lapped sandy shore, erasing dim footprints of the two men walking alongside the water. One with the graying sideburns narrowed his eyes, seeking out a ship with the black sails in the distance, while the other bored him with the intensity of a dark gaze.

"Do you have the map?" Jack inquired directly, rather impatiently, since the later had been avoiding the question. Lieutenant Harris turned out more persistent than he had counted on. Jack's dear wish was to part with the island now that James was the captain like he should be and Beckett was in the bring like Jack always wanted.

"Eerrr," Gibbs offered hopefully, searching the horizon even more intently. "I can say that Beckett doesn't have it."

"Then, logic suggests, unless to the contrary, that you still have the map," Jack prompted.

"Well, you see," Gibbs coughed, "when I got to Port Royal like you told me to, I saw his ship and figured he'd be after our map. So, I hid it where no one would ever think to look."

The captain backed away a step, leaning backwards slightly. "Take you time," he assured, "think very carefully, but a lot faster. Where did you leave it?"

"A girl has it," Gibbs confessed.

"A girl?" Jack asked like a girl was a rare phenomenon that belonged in the fairy world.

"A little girl with freckles on her nose," Gibbs clarified.

Jack tapped his lip and then raised his index finger up like this information just helped him identify map's precise location. "You failed to incorporate common sense into this story," he informed his companion.

Gibbs stared at him for nearly a minute, attempting to decrypt what Jack meant and failed. "But, you made sense of it anyway," he asked hopefully.

Jack slapped his friend's back and motioned them forward onto the next great adventure. "Aye!" he agreed. "I am Captain Jack Sparrow after all!"