Author's Note: not mine, except for the ones I made, and I really can't think of anything else to say, so please read and enjoy.  ^_^  And don't kill me for the ending.

Clover?  jackfan2? Niamh?  Savvy-z?  Mrs. NC?  KawaiiRyu?  completeopposites?  Erica?  KamikazeCreamPuff?  PeleAmelika?  ao_hoshi?  Ginny-Star?  Honor?  Arwen?  SrpklingSatine?  bboarding323?  Talabar?  Rustic Zebra?  Kerry?  Have I bored you all, or do you simply hate me?  *whimpers*  I truly do notice my reviewers and I notice when 'regulars' don't review, and I hope that everything is going really good in all your lives, and if you have time, let me know how you are, because I haven't heard from you in weeks . . . . . ^_^

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"Where is she?"  A tall man with brown hair and eyes forced his way past the maid who answered the door at the Morgan's house in Port Royal.

   "Sir, you can't just barge in here –"

   The man brushed windblown hair out of his face.  The scent of the sea clung to him.  "I most certainly can."  Ryan Morgan took pity on the small woman . . . child . . . answering the door.  None of the current problems were her fault.  "Look, please tell Grace that –"

   "Uncle Ry!"  The piercing cry of a happy four-year-old interrupted Ry from his request.  Knowing he'd get more help from Marcus' youngest daughter, he turned to greet Zoë.  The young girl eagerly jumped into his arms, squealing as he squeezed her around the middle.  "Uncle Ry!  I can't breathe."  Her laughter made him think otherwise.

   "Tell me, bitling, where's your mama?"

   "Upstairs with Aunt Winn and missus Elizabeth."

   That's what I wanted to know.  He set the child down.  "Is your poppa home?"

   "No.  He's meeting Commandeer Norrelton." 

   Ry hid a smile despite his anxiety for his sister.  "I think you mean 'Commodore Norrington,' bit."

    With the tone of an exasperated child, Zoë insisted, "That's what I said, Uncle Ryan.  You're not listening very well.  Maybe you need to have some quiet time to think about how to listen better."  And having said that, she skipped off.

   "I'm sorry, Ry."  Ry looked up to see Grace come down the stairs.  "I'm afraid she was listening in on some of Elsa and Margaret's lessons and overheard the tutor say that."  Grace came over to accept a hug and a kiss on the cheek from her brother-in-law.  "I don't know why you're here, but I'm glad you are."

   "How is she?"

   "You heard?"

   "I heard that a woman named Winifred Smith was poisoned by her pirate lover and that today is his trial."  Ry rubbed his face.  "I would have been here sooner, but after giving in to Winn's wish to go after Jack – alone – I tailed the ship that picked her up until it made dock in Clarence Town on Long Island, right off the Exumas.  One of my men overheard an Italian crewman talking about how Jack Sparrow had finally been caught by the English navy, and so I hurried here, only to hear all these rumors.  I knew letting Winn go ashore alone was a bad idea."

   "Yes, well, things could have been a great deal worse.  And I know you and I know Winn, and I certainly know Captain Morgan – if she went ashore on her own then there was no other way around it."  The two started walking back up the stairs, Ry eager to see his sister.  "Winn and the babe are both alright for the time being, but . . . ."

   "Grace?"  The way she didn't finish the sentence made Ry's heart constrict.

   "You know how we've always given Jack a bad time about his luck, or lack thereof?"  Ry nodded.  "Well, things are no different in this case.  He surrendered himself to the British at what is possibly the worst possible time.  Commodore Norrington has recently received a visit from Paxton Tyndale, Lord Chancellor Hallington, in charge of ensuring that all is running smoothly in His Majesty's colonies." 

   Ry whistled at the enormity of the situation they were all in.  "He's pushing for a quick execution, isn't he?  That's why you said that Winn and the babe were alright for the time being."

   Grace nodded.  "The sentencing is this morning, in a little under an hour."  Ry noticed for the first time that Grace was dressed rather well for someone who stayed home most days.  "Winn's been ordered to attend by Hallington.  Marcus and I have done all we can to . . . release her from this obligation, but to no effect.  Even Norrington stuck his oar in.  In fact, the Commodore has been incredibly . . . sympathetic through all this.  More sympathetic than his reputation would lead one to believe possible.  I think he suspects that there's something going on between Winn and Jack that would lead him to surrender himself for a woman, but he hasn't made any accusations.  Which is less than can be said for Hallington."  They paused outside of Winn's room.

   "What has he been saying?"

   "More along the lines of Winn being an adulteress.  But that is neither here nor there at the moment.  I assume that now that you're here, you'll attend the sentencing with us?  Winn needs all the support she can get at the moment.  Especially since I doubt she's even strong enough to be sitting up for as long as this is likely to take."

   "Of course.  Can we go in?" 

   Grace nodded and opened the door.  "Winn?  You've got a visitor."

   Winn turned on the stool she was sitting on, making Elizabeth grumble as the other woman tried to adjust Winn's wig.  "Ry?"  Winn's voice trembled as she tried to keep from crying.  If this was any indication, she was never going to make it through the day.

   Ry quickly walked across the room and knelt by Winn, pulling his baby sister into his arms.  She leaned into him as tears leaked from her eyes.  "Aw, Freddy.  I'm so sorry."  She nodded.  "Listen, we're going to do what we can to make sure this child of yours gets the chance to know both its parents.  You hear me?"  Her head nodded on his shoulder.  "And we'll start by going to the sentencing."

   "I can't."

   "Winn, whose wife are you?"

   "Jack's."  Her voice was barely a whisper.

   "That's right.  What is Jack?"

   "A pirate."

   "That would make you what?"

   "A pirate's wench."  She inhaled shakily.  "And I will behave like one, no matter how out of place I feel in these skirts."  Winn pulled away from her brother.  "I will be strong so that Jack can be strong."

   "There's my Freddy."  Ry took her hands.  "We're going to be there every step of the way."

   "Well, you and Grace will."  She gave a laugh that was somewhere between a sob and a gasp.  "Marcus has to stay with his commanding officer, and Will and Elizabeth have been banned from the proceedings by Hallington."  Ry looked up at Elizabeth who nodded.  Winn continued, staring at her lap.  "He learned that they helped Jack escape the last time and he doesn't want to take any risks."

   "Guess he doesn't know what he just invited into the courtroom then."

   Winn took a deep breath to calm herself.  She wished she could be considered a risk . . . to Hallington.  But she had the feeling that the only risk her presence would bring would be to Jack.

"You surprise me, Sparrow.  I would have assumed you'd be awake by now."

   Jack rolled his eyes as he lay on the stone ledge that ran along the wall.  "Forgive me for not being terribly eager to start the day, Commodore, but legal proceedings have always . . . bored me to death."  Jack, while not in the best of moods, was more than willing to play with the minds of the men who'd come to assist Norrington.  "Although, I must admit that it's a beautiful day to be condemned to the noose."  He glanced over at the Commodore and his men; the men were bewildered and Norrington had a look of strained patience on his face.  Killjoy.  "Very well, if you're going to be so grim about it."

   Jack stood up and walked over the door of the cell, which was open, and allowed two of the redcoats to fasten irons around his wrists and ankles.  "Not so tight, lads.  I have enough difficulty walking on land as it is."

   Norrington looked down at Jack's feet.  Then he looked at the man who'd fastened them.  With raised eyebrows and a voice that conveyed incompetence of the men around him, he asked, "How do you expect the man to walk if he cannot feel his feet?"

   "But Commodore, sir –"

   "Loosen them, Mr. Cooper, unless you wish to end up carrying Mr. Sparrow into the courtroom."  The man got to work.

   "Thank you, Commodore.  Only think how embarrassin' it'd be to be hauled in for judgment like a bag of flour."

   Norrington looked Jack in the eye, and Jack let his façade drop for a moment.  "I take no pleasure in this, Mr. Sparrow."  Jack nodded, and with measured steps, left his cell.

Winn sat on her bench, leaning against Ry's side.  She was doing her best to catch her breath quietly, not wanting to let either Ry or Grace know how much the walk up the steps and down the aisle had fatigued her.  She didn't know how much success she was having, because Ry had wrapped an arm around her shoulders to help support her and Grace was leaning over to talk to her.

   "Are you alright?"

   "Yes, Grace."

   "Are you feeling any pain?"

   "No."  Slight discomfort, yes, but I can deal with slight discomfort.

   Grace looked at Winn as if she knew what her rebellious sister-in-law was thinking.  Winn looked back, carefully schooling her features into overt innocence.  Grace could only look at that face for so long before breaking into a small smile.  "You look just like your husband when you do that."

   "I know."  Winn tensed as the magistrate came into the room.  The room was packed for the hearing, and the people around her all stood up, but she was glad to have an excuse not to.  It saved her from having to either lie or be thrown out for not showing proper respect.

   The magistrate sat down, his powdered wig and stark black robe a dramatic contrast to the unpainted boards of the walls.  His face was a mask of bored indifference.  Winn immediately hated him.  A man's life was at stake – the least he could do was feign interest.  "Grace?  Ry?  I can't do this."

   "Winn –"

   "I'm not going to be able sit here and stay quiet.  I can't.  I ca–"

   "Bring in the prisoner."  Both Grace and Ry felt Winn freeze under their hands.  Winn wasn't aware that she'd frozen, wasn't aware that she was having difficulty breathing . . . but Norrington was.  He was watching her from where he sat between Hallington and Marcus.  He'd noticed that his young captain was being very careful not to look in the direction of his wife and her patient – which raised its own questions – but Norrington wanted to see how the woman was going to react.  The Commodore felt a surge of frustration as he found that her expression could be interpreted as either fear of Sparrow, or fear for Sparrow.  Based on his other observations, he'd guess that it was the latter, but events didn't let him ponder this for long.

   The doors creaked open.  The sound of heavy chains jangling caused Winn's heart to start beating painfully.  Jack . . .  She fought the urge to turn around and stare at the husband she hadn't seen in a week, to drink him in with her eyes.  Instead, she bowed her head and stared at her hands; at some point Grace had reached over to take her hand.  Winn squeezed it as she fought to control her unruly emotions.  Against her hopes, the pen for holding the accused was in front of the room instead of to the side . . . and she'd been seated right in front of it.  Jack was going to be so close . . . and she wouldn't be able to do anything.

   The clanking of chains continued.  Winn imaged that her heart contracted with each measured footstep.  Tears burned the back of her eyes, but she refused to let them fall.  I can do this.  I have to do this.  I will be strong for Jack.  I won't break down in front of Hallington.  Winn took a deep breath, straightened her spine, and squared her shoulders.  "Keep fighting."  Jack's voice rang in her head.  I will.  I'm the wife of a pirate.  I will behave in a manner of which he can be proud.  She would, but she still wasn't ready to look up from her lap.

   Ry was seated on the aisle, and past his shoulder, out of the corner of her eye, Winn saw a flash of red.  The chains sounded louder than ever.  There has to be more than that.  Winn strained her ears and caught a fainter clack and jingle under the rattle of chains – Jack's baubles.  The ones in his hair.  I can do this.

  Winn sat between her brother and sister-in-law, with bowed head and eyes for another five or ten minutes as the proceedings got under way.  The magistrate was slowly reading the standard list of charges against Jack.  After each charge, Hallington would confirm Jack's guilt by listing where or against whom each act had been committed.  Needless to say, this took awhile.

   Jack used the time to glance around the courtroom, occasionally letting his eyes rest on Winn.  She looked exhausted – she'd been up most the night, undoubtedly, worrying over him.  In the short time since he'd last seen her, it seemed as if she'd gained some weight around her middle, although what he could see of her face seemed to testify that she'd actually lost weight.  He hid a smile at the appearance of her 'proper Englishwoman' wig and the spectacles perched on her nose.  She was wearing a dress that had been dyed a soft mauve, and she had kidskin gloves on her hands.  The picture she presented was very proper, very fragile, and very deceiving.  If he knew his wife, she was planning horrible fates for everyone involved in this mockery of justice.  If he had known how close she was to losing it, he would have been very surprised.

   Winn heard Jack fidgeting.  She couldn't blame him – the list of charges went on for some time, and few of them were new.  She'd lost track of what was being said long ago, instead focusing her energy into keeping her back straight, her face free of tears, and her ears filled with any sound that Jack might be making.

   "Are you doing alright?" 

   Winn nodded in response to her brother's quiet question as she shifted in her seat.  Her back was complaining about its lack of support; her abdominal muscles were cramping from the demand she was placing on them to keep her posture straight.  They'd become lazy during her days lying in bed.  Her mind had long ago started to numb itself to what was going on around her, preparing for the sentencing at the end.  Without that preparation, she'd loose it when her husband's sentence was declared, even though she knew what it would be.  By this point, she was close to being able to observe the proceedings with an indifferent eye.  I wonder if I could look at Jack.  The need to do so had been growing steadily for nearly half an hour now.  Winn bit her lip, took a deep breath, and then looked up covertly, trying to appear as if she were still studying the ground.

   Jack was standing flanked by two redcoats and had an extremely bored look on his face.  She knew that look – he was somewhere else entirely, his mind occupied by charting a new course for the Pearl, or making some plan, or reviewing known shipping schedules.  Or perhaps he was thinking about the past few weeks.

   Winn found her eyes drifting over his body.  Her heart screamed at the sight of his hands in irons, but when she heard another clanking and realized his ankles were also chained, she bit into her lip hard enough to hurt.  This wasn't a sentencing, it was public humiliation.  Why didn't they just put him in the stocks?  No.  Don't think about that.  Thinking about that would simply lead her to do something stupid, and stupidity couldn't be afforded now.  She moved her gaze and forcefully pushed her mind on to a new topic.

   He was dirty.  Winn let out a small huff.  She'd worked long and hard to find clothing that was worn and disheveled enough to suit the image that Jack liked to project, but wasn't ragged or dirty enough to drive her insane.  But what he was wearing now . . . it was going to have to be burned.  They'd been fine after two weeks of captivity on Gandolfi's ship, but after a week in a jail cell . . . just the thought was unbearable.  They're not even fit for rags. 

   Winn's eyes moved on, skipping past Jack's face for the time being.  They took his hat.  Indignation was followed by confusion.  Or did he have it when we left the other ship?  The other ship . . . she'd been poisoned . . . her child might have been permanently harmed . . . Jack had surrendered himself . . . .  No!  Winn's eyes skipped down to her husband's face to distract her thoughts.

   His face was nearly as dirty as his clothes, or at least the part not obscured by hair was.  At least she hoped it was dirt and not bruises.  I hope he doesn't decide that he wants to re-grow those braids.  His beard is near long enough, but I prefer him without them.  They take away from the rest of his face.  And his moustache needed trimming.  She'd have to make sure to take care of that.  Winn realized she was thinking like he was going to be going home with her after this was all done.  But I have to believe that this will turn out alright.  That somehow I'll have the chance to trim his beard and burn those clothes . . . otherwise . . . .

   She'd missed him.  She'd missed him more than she'd realized.  I don't know why.  I've gone for longer without seeing him.  When I visit my family for a fortnight at a time.  That time when I went back to England.  For the nearly three months before Anamaria and Gibbs brought the news.  I guess it's just that so much has happened that I've needed him for . . . and he wasn't able to be there because I made him make a choice.  Winn let out a rather shaky breath, then looked at Jack's eyes.  Not matter what else might be happening, his eyes would tell her the truth.

   Despite the circles that testified to long, sleepless nights, his eyes themselves were bright . . . bright enough to make her suspicious of what he might be planning.  She knew that look as well.  He was thinking about doing something incredibly risky, and therefore challenging, and therefore she was automatically going to hate it.  That, or I'm becoming extremely paranoid.  Wha–"  Was it her imagination, or had Jack just winked at her?  Winn felt a bit of hope twine into the ropes of desolation that were wrapping her mind in a stranglehold.

   "And the manner in which Mister Sparrow arrived in Port Royal?"

   Jack mouthed 'Captain Sparrow.'

   Winn felt her mouth twitch into a small, unsure smile.

   Hallington approached the magistrate's bench.  "We have written statements to present, Magistrate Chandler."  He handed over a small sheaf of papers.

   "Thank you, Lord Chancellor."  The magistrate looked over the papers.  "I don't see a statement from the woman involved," he said quietly to Hallington.

   "Is it missing?"  Hallington's voice was blandly innocent.  "Well, Mrs. Smith is in the courtroom – it would take no time to question her so that you may gain the information you need."

   Chandler thought about it for a moment.  All he really wanted to do was get this over with so he could leave.  He'd had an early breakfast and was now ready for his midday.  "Very well.  If you would please call the woman forward, Lord Hallington?"

   "Certainly."  Hallington turned from the magistrate's bench and announced, "Winifred Smith, please come forward for questioning."

   Jack watched as his wife's head snapped up like a doe scenting danger.  The blood drained from her face, leaving her paler than he'd seen her since they'd first realized what Gandolfi had done to her, and it appeared as if she was having difficulty breathing.

   "Mrs. Smith?"

   Winn was shaking her head in denial and barely suppressed panic.  This was why she hadn't wanted to come.  Grace leaned over and spoke to her in a quiet voice, earning another violent headshake.  Jack felt his heart twist at the helplessness on his wife's face.  It was clear that she shouldn't be here, that she shouldn't be out of bed.

   Grace had had enough.  It was bad enough that Winn had been drug out of bed to sit through a lengthy recitation of the crimes her husband was charged with, worse that she'd had to witness as self-righteous men tried to humiliate her husband, but the false pretences that had been used to get her to testify were the last straw.  Grace looked at Marcus and Norrington – they were both plainly upset by this latest occurrence; she looked at Jack – his eyes asked her to help Winn.  That . . . is . . . it.  She stood.  "Excuse me, Lord Chancellor, Magistrate Chandler, but I must protest."

   Pompously, the magistrate started to say, "Your concerns have been given due consideration, Mrs. Morgan –"

   "I don't believe they have, sir."  Grace would not be patronized.  "Over my expressed and strenuous 'concerns,' my patient has been dragged from her sickbed while she's barely strong enough to sit upright.  She's weak and still recovering from a traumatic physical and emotional ordeal, and now she's being asked to share that before strangers who will see her story spread through the length and breadth of Port Royal before sunset?"

   "You are out of order, Mrs. Morgan."

   "No. You are.  Look at her.  Look at her!  She's nowhere near –"

   "You will have a seat, Mrs. Morgan," the magistrate thundered, "before I evict you from this courtroom for improper conduct.  Is that understood?"

   "Ry.  Make her sit."  Winn's voice was weak but insistent.  She didn't want anyone else getting into trouble on her account.  Ry looked at his sister, then reached over to pull on his sister-in-law's arm.  Grace reluctantly took her seat.  At a nod from Hallington, two soldiers came forward to help Winn from her seat.  "I can do this," she whispered to herself and her family as the men took her arms to help her up.

   Jack watched in pained silence as Winn managed to take two or three small steps before her knees buckled and she let out a muted groan.  Her arms made an aborted move towards her stomach, but the hands on her arms kept her from completing the motion.  Ry was there to support her, but Jack had had enough.  What he was about to do was foolhardy, but he couldn't stand by as Winn struggled to keep her dignity and her composure for his sake.  She was in no condition to do anything, and too weak to keep herself and their child safe.  Which left things up to him.

   "So, now the courts have taken to persecuting helpless women who are also with child.  No wonder I find more civilized men on the sea."

   "No," Winn whispered as she heard her husband address the magistrate and the chancellor in his most insolent tone.  A tone that would ensure severe punishment.  One did not just mock important men without consequence.  She fought to stand upright once again, to show Jack that he had nothing to fight for – that she could defend herself – but her legs weren't cooperating. 

   Hallington smiled.  This was what he wanted.  He motioned for the magistrate to stay silent.  Then, ignoring Jack for the time being, he asked Winn, "Can you, or can you not stand on your own two feet, Mrs. Smith."

   Why was he doing this?  Winn didn't understand why he was so set on humiliating Jack and humiliating her.  Taking a deep breath, she managed to get her feet under her – she'd die before letting him win.

   Marcus started to stand, but Norrington stopped him.  Instead the Commodore himself stood and said, "I believe this is all unnecessary, Lord Hallington.  There are three people in this room who were present during Mrs. Smith's questioning yesterday.  Surely between the three of us, we can remember all that was said."

   "Hold your peace, Commodore."

   "I cannot, not as long as the officials of this court are behaving in manner unbefitting of their station."

   "Don't."  Despite the fact that she was having difficulty walking, Winn's mind was working, thrown back into the moment by the chaos that had arisen around her.  "I don't want anyone else getting in trouble on my account."  She took another step forward, then collapsed as muscles grown lazy from too much bedrest turned to jelly.  She fell, pulling free of the hands supporting her.  She caught herself on the rail around Jack's pen before hitting the ground.

   Jack jumped forward as Winn let out a low cry, afraid that she'd exerted too much energy . . . that the pain that Gandolfi had started was starting again.

   The court turned into a circus around them as Winn felt Jack's hands come to rest on hers.  "Just a charley horse," she panted as her leg throbbed with more pain that should be possible.  She looked up into Jack's eyes, and he was surprised at the amount of panic there.  "You have to get away from me.  They'll use this."

   "Lass –"

   "Guards!"  Winn felt hands pulling her up from her crouch as more hand roughly pulled Jack away from her.

   "No!  He was just trying to help me!"  She struggled to face Hallington.

   "Freddy, calm down.  You have to calm down.  You're going to hurt the babe."  Winn looked up to find that Marcus was one of the men helping her stay upright.

   "I'm sorry for putting you in such a dangerous situation, Mrs. Smith.  I can assure you that Sparrow will be duly punished for trying to take you hostage."

   "What?"  No.  Jack was just trying to help me.  "I –"

   "You are clearly overset.  Captain Marcus, your wife can take her patient home now.  I believe things can be settled without her assistance."

   "What, may I ask, is Sparrow's punishment to be, Chancellor."  Winn looked to her other side and found that Norrington was the other man holding her up.

   "Thirty-five lashes."  Hallington motioned for the guards to take Jack outside.

   No.  Winn looked at her husband as he tried to put up some resistance.  "That's more than his actions deserve."  The blood loss that would cause . . . .

   "The pirate vermin is being punished for his intentions, his actions, and the disrespect he showed this court and its officials."  Hallington turned to leave.  "And should events conspire to support this court's ruling, he will face the noose in three days time."  Winn couldn't help it, this news was too much.  Her husband was twice sentenced to die and it was her fault.  With more than a little relief, she fainted.

   Norrington watched as Winn was carried out by Marcus and the man that had been pointed out at her brother.  If he looked closely, she bore a strong family resemblance to both men.  The last of the puzzle clicked into place.  One of these days, Sparrow, I'm going to catch you in an actual act of piracy.  He would stop by the Morgan residence later that night, but for the moment he had best go see what could be done for Sparrow.

"How is she?"

   Grace shook her head as she took a seat at the kitchen table.  "Unresponsive.  She hasn't said a word since she woke up."  Winn had awakened from her faint several hours before, and since then had sat in her bed staring out the window, ignoring all who came to talk to her.  The only action she displayed was she kept twisting her wedding ring around and around on her finger.

   It was just Grace, Ry, Elizabeth, and Will at the house.  Marcus had gone to the fort to see how bad off Jack was and if anything could be done for him.  No one had much hope that Hallington would allow anything to be done. 

   Grace sighed.  "I think it's best to give her some time to herself right now . . . at least until we have something to tell her."

   The four sat in silence for another hour before Marcus came home, bringing a visitor with him.  No one knew what to say when Norrington entered the kitchen.  They all wanted news as to how Jack was, but couldn't ask in front of the Commodore.

   "Grace, the Commodore would like to know if it would be possible for him to speak to Winifred.  Alone."

   Grace thought for a moment, examining Norrington as she did.  The man was plainly tired, he'd taken off his hat in respect to the women in the room, and he had an air of regret around him.  "I suppose that would be alright, but if Winifred asks you to leave –"

   "I shall immediately depart.  I understand, Mrs. Morgan."  Norrington hesitated before continuing, "And I apologize for this morning.  It was unclear to me just how far the Lord Chancellor would go to regain his dignity."

   Elizabeth spoke up.  "It's not your fault, James.  From what Grace and Marcus have told us, you did what you could to keep event from . . . unfolding the way they did."

   "Thank you, I only wish that I could have done more."  Norrington bowed to Grace and Elizabeth, "Now, if you'll excuse me."  He left the room.

   For several seconds, silence reigned in the kitchen.  "Marcus, what's going on?  How's Jack?  What does the Commodore want to talk to Winn about?"  Marcus shook his head as he took a seat next to his wife.

   "I'm not sure what Norrington wishes to discuss with Freddy.  I think that today's events raised some questions for him."

   "But she's not in danger, is she?"

   "No."

   "And Jack?"  Marcus glanced at his older brother – they both had experience with the damage a whip could do to a person.  The only good thing about this situation was that Winn hadn't been present to see it.  Taking a deep breath, Marcus looked at Will to answer his question.

   "Not good.  They didn't even bother to take his shirt off before starting in, and then they threw him back in his cell.  Without medical attention . . . I'm not sure he'll make it to see the morning of his execution."

The room that Norrington walked into was dark except for the light of a single candle and the dying sun.  He didn't bother announcing himself since his knock on the door had gone unanswered.  The woman he'd come to see was a pale blotch on the bed, otherwise surrounded by the dark.  He was surprised to see that her hair was no longer than her shoulders, not nearly long enough for the hairstyle she'd been wearing earlier in the day.

   "Coming to offer more . . . assurances, Commodore Norrington?"  Winn paid the man no real attention as he came closer to the bed.  It didn't matter.  She had nothing left to hide, or at least no reason to continue hiding anything.

   Norrington slowed in his approach.  This was not a woman who grieved for a man who'd helped her.  "I know about your connection to the Morgans, Winifred."

   Winn nodded.  "Please, call me Winn.  I've always hated my first name."  She sighed.  "I suppose it would be hard to miss if I were sandwiched between my two brothers.  With just one of them . . . coincidence.  With two there's a strong family resemblance.  I've always said it was something about the nose, or perhaps the eyes."  Jack has beautiful eyes.

   Norrington looked down as something crinkled under his foot – a piece of paper.  He reached down to pick it up, turning it over when the side facing him was blank.  It was a picture of Jack Sparrow and a rather large dog – the one that had been found with the woman.  "Jack never really got along with Pigeon, although he tolerated her for my sake.  Do you think he was jealous of  a dog?"  Winn glanced over at Norrington, then back to the window.  "That would be silly . . . he's ever so much more entertaining than a dog, although not as obedient.  Pige comes when I call her.  See?"  Norrington looked around the room to see a large dog approaching the bed.  It had long silvery hair that curled near the ends, and it had to be at least three feet tall at the shoulder.

   Playing his hunch, he asked, "There's no 'Mr. Smith,' is there?"

   "Yes, there is.  My mother's maiden name was Smith, so my grandfather on that side was Mr. Smith.  And Smith is a very common name."  Winn let out a humorless laugh.  "If you insist on disturbing my melancholy, Commodore, please do have a seat and stop lurking at the corners of my vision.  I do believe it's giving me a headache."

   The Commodore paused, then picked up an entire sheaf of drawings before taking the seat to the side of the bed.  As he sat, he noticed that there were papers strewn over the length and breadth of the bed as well as on the floor surrounding it.  He looked at the ones he'd picked up; Sparrow at what was presumably the wheel of his ship, Sparrow with a mass of young children, Sparrow and the woman sitting on a beach on a blanket spread under some shade; Sparrow asleep; Sparrow with a look of pain on his face as a man behind him held a whip.  The woman hadn't been present for the pirate's inflated punishment – it was clear though that she was no stranger to what happened when a man was whipped.  "Mrs. Sparrow, I presume."

   "We killed him, you and I.  Or we will kill him."  Winn's voice was clear, but several tears started making their way down her cheeks.  "You because of the country, and the law, and the king you represent; I for the duty I came to mean to him."  Her knuckles turned white as she gripped the covers in a stranglehold.  "Things weren't supposed to end this way.  It was my fault he was captured, and then I went to get him back because we all thought that I was the one the merchant wanted, but we were wrong.  He wanted my baby, and he wanted Jack, but I was supposed to be left behind to mourn.  I didn't know mourning could be this cold."

   "He's not dead yet."

   "He will be.  He'll be lucky to even be awake in three days after thirty-five lashes.  Any plan for escape hinges on him being conscious at the very least."  The conversation dropped off for several minutes as Winn stared out her window and absently wondered what Norrington was doing here.  If he was looking to arrest her for piracy, he might well have enough evidence by now to arrest her.  Somewhere she knew that wasn't a good thing, but she really couldn't work up the energy to care.  Her entire body ached, her mind was numb, her spirit crumbling, her heart bleeding.  When one's heart breaks, you don't bleed to death, she decided.  You cry yourself to death, and it takes awhile because you never seem to care enough to actually weep.  "Do you know that pirates have oaths they keep, Commodore?"

   "No, I wasn't aware of that.  And please, call me James."

   Winn nodded, accepting part of his statement, or all of it, or merely acknowledging it.  "They do.  There are three oaths a man keeps on the sea; those made to his crew, and those made claiming revenge, and those he makes to his wife."

   "Are there certain oaths a pirate makes to his wife?"

   "Yes."  She let out a soft smile, and her hands started playing with something that flashed in the light – a ring.  "He promises to stay true to her, to guard her life with is own, and never abandon her when she needs him.  And she in turn, promises the same thing."

   "Did Sparrow make those promises to you?"

   "Yes.  And I made them to him.  Apparently he should have found someone more likely to keep her promises."

   "You lied?"

   "Not intentionally.  But I'm not at his side right now, am I?  I did nothing to keep Hallington from harming him, did I?"

   "You had other concerns.  I'm sure that," Norrington swallowed, then continued, "I'm sure that Sparrow would have you look after your child before looking after him."

   Winn laughed wetly.  "For a man who doesn't like pirates, you sound very much like my husband."

   "Where's the Black Pearl, Winn?"

   "I told you, my husband's ship took heavy damage and is being repaired."

   "Who damaged it?"  Winn shook her head, not wanting to answer the question.  Norrington pressed on anyway.  "Was it the same man who poisoned you?"

   The man who'd poisoned her to kill her child, the man who'd set them adrift so Jack would surrender himself to death for her sake, the man who Jack was never going to be able to kill because she'd killed Jack before he could kill the merchant.  "Yes."  He'd destroyed her home, had destroyed the place that held so many of her memories of Jack, had destroyed her family, her budding dreams for a new future.  For a new horizon.

   "What is his name, Winifred?  Tell me.  He deserves to face the Crown's justice even more than Sparrow does."  Winn shook her head, still unwilling to tell.  "Every time I've had the opportunity to arrest your husband, it's because he's taken the time to help someone.  He saved Elizabeth from drowning, he helped Will to break the curse that bound his mutinous crew, and he gave himself up for you.  I've never heard a story or report that said Jack Sparrow had spilt unnecessary blood.  Tell me who this man is."

   "He's not English, he's an Italian . . . ."

   "There are still steps that can be taken to bring him to justice.  The first is seeing him in custody."  Norrington set his sheaf of drawings on Winn's bedside table, catching her attention.  "Tell me his name."

   "He's a merchant, and his name is . . . Ignazio Gandolfi."  Winn's voice was barely above a whisper.  "I wasn't supposed to tell you."

   "Why not?"

   "Because I accidentally killed his son years ago.  He shot me first and I had a gun in my hand . . . and it just went off.  But Gandolfi didn't believe that."  Winn looked at Norrington.  "Are you going to arrest me for what I've said, Commodore?"

   "No.  There's been enough injustice done for Sparrow and those close to him.  I won't add to it."

   Winn nodded, then went back to looking out her window.  "He's a good man . . . ."

   "So I've been informed."

   ". . . but so are you."  Tears were coming faster now.  "My brother Ryan knows where Gandolfi is.  Now, if you'll leave me alone?  I find that it's harder to become a widow than I thought."

   Norrington left the room to go speak to Marcus and his brother.

Norrington was at work early the next morning when Hallington burst into his office.  In a dangerously controlled voice the Chancellor informed him, "Sparrow has escaped.  He's not in his cell."  Norrington carefully finished writing the report he was working on.  "I must wonder at the competence of the men at this fort and of their commanding officer if a man as badly beaten as Sparrow was allowed to –"

   The Commodore replaced his quill in his inkpot, then interrupted Hallington.  "Sparrow did not escape."

   "Commodore, if Sparrow is receiving medical attention against my expressed orders, then it will be your job, if not your head for treason."

   "Search the infirmary if you must, but you will not find Sparrow there."

   "Then where is he, Commodore?"

   "When I returned to the fort last night, I was informed that Sparrow had died from the wounds he received earlier in the day.  I ordered the body removed from his cell so it would not start to stink with the heat of the coming day.  I assume his remains were thrown into the sea.  A fitting end, if you ask me."

   Hallington smiled.  "I will have to check your story, of course, but I doubt I will find anything out of order.  Very well, Commodore.  Good day."  The Chancellor left the room and Norrington wondered what he was doing."

***********************************************************

Author's Note 2 – ok, lied about that being all I had to say.  Also have to say that I posted a new One Shot – this one is an Elizabeth POV based on the 'Peas in a Pod' line.  Go read it.  Now.  ^_^

Also, wanted to let you all know about a new story on the site.  It's called 'Never Been to Singapore', and it's by French Connection, a great girl I'm beta-ing for.  So go read it.  : P

Author's Thanks: I don't have the time to thank each and every one of you in depth, and for that I am sorry, but school AND this story have joined forces to kick my butt and I still have homework . . . and I'm sorry.  Next chapter, I promise.

Erica Dawn

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ArtemisRain – new reviewer!  Welcome.

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nightskyflightnew reviewer as well.  When you get here, many thanks for the review of chapter 15

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Oh, and a note here.  If I've never heard from you, but you have me on your favorites or author alert list (I know who you all are ^_^) but I've never heard from you, drop me a line.  I love hearing what I'm doing right, what you think I might be doing wrong, and what you think I could possibly do better.  I take all input under consideration.  ; )