So this took quite a while to get up. Every time I thought I had it finished, I came up with a new idea, which I then had to set up in this chapter. Yep, this is the set up chapter sort of. Anyway, I definitely like the result. Hope you do too.

I revised a bit in the last chapter, thanks to a suggestion from ErinRua. I'm not sure if it's exactly what I had intended when I started the rewrite, but I like it. Adds a bit of humor to Elizabeth's scenes. You might check it out, if you're so inclined.

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Chapter Four

Founder's Day, Part Two

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The Founder's Day Pavilion, 2:00 pm

Will stepped through the temporary doorframe that led into the Pavilion. He halted among the crush of people positioned on the Pavilion, raising his head as he searched for Elizabeth. Will located her quickly; she was standing on a raised platform at the other end of the pavilion, fluttering her fan and looking bored.

He began to make his way through the masses of people, eager to reach his fiancée. Will pushed past men in starched jackets and ladies in crisp skirts. The blend of countless delicate scents assaulted his nose, but he kept his eyes on Elizabeth and continued to edge towards her.

Finally, he reached the platform. Finding a small set of steps, Will climbed to the top of the platform, and Elizabeth. Her face lit up with delight when she saw him coming towards her.

"Will!" she welcomed him, dark eyes radiant. "I was worried you'd decided not to come!"

"You shouldn't have fretted," he answered softly. "I told you that I'd be here, and I'm a man of my word."

"I know," she said, looking into his face. "But allow me my small concerns; I've nothing else to worry about."

Smiling, Will lifted her hand to his lips before they both turned to face the crowd, clasped hands hidden in the folds of Elizabeth's expansive skirt.

***

The Royal Guardsman, 2:20 pm

Captain Jack Sparrow threw back his head, swallowing the shot of whiskey in one fiery gulp. He blinked expressively before upending the glass and slamming it onto the table, bringing the total count of upended glasses to eight.

The crowd of people watching burst into cheers, including a scandalously dressed woman that looked smugly amazed to have found a seat in Jack's lap. A burly man sitting across the table glared blearily at Jack through the hair of his own woman and over his own eight glasses.

"And that's another one, Juliana, love," Jack told the woman. She leaned forward, giving him a long kiss, complete with plenty of tongues and groping.

"Enough!" snarled Jack's opponent. He snatched another shot glass off the tray and held it to his lips for a second before tipping it backwards and down his throat. Shaking his head faintly, he turned over his glass and slammed it down. "And it's one more for me," he growled drunkenly, turning to his woman for his reward.

Jack's hand tightened around Juliana's waist. "We can't have you winnin' now, can we?" he addressed the man. Quickly, he grabbed a glass and tipped it into his mouth. The crowd roared, and several more people shoved money onto the table, joining the substantial amount that was there before.

"He'll drink ol' John to the floor, he will!" proclaimed one of the spectators.

Quirking an insolent eyebrow at the man sitting across from him, Jack pulled Juliana tightly to him. The man seized another glass and gulped it down, glaring at the pirate as he did so. He shook his head slightly as if to clear it, before announcing in the way that only drunk people can, "That's my tenf— my thenf— more than you!" He grabbed his woman as well.

Jack shook his head tragically, eyeing the man critically. He grabbed a shot glass, downed it, kissed Juliana, grabbed another glass, downed it, kissed Juliana again, then grabbed a third glass, downed that one, and kissed Juliana yet again. The tavern filled with a massive roar.

Disentangling himself from Juliana's mouth, he looked smugly across the table at his opponent. "Dare to continue?"

The man snarled again in reply. He grabbed a glass and swallowed the contents, then reached for another. But before he could raise it to his lips, the man blinked twice and stared indistinctly at Jack before his eyes rolled up in his head and he collapsed, the alcohol finally overtaking him.

The crowd roared. Quickly, Jack swept his winnings off the table and into his hat before lifting Juliana easily off his lap and standing. "What say we find a more private place to celebrate?" he murmured. She giggled agreeably. "Gents, I'm off," he announced, tapping fingers to his head in a salute. Knowing glances were exchanged among the spectators; the amount of money Jack had just won was substantial, and the woman was certainly no lady.

Together, Jack and Juliana sauntered out the door to the busy street beyond, his arm draped comfortably around her waist. No one in the tavern paid any more attention than was due – some people were still collecting on bets, others were placing new ones on a shot contest that had started on the opposite side of the tavern.

Immediately upon exiting the tavern, Jack and the woman separated. Jack offered the hat to her, and she picked out approximately half the winnings. He grabbed the rest, shoved them into his pocket, and set the hat back on his head. "Always a pleasure," he said, grinning.

Juliana smiled back. "You're jus' lucky I can 'old 'alf as much liquor as that great brute of a man, and lucky that people don't watch closely when a man gets a kiss," she retorted, fiddling with the gold.

"Aye," Jack agreed. "And lucky that we've done the same trick before. The drink I take goes down your throat–"

"And we both end up wiv' more gold for it," she finished. She slid a hand down the neck of her dress. Jack raised his eyebrows. "Secret pocket, love," she chided, shaking her head. "I'd've thought you'd be able to see that'n. Not gonna jus' totter around all day wiv' my money in a dress pocket, then, am I?" Without any more words, she inclined her head and turned to walk away.

"Juliana!" Jack called after her. She whirled around. "Why are you leavin'? I'm sure we could, ah," – he looked her up and down – "Find something amusin' t'do."

The woman's eyes flashed. "I'll not bed you yet, Sparrow," she retorted. "I got meself a job now – a proper job, in a nice pub, the Laughin' Dog. Find y'self another to take your gold." Spinning on her heel, she walked away without a second glance.

"Worth a try," muttered Jack, turning away himself. He reeled as he began to walk; for all that he could hold his alcohol, the better part of twelve shots of whiskey was enough to make him stagger.

Frightened cries caused him to look up instinctively, squinting as he tried to get his bearings. A carriage careened down the narrow street with no regard for those around it. People ran to get out of its way before being crushed below iron shod wheels.

Jack, safely on the walkway, glanced at the carriage as it hurtled past. He noticed unthinkingly that it was the same one he'd seen earlier, decorated with royal colors for the Founder's Day Ceremony.

Not only that, he suddenly realized, it was driven by the strange woman. Peering at her as she tore past, he saw her head thrown back, as if she was screaming with laughter, although it was too loud to hear if she was. Her hair flew behind her, and as she laughed, something caused a red glint to appear in her teeth.

Something tweaked in Jack Sparrow's mind, a memory of a rumor he thought he had forgotten. His eyes widened. "But what might she be doin' in Port Royal?" he muttered to himself.

His brain fogged with whiskey, he couldn't think and walk at the same time. Locating the nearest tavern, Jack fell into a chair, his brow furrowed in serious thought as he watched the carriage veer dangerously through the narrow avenue.

The carriage turned on the road that led to Point Noir, leaving a small whirling dust devil as the only trace of its passage.

The irony was not lost on Captain Jack Sparrow.

***

The Pavilion, 3:35 pm

The Jamaican sun was reaching its zenith. It beat down relentlessly on the gathering of people, growing hot enough that even those born and raised on the island felt it. The humidity was rapidly rising, and wasn't helped by the hundred or so people doing nothing but standing around and perspiring. Walls around the outside of the pavilion caught the heat and held it, creating an atmosphere not unlike that of an oven.

"This is getting ridiculous!" Elizabeth said heatedly. "It's been over an hour! What is going on?" She flapped her fan violently, the resulting breeze blowing wildly across her face and teasing her hair free of its pins.

Will sighed. "It'll start soon. It must."

As he gazed over the crowd, Will's eye caught on a flash of red and white. Focusing on the movement was an effort – it was so hot he felt even his eyeballs were sweating. He finally made out two men dressed in the uniform of the Royal Navy pushing through the crowd. They seemed to be making their way towards the entrance to the Pavilion.

Will lightly nudged Elizabeth with his elbow. When she turned to face him, he nodded his head toward the sailors. They watched in silence as the two men located a stairwell. Taking the stairs two at a time, the men were greeted at the top by a man whose figure Will immediately recognized.

"Commodore Norrington is here?" he asked Elizabeth.

"Of course. He's one of the most important people in Port Royal, aside from my fath–" She stopped. Her fan faltered in its movements. Will glanced at her to see her staring into space. She finished her sentence without looking at him. "Aside from my father."

Will's attention was drawn back to the two men and the Commodore. They appeared to be in a heated discussion, drawn closely into a circle. Moments later, the two sailors turned away. One man began trotting the perimeter of the wall, spending a few seconds speaking to every guard posted. The other man ran down the stairs and through the doorframe. Will could see just enough of the sailor's movements to conclude that he mounted a horse and rode off.

Will's brow furrowed. The men were moving with urgency. "Something is going on," he whispered to Elizabeth.

"Yes, Will, I know. I'm not a dolt." Her reply was clipped, harsh and angry.

He glanced at her, clearly surprised at her uncharacteristic tone. "Is everything all right, Eliz–"

"Everything is wonderful," she said aggressively. "Why wouldn't it be? What possible reason do I have to be anything less than perfectly fine?"

Will stared at her, an almost physical pain shining in his dark eyes. "I– I'm sorry," he murmured. "Whatever I did– I didn't mean to upset you."

She looked at him then, and relented. She laid a hand to his face. "No, it's I who should apologize. I'm sorry, Will," she told him softly. She sighed, laying her head on his shoulder in a rare public display of affection. Will cautiously lifted his arms to encircle her slight frame. "It's just—" She faltered. He felt her take a deep breath. "Where is my father?"

***

The city, 3:40 pm

Jack still sat in the same chair. He head had rolled back in sleep – although he had not passed out, he couldn't stay awake. His feet were propped on another chair, and in front of him was a mug almost full of rum, which he had bought to placate those who wanted him to move since he wasn't buying.

"Oy, look at this!" a voice cried, loud and close enough to pull free of the general chaotic chatter. "Hawthorne, look here!"

Jack swam through layers of sleep and alcohol, trying to remember where he was. Leaning forward, he opened his eyes, blinking blearily as he focused.

"Would you look at that?" said a second voice. "He was napping!"

Jack focused in front of him. Two men in red and white approached his table, their hands hovering over their pistols. Jack's eyes widened.

"Why, do you know what that is?" said the first man.

The second man, Hawthorne, replied, "I surely do. Isn't it a pirate?"

"Ahh, but which pirate, Hawthorne?" asked the first man.

"Bloody hell," Jack muttered to himself. "Swabs with a sense of whimsy." They didn't hear him.

"You have a point, Dunmore," acknowledged Hawthorne. They were close enough now that they stopped walking. "There are many pirates. But I remember this one quite clearly."

"As do I," Dunmore replied, smirking. "The one and only Jack Swallow!"

A look of dismay crossed Jack's face.

"The same Jack Swallow we saw trip over a balcony wall a few months ago?" said Hawthorne.

"The same Jack Swallow that escaped the gallows the last time he was here?"

"The same Jack Swallow we're supposed to arrest if we lay eyes on him?"

"I wonder what he's doing here?"

"Oh, I definitely think we have a good idea."

"Jack Swallow is known for just such bold maneuvers, it is true."

"That's bloody enough, mates," Jack interrupted. "First off, it's Captain Jack–"

"Shut your mouth, pirate!" snarled Dunmore.

"And secondly, my name is–"

"Right, that's it from you," said Hawthorne, trying to look menacing. Dunmore jingled a pair of irons.

They moved closer, grinning. Dunmore leaned in close on his right side. "I hope you like the jail."

Hawthorne leaned in on Jack's left side. "Because that's where you're going."

Jack's eyes flicked back and forth between the two soldiers. "Just got something to tell you boys before you clap me in irons." He grinned. "You're a magnificent pair of idiots."

He grabbed the backs of their heads and smashed them together. The two men collided with a resounding crack, the impact immediately knocking them both out. They fell to the ground, limbs sprawled haphazardly.

Quickly, Jack bent and grabbed their pistols, hanging them awkwardly from his belt. He took off running, shoving past the shocked crowd that had gathered. Some of them tried clumsily to grab him, but none succeeded.

He sprinted down the street, looking for somewhere to hide. God knew why, but the soldiers were in the city. The blow he had given the two men wouldn't be enough to keep them unconscious for long.

Suddenly Jack ground to a halt. Turning around, he walked quickly and faced a building. He stared up at the signboard, a picture of a dog with his mouth open in laughter.

***

The Pavilion, 3:45 pm

"Look," Will whispered to Elizabeth. "The man who rode away just returned." Elizabeth didn't answer, but watched with haunted eyes.

Dismounting outside the Pavilion, the sailor rushed through the doorframe and up the stairs. Commodore Norrington turned quickly, presumably hearing the man's approach. They stood together in a heated discussion. Will watched Norrington raise his hands to his temples as if his head was in pain.

Lowering his hands, Norrington went down the stairs. He began to make his way through the crowd, having a much easier time of it than Will had; People saw the Commodore's uniform and stood aside. He seemed to be aiming for the platform, and sure enough, he stopped when he reached it.

The Commodore gracefully stepped onto the platform, bypassing the stairs in what seemed to be a carefully contained haste. Straightening to his full height, Norrington called, "Excuse me." Those eyes who were not already following his passage through the crowd immediately turned to him.

Norrington continued once he was sure he had everyone's attention. "Unfortunately, due to unanticipated problems, the Founder's Day Ceremony is being postponed. I can only give my sincerest apologies for calling you out here for no reason. I suggest you get home and stay out of the heat. Thank you for your attention." He stepped away from the edge.

The Pavilion erupted in shocked whispers. Elizabeth took a few quick steps forward and grabbed the Commodore's arm, abandoning propriety.

"Commodore, what is going on?" she said quietly.

He smiled tightly, not even looking at her; clearly he was preoccupied. "Nothing of import, Miss Swann."

"Bollocks," she tensely shot back at him, tightening her grip on his arm. "You listen to me, Commodore, and you listen well. You have called off the Founder's Day Ceremony indefinitely— not something that happens often or actually, ever, to my recollection. You look as if you're seeing nightmares. My father has not arrived yet. Now. Tell me what is going on."

Norrington slowly turned to look at her as if noticing her for the first time. His face clouded for a moment, until he shook his head slightly. "Yes, of course, Elizabeth. I— I had forgotten that you were, ah— you. I'll tell you, but I must insist that we move to a place where we are less likely to be overheard."

Without waiting for her response, he walked away from the crowd, jumping down from the raised platform. Elizabeth followed suit, earning the scandalized looks of a few of the more conservative women around them. Will followed closely behind them.

The trio soon came across a secluded area behind a bend of the rocky wall. Norrington turned to face them. "Elizabeth–" he began, but halted upon seeing Will for the first time. That, more than anything, told Will that whatever had happened was serious. The Commodore was not one to let details slip, and the fact that he had not noticed Will on the platform was a sign of his distraction.

Norrington's gaze returned to Elizabeth. "I assume it is permissible for Master Turner to be privy to the discussion?"

"I trust him with my life, Commodore," Elizabeth answered fixedly. "And he has saved it, as you well know. He has saved your own life as well, by proxy."

"Yes. Of course." Norrington glanced at Will again. While the two men had not become close friends, each acknowledged the other's role in the events of eight months ago. There was a definite sense of grudging respect between them.

"Elizabeth, Master Turner," he began, taking a deep breath. "I am about to disclose as-yet-unreleased information, so please, treat it accordingly." He paused, looking at Elizabeth with distress. "As you seem to have guessed, the governor, your father, is missing."

Elizabeth's brow tightened. She inhaled slowly.

The Commodore continued. "I don't know what has happened, but in these situations it is protocol to assume the worst."

"Are you–" Elizabeth's voice caught. "Are you sure he didn't just lose track of time? Did you check the house? He could be–"

"Yes, Elizabeth, it was the first thing we did. We're not amateurs," he replied with a tinge of heat in his voice, but the anger was not directed at them. "The footman saw him out the door and into the carriage. Something must have happened to him between the house and the pavilion."

"What are you doing to find him?" Will asked, his first words since Norrington had told them.

"Everything I can, Turner," he answered grimly. "Excepting the guards that were previously posted, I've called out the entire company of Her Majesty's Navy that is stationed in Port Royal. They are scouring the roads, the woods, the city" Norrington trailed off, seeing Will's eyes widen. "What is it?"

Recovering, Will's lips curved into a strained smile. "It seems rather a lot."

The Commodore shook his head. "I will admit that I'll feel foolish if it turns out that a carriage horse threw a shoe, or some such thing. But I'm inclined to think differently.

"I'm sorry, Elizabeth, Master Turner. I must go. My presence is needed in the search." He inclined his head and strode off, purpose flashing in his dark eyes.

The betrothed pair was silent as he walked away. Once Norrington was out of earshot, Will whirled to face Elizabeth. "Elizabeth, Jack is somewhere out there! You heard the Commodore; the army is scouring the city. They'll find him for sure!"

"I haven't forgotten about Jack Sparrow," she replied, slowly and deliberately.

Will stared at her. "You don't– You can't think that–"

"Will, he's a pirate! Had you forgotten? He's always been fairly decent around either of us, but he is first and foremost a pirate! I just– I don't know!" she finished miserably.

Will was silent. The thought that Jack could be involved in Governor Swann's disappearance hadn't occurred to him.

"Either way, our course is clear," Elizabeth stated. "We must find Captain Jack Sparrow."

***

Wow, that was a long chapter. Leave me a review, loves!

I posted this without a beta, so if you noticed any mistakes, please alert me!

Thanks for reading, everyone! Love you all, but especially

Elderberry: *looks sheepish* You caught me, love. Yes, I've read Good Omens. I just loved that line about sauntering vaguely downward so much that I had to use it. But what are you talking about with the blood-licking? Where was that?

Lip Balm: Thanks for saying I portray Jack well. I hope I continued with the goodness in this chapter!

Kayden Eidyak: Yes, that was fairly trippy, and I apologize. I hope you liked!

Vienna1: Sadly, I'm not planning on getting Bootstrap in here. It was my understanding he was dead. Er just between you and me, pet, maybe you want to check the spelling of what you write?

Mojave Dragonfly: I'm glad my POV switches aren't confusing. And I still need to read the last chapter of your fic oops.

helgz: Thank you!

chris: Hope you enjoyed!

ErinRua: You of all people know how much effort this took. Thanks for everything, and I hope you liked the end result!

AerinBrown: Sadly, no pirates in this chapter. But perhaps some in the next

If you've noticed, I only replied to those who reviewed yes, I admit, I'm bribing the readers. But come on! How much effort does it take! Let me know what you think!

Well, I'm off. Farewell, loves, and stay away from undead pirates!

-Lydia