One More Taste of Freedom

09 spoils of war

Disclaimer: See the previous chapter.

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He led her to a dock that overlooked the sea and all the ships, of questionable origin, that were docked in Tortuga. Walking out the very end of the pier the pirate sat down, feet dangling over the edge. Elizabeth, who was still very unsure of what to do, settled down next to him.



"What do you see?"



He asked suddenly, breaking the silence.



"Water. Lots of water." her tone was sarcastic, like she didn't know what direction he was taking.



"Aye. And what, by definition, is piracy?"



"An act of robbery on the high seas."



Sparrow nodded as if he'd made some sort of point. She continued to stare at him.



"I'm not following you, Jack."



"Piracy is an act of robbery committed on the high seas, is it not?"



"Yes, that's what I've just said."



"And is that all it is?"



"No."



"So then it stands to reason, that both you and Anamaria are correct. There are cruel, demented, vicious pirates out there. You met one of the best examples of that sort. And there are those who simply wish the live freely and take from the wealthy what they've been cheated out of. Or those who crave adventure and have a great deal of trouble acceptin' anyone's rules to their own, savvy? You have to look deeper than appearances, young missy."



Elizabeth had always had trouble accepting rules, though after many years of being corrected she learned to just go along with whatever her father told her to do. It was far to much trouble to defy him. Especially when she would have had no place to go, should she decide to leave. But that was all past now.


"So what about what you told me on the island? About your ship being your freedom?"



"Aye, it is. The only freedom I've ever known."



"Then why didn't you correct Anamaria?"



"What good would it have done? If she were honest with herself she knows it just as I do -- s'far easier to remain untouched if you don't feel passion for anything. So I suppose that's the path she chooses. Tellin' her otherwise would lead to no good at all." He rubbed his cheek and remembered Giselle. "You're a good girl, Elizabeth, you don't go about slapping poor defenseless people. Don't ever change," patting her lightly on the back he rose," Now if you'll come with me, I seem to be requiring quite a lot of rum."



She stood and followed him back down the dock and into town. This time she made it a point to note specific landmarks so that it would be easier to find her way around next time she wandered off. Jack seemed perfectly at home here, not like in Port Royal where he stuck out. In fact, he was one of the most sober and normal looking people there. That was the first sign to Elizabeth that her world was askew.



Entering the same tavern as she'd left she noticed that Anamaria was no longer sitting at the table. Jack figured she'd probably gotten tired of waiting and gone to find the rest of the crew. It was just as well, maybe then there wouldn't be any more bickering. Finding another table, as the old one was now occupied, the two sat down and Jack ordered more rum. Even though Anamaria was not her favorite person at the moment, Elizabeth still felt the intense need to fit in amongst the crew of the Pearl, so she'd have to do something to earn the woman's respect, she decided.


As the Captain drank his rum he appeared to be looking at something, she followed his gaze and looked over her shoulder to see an unoccupied purse sitting on an empty table. He probably meant to take it - petty thievery was not beneath Jack Sparrow.


"Why don't you take it?" He asked her, "It'll be your first conquest."


"I couldn't, I mean its not mi--" It seemed very obvious by the look he was giving her that he didn't care about her ethics, she sighed. "Fine. What am I supposed to do?"



"You're supposed to take it, pet." As if it was obvious, "just lean back and take it."



Before she could open her mouth in protest again, she thought the better of it and did just what he said. Her next move was ohso cliche, the fake yawn. Spreading her arms and leaning back in her chair so that it stood on two legs, she 'subtlety' reached for the purse. Unfortunately for Elizabeth the floor on which her chair sat was slippery where some drunk had spilt rum. Before she knew what was happened she'd leaned back too far and the chair slipped, falling and throwing her from it. The word 'mortified' didn't even begin to cover it. Jack moved forward in his chair so that he could see her. He'd looked around to see if anyone noticed, namely the owner of the soon-to-be-stolen purse, but everyone seemed distracted. They were safe.


"Not quite what I had in mind,"



Elizabeth rose to her feet and picked up the chair, sitting it upright again. At the moment she just wanted to disappear, she was sure Jack was laughing at her. On the inside, since the man was far too interested in his rum at the moment to poke fun at her. But when she'd stood and used the table on which his prize rested to steady herself, she'd placed her hand over the pouch and taken it with her.


"But it'll do." she smirked and slid her conquest in Jack's direction. If it weren't for the ache in her back, she might have been proud of herself.



One hand still holding the tankard of rum to his lips, the other one was placed over the purse, he shook the bag and seemed to know just by the sound how much money was inside. Sliding it back over to Elizabeth he sat aside his drank and smiled.


"You keep it, spoils of war. Very well done. Why don't you open it up and see what you've won?"



Pulling the drawstrings that kept the pouch closed she dumped its contents out onto the table. There was quite a lot of money, nothing to write home about, but Jack had said it would buy them more rum, which was all that seemed to matter to him. But something else caught her eye. At first she thought she was imagining things, maybe it was the way the light hit the gold coin -- but as she examined the all too familiar skull smiling up at her, she knew it was real. Her gaze met Jack's, the expression on his face was one of intense worry, he placed a hand on his pistol and began surveying the tavern.



"I think its safe to say we've a bit of a problem. Wouldn't you?"



Elizabeth nodded, "I should say so."