Title: Impartial Until Proven Otherwise
By: Arushinchu (formerly Aru)
Disclaimer (and this counts for chapter 1, as well): I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean. I don't own Disney. I write because there's this little thing in my head that won't stop whispering story ideas… I think it's a mouse or a crayon or something… anyways, the point is, don't sue!
A/N: Hey everyone! For some reason ff.net refuses to upload a couple of the italicized parts of this chapter. Just letting you know in advance, hopefully it won't confuse anyone.
I also wanted to clear one thing up if anyone gets curious as to the whole "Vice Admiral Norrington" bit. Vice admiral is a position three points up from Commodore and two points below the highest rank in the navy: Admiral of the Fleet. Although looking back on this I probably could've upped Norrington's rank by one and it would've worked out fine. But I've already chosen to make him a Vice Admiral. So for now, I'll just keep it like that.
Dee14- Nice catch. I was wondering if anyone would notice that. I'd like to cite the traditional "You're my parent, so you don't count." excuse that some people use in similar real life situations. Will's children don't see him as a pirate now, so they don't count him as one in their arguments and little mental ponderings (hope that made sense O.o; ). Although they do believe the stories he tells them about his adventure with pirates, and of his father being one (although William the 3rd (Bill) is probably in denial about that).
Thanks to everyone who has reviewed my story so far!
Now, on to chapter 2!
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Chapter 2
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Hm. Seems to be raining outside.
What is there to write about that hasn't already been written multiple times in the past several months? There is nothing exciting in Port Royal. I have no romances, no stellar conversations (ha!), no curious happenings to write of. Yes, I could write of average, everyday events. Today, Mother made oatmeal for breakfast. Oo lala. But such worthless little tidbits of information consume journal pages and leave little room for the important matters.
…
Not that there's anything important happening in Port Royal.
This town could stand a little livening-up.
-James Turner, 30th day of the 8th month
Clump Clump Clump. It's another quiet, uneventful day here in Port Royal. Why did mother and father choose to live in some dull little port town out in the middle of who-knows-where (oh, right, the Caribbean), where the only thing to do is go up and down the stairs? Maybe that's exaggerating the point. I could go to the market. Yes, the market. Maybe something interesting will happen ther-
"GOOD GOD! YOU'RE NOT SERIOUS!!!"
Blink.
That would be my brother. Something seems to have marginally upset him. A loud squeal follows almost immediately after Bill's words.
"JACK SPARROW?! Are you serious?!"
"Your daughter is a bit-" cough "friendly there, Will."
"Rebecca!"
"You ARE serious! This is illegal! Fraternizing with pirates! If the Vice Admiral could see this now-"
Hello, what's this?
Everyone seems to have gathered downstairs. Mother, Father, Bill, and Rebecca all turn to look up as I pause in my descent of the staircase. As does a strange man who I don't recognize, who seems to be in a rather compromising position. Rebecca is holding him with a death grip around his middle. I'm guessing it's supposed to be an over-enthusiastic hug. She lets go with a sheepish grin.
Back to the stranger, though. Don't think I've seen THIS man around town before. Unkempt black hair, torn clothes. Looks like he hasn't seen a decent bath in years. Although he IS soaking wet, no doubt from the rain outside, which has just recently come to an end. No, he couldn't live in this area. He would have been arrested for disturbing the public with his unruly appearance.
...
I like his hat.
"Hello there, son. Have you met our guest yet?" Father asks me. I roll my eyes.
Yes, I have met him, actually. It all started twenty years ago, when I was but a lad just out of my adolescent years with all the money in the world to fill my pocket but naught to fill the gaping hole in my heart...
Of course I haven't met him. I've been in my room for the past couple hours. But since I can't SHARE my witty retort without a scrap of parchment and a decent quill, I just cock my head to one side curiously and descend the stairs.
"Captain Jack Sparrow at your service, mate." The man grins toothily at me when I walk up to the group. Shiny is the word for it. He has a few chunks of gold in his mouth fashioned in the shape of teeth. I hold out my hand. He blinks and stares at it for a moment, hesitating before taking and shaking it.
"Mr. Sparrow is the captain of the Black Pearl, James." Mother says. I already knew that. The Black Pearl is a famous enough pirate ship. Not to mention tales of this particular pirate captain and the exploits of him and my parents have been the subject of many a night's bedtime story. Before Bill started throwing girlish screaming fits every time the word "pirate" was said within hearing distance, that is. Explains the conflicting cries of my siblings. I nod my head, deciding to be civil until I can gauge this man's nature. After all, my father has said that some pirates, Jack in particular, can be good men. No reason not to give this Captain Jack Sparrow the benefit of the doubt-
"James, is it? Good name. It suits you. But why don't you say anything, lad? Someone cut out your tongue?" I stiffen almost immediately. Apparently, pirates have very little in the way of tact. Jack doesn't notice my annoyed frown at first and winks up at my parents like it's some sort of joke. Everyone else has also gone quiet. Now he notices, and he looks around at the sullen faces.
"Was it somethin' I said?" he asks, genuinely confused.
"Our son…" Mother began, trying to phrase her next words as carefully as possible. Father sighs, apparently deciding to get the information out in the open without euphemisms.
"He's mute, Jack. Can't say a word." Jack pauses, and his confused look changes to one of muted shock. For a split second. But he doesn't APOLOGIZE, no no, a foolish grin find it's way across his face, he spreads his arms wide, and he just has to open his mouth and say-
"Well that's great, then! I'm sure Ol' Cotton will be glad to meet another mute!" Oh, yeah, that just made things MUCH better. You want to know how impressed I am with you right now, pirate? I throw the captain a mock salute before marching right on past him and to the door.
"James-" Mother calls.
Goodbye, Mister Sparrow.
Open door. Exit house. Slam door shut. That's how impressed I am with you right now.