Disclaimer:  My mom is trying to get me to contact Disney to sell this to them . . .really, I'm not making this up, and it's starting to frighten me . . .if I owned them there wouldn't be this minor (major) problem . . .

AN:  Still bowing to reviewers.  Still praying for family.  Still updating.  Still bloody glad that I have people reading after chapter 19—I was fairly certain that would drive a lot of people off.

A Taste of Misery

Part 22

Will stepped quietly into the house, his gaze automatically locking on the pirate lying, apparently asleep, on the cot.

It had been two weeks since the day that Jack had cut himself, and he had been home for perhaps five hours a night since he had talked with his wife about what had happened.

"He's a pirate!  Pirates don't faint like women at the sight of blood, even their own!"


"Not all women faint at the sight of blood, Will, and is he a pirate at the moment?  Does he look like a pirate?  Does he act like a pirate?"

Will had conceded the points through his silence.

"He's human, Will.  Maybe he's tired of bloodshed.  Maybe, at least for a little while, he wants to forget what a pirate is, what he's done as a pirate.  Give him time, Will."

Will had given up, not wanting to go into the same arguments about why the man didn't have time.

The next day he had begun practically living at the shop.

Elizabeth thought that he was avoiding Jack, avoiding everything that had happened and was happening, but that wasn't entirely true.

And it wasn't as if Elizabeth needed him here.  The maid had stayed on to help with the housework, allowing Elizabeth more time to rest and relax as she grew heavier and heavier with child.

In less than a month now, he would have his first-born.

What the maid didn't do for Elizabeth, the pirate did, still silent and withdrawn, but growing steadily stronger each day.  Anything the women needed done that he was capable of helping with he would.

Perhaps he had been avoiding Jack.  Watching the pirate limp through ordinary housework was something that wrenched at Will's heart.

He had something to show for it, though.

Treading as silently as he could, he moved to stand beside the cot and tossed the wrapped bundle he carried under one arm onto it.

The pirate was instantly awake and staring at him.

"It's a gift, Jack.  Open it."

One eyebrow quirked in curiosity as the man did as he was ordered, carefully untying the string and removing the contents of the package.

Even in its scabbard the sword was a beautiful thing.  The hilt, black with gold filigree twined into the shape of bird in flight, fit snugly into the pirate's hand.

"Draw it, Jack."  Will couldn't conceal the grin of delight on his face as the man did as he was ordered.

A J had been carefully inscribed into the blade, starting a half-inch below the hilt and curling upward for two inches.

"It's still perfectly balanced, Jack, and the inscription doesn't weaken the blade."  The grin faltered as the pirate continued to stare at the blade, no expression apparent on his face.  "It's one of the best blades I've ever made, Jack."

The pirate glanced over at Will and grinned.

Will's heart leapt suddenly.

"Come on, Jack.  Try it out."

The pirate again quirked an eyebrow and held up his right hand, the wrist still bound and the palm bandaged.

"Can't you fight switch, Jack?  I thought you were one of the best swordsmen in the Caribbean."

Jack grinned again and stood, twirling the blade once with his left hand before saluting Will with it and falling into a guard stance.

Will drew his own sword and saluted, aware of how awkward it felt to hold the blade in his left hand.  He could fight with both hands, he had made certain of that, but he didn't like to.

The two blades crossed easily, both men being careful not to attack too roughly.  This was a friendly game, not a real duel.

Will grinned.  "Your form's good, but how about your footwork?"

The pirate responded with a series of gentle blows that Will easily parried as they maneuvered around the table and between chairs.

Will was peripherally aware of Elizabeth and the maid watching from the doorway to their bedroom.

When they finally stopped their play, Jack was trembling from head to foot, and Will's left arm burned from exertion.

Will moved to help the pirate captain back towards the cot and found himself enveloped in an unexpected bear hug.

"Thank ye, lad."

The words were whispered and hoarse and the contact broken so abruptly that Will almost convinced himself he had imagined them.

The pirate gently sheathed his sword and rested it against the side of the cot before falling back onto it and closing his eyes.


Will noted with satisfaction that it was within reach of the pirate's hand as he headed towards the bedroom and his wife.