Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Disney does. I don't make money with my fanfiction. I only make myself crazy.

I make mention of this in chapter 14 of A Pirate's Life and Death, so I thought I had better include it!

A Rare Gift

By Ecri

The Black Pearl cut through the bright blue waters at full speed leaving a great white wake behind it. The smell of the salt air had long been something Captain Jack Sparrow no longer noticed unless it was gone, but he could still enjoy it if he chose. The salt spray hit him full in the face as he leaned out over the sea, his eyes on the horizon, and the taste of salt on his lips made him smile. The Pearl was miles from land, and this, Jack had long ago realized, was what he loved most about his life on the sea. Life on land was so crowded. Packs of people hemming you in on all sides and houses built up close to each other. Even drunks and vagrants seemed all to huddle close to each other leaning into each other's space and ignoring their proximity. It was something Jack could never understand.

The seathat he could understand. The vast open stretches of blue sea gave him more a feeling of peace and belonging than any city could. It amazed him when he saw men in whom he recognized the call of the sea and yet they chose to live on land. Not that he was thinking of anyone in particular, of course.

"Sail, ho!" A voice penetrated his thoughts, shattering them like a hammer on glass and driving them from his mind. He looked upwards to find one of his crew climbing down the rigging and gesturing wildly off the port side of the ship.

Jack turned his attention there to see a ship, a large ship with clean, white sails, making excellent time across the horizon. He squinted at it, but he couldn't make out the name of the ship at this distance. Still, it wasn't so far away that he couldn't catch up to it. It looked spit and polished and rode low in the water, heavy with cargo.

His small smile grew to a grin as he issued orders to a crew already in anticipation of them. Jack stared at the ship as they drew closer to it hoping to identify it before The Pearl herself was recognized. As they drew nearer, he knew the Pearl had been spotted, and, more to the point, identified. It seemed to him that he could almost hear the panic aboard as the crew started pointing at the Pearl and scurrying about.

The sound of cannon shot, the crack when they hit target and the splash when they didn't, filled the air. This was the business of piracy, and Jack threw himself into his chosen profession with abandon, doing all he could to live up to his reputation as a Mad Pirate Captain.

**

Jack was sorting through some of the choicest bits and bobbles from their latest raid when he heard an unmistakable sound. He didn't bother to look up. When Anamaria wanted to speak to him, speak to him she would, so, rather that ask what she wanted, he sighed dramatically. "Go on, then, love."

When she didn't speak right away, he looked up from his counting and figuring to glare at her slender form silhouetted in the doorway. "That's what I said. Just stand there and glare at me. What more could a man want from a lovely pirate lass such as yourself?"

He returned his attention to a particularly fine necklace he'd taken from the captain of the now departed vessel. Undoubtedly, he'd meant it for his paramour, but Jack was certain she wouldn't have appreciated its true value as he did. Women always attached such sentimental nonsense to a good piece of jewelry.

When Anamaria finally did speak, he'd almost forgotten she was standing there.

"Jack, we've been at sea for nearly 8 months now without sight of land let alone a chance to step onto a beach. Don't you think it's time for us to head to some port or other?" Anamaria crossed her arms across her chest and waited for a response.

Jack didn't really want to respond, and tried another heavy, dramatic sigh hoping to send her on her way. When she didn't take the hint, he rolled his eyes and stood, matching her glare and her posture. Again, she didn't respond, and Jack grew tired of the staring match. Waving his arms vaguely around the room, he spoke in his best pirate drawl. "Why do we need to stop at port? We've been taking supplies from the ships we've come across" he raised an arm to ward off any objections she might have. "Always remembering to leave them enough to get to port themselves!" He moved over to her side and dropped his voice to a confidential whisper. "Be reasonable, my dear. We've no need to go to port."

"Jack." She said the name like it was a curse. "Maybe you can thrive on the sea for all the days of yer life, but the rest of us have need to walk on land from time to timeto stop at a tavern and get a bit of rum"

"We have rum aboard!"

"To findcompanionship or visit old friends." She spoke louder after his interruption.

He smiled at her. "If you've need of diversions one evening, Anamaria, I'd be 'appy"

She pushed him away with both hands and made a noise that perfectly expressed her disgust with him. "You'd be 'appy, and so would every other member of the crew! Jack! I'm the only woman aboard a ship of pirates! If they don't see their favorite tavern wenches soon, I'll have a full time job just fightin' off their advances."

Jack didn't move or blink for a moment or two. "Ah. I see. Sticky situation, that is."

Anamaria shook her head in irritation. "What is it, Jack? Why are you so dead set against makin' berth somewhere?"

Jack's left hand waved in the air a bit as though trying to pluck the reasons from somewhere around them. "I've nothin' against it, love. I'll turn the ship toward Tortuga now, if that's where you'd like to go."

She smiled. "Aye, Jack. That would be fine."

He nodded. "I can be reasonable."


Anamaria raised an eyebrow.

"On occasion." He amended his statement. He strode past her towards the door and began barking orders to his crew, ignoring the cheers when they realized their destination. "Landlubbers," he whispered as he went back to his cabin.

"Jack"

"You still here, love? We're 'eadin' to Tortuga. We should be there in a week's time if we catch a bit of wind." He moved past her as though that was the end of it.

"Jack"

"Leave it alone, Anamaria." He spoke softly and with a seriousness and a sanity to his tone that he rarely used. Whether she was put off by the unfamiliarity of it or because she could tell he needed her to obey him that once, he didn't know, but he sighed—in relief this time—as she nodded once and headed back out on deck.

"Leave it alone." He whispered to himself that time as he wondered if she had caught some insight he himself had not noticed.

**

Warm, Caribbean breezes filled the Black Pearl's sails and Jack watched them billow as his ship cut through the water. It was a sight to behold and never failed to impress him. That their speed and course could largely be directed by the whims of weather was what made sailing so intriguing to him.

Chance was a funny thing. Lady Luck was fickle. He'd heard plenty of adages about it, but it fascinated him nonetheless. For instance, if he had chosen not to trust Barbossa as far as he hadhe'd have been cursed with the rest of his crew. Of course, things would have been drastically different, for surely, Barbossa and the shipload of mutineers would have done away with him much as they had Bootstrap. Then the curse would not have been broken for he had no children whose blood they could spill. They'd have had to find him to undo the curse, and, of course, he wouldn't have been so very cooperative if they had.

Chance, luck, fortunethese things had led him all his life, and it amazed him still when chance managed to surprise him as it had when he'd learned who Will Turner was.

He wasn't sure why his thoughts seemed to drift back to the young blacksmith every so often. The lad was a natural on the sea, though, that much he could not deny even if the boy chose to live his life on land. That Will Turner had heard the call of the sea Jack did not doubt, but Will had found the strength to turn his back on the salt and surf that were in his blood. Jack knew the strength to do such a thing was all that kept Will Turner from following in his father's footstepsand that strength was clad in petticoats and ribbons.

Elizabeth Swann had a hold on Will Turner that rivaled any hold the sea could have. Jack shrugged. Perhaps he had it backwards.

Was it possible that Bootstrap had felt about Will's mother as Will felt about Elizabeth yet the call of the sea was too strong to ignore. This would mean Will's love of the sea, recently awakened to be sure, was less than his love for Elizabeth.


Of course, it could be that his love of Elizabeth was simply stronger than Bootstrap's love for Will's mother. Pondering the percentages and the likelihoods made Jack's head ache and he dropped the thought for now.

He sighed staring out the window surprised to find the sun had set yet again while he'd been pondering things best left unpondered. Standing, he strolled from his cabin to the deck of the Black Pearl. They would make land by midday.

He knew Anamaria was right and the crew desperately needed to walk upon solid ground again, and his reluctance to do so had surprised him when he'd given himself leave to consider it. He hadn't realized he'd been avoiding port, but of course he had.

Why?

He had to be honest with himself. The time he'd spent with Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann had made him realize that he missed certain attachments in his life. Friendship had been something he'd denied himself after he'd managed to escape from that island where Barbossa and The Pearl's crew had left him. Bootstrap had been his friend. Bootstrap had tried to save him. He recalled it know vividly, though he'd long suppressed the memory.

Jack sat cross-legged on the floor of the cage in the hold that served as the Pearl's Brig. Barbossa had told him what he could expect, and Captain Jack Sparrow wasn't one to hope in vain for mercy from the merciless. That his entire crew had been so easily swayed to betray him had been more a shock to the young captain than he'd have cared to admit. He'd always been a lousy judge of character. Bootstrap Bill had once called him too trusting. He could hardly argue.

"Jack"

No sound before that whisper had told the captain that anyone was present and he cursed himself for his inattentiveness. He had sunk into a depression and given no thought at all to whatever else his captors might have in mind.

He turned towards the sound and saw Bootstrap Bill Turner kneeling by the cell door inserting a key into the lock. "Come on, Jack! No time to waste!"


Jack smiled the smile of a condemned man given a reprieve and took a step forward, then stopped. The smile faded and he stood staring at the only man aboard who had remained his loyal friend. "Bootstrap, what do ye think ye're doin'?"

Bootstrap stared at Jack a scowl on his handsome, boyish features. "I'm learning the tarantella! What do you think I'm doin', mate? C'mon! We've got to go!"

"Did you gather support among the crew?" Jack still didn't move.

"Supportfor the love ofJack! We don't 'ave time for this! Barbossa says we'll be at that island by midday tomorrow! I've got one o' the lifeboats full of supplies. If we leave now, we can be"

"We can be found by midday tomorrow and back by sometime the next morning! Are ye daft, man? If they catch us then, you'll be left with me on that bit of rock, or else killed outright for 'offerin' aid to a man condemned by yer captain!"

Bootstrap Bill shook his head. "You be the only captain I'm servin' at the moment, Jack."

Jack was touched by the words, but wanted no part in his only friend throwing his life away. Besides, he knew these waters a slight bit better than Bill. There was no island they could reach before the Pearl caught up with them. "Ye can't, William. If ye go and throw yer lot in wi'me, who'll send money to that lad o'yers?"

"I'll not abandon ye, Jack!"

"No, you won't, will ye?" Jack smiled. "I'm not altruistic by nature, William, so ye best be takin' advantage of it when the urge strikes me. Go on. Lock the door. I'll manage to get out of this scrape same as I always do."


Bootstrap stared at his friend, but Jack just leaned forward into a shaft of light that filtered down from a crack above his head. The light glinted off teeth and eyes offering a hint of insanity in the otherwise fair features. "After all, I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."

Bill smiled at his friend and shook his head. He'd opened his mouth to speak, but what he would have said Jack never heard. A sound on the steps caused the man to lose his nerve and slam the cell door shut. "I'll be back for ye, Jack."

He'd come back, too, and had tried to convince Jack to follow his fool plan. Looking back, he still didn't know what had possessed him. He was never one to turn away free help. He was never one to make a grand or noble gesture. He was a pirate, and a good one. Take what you can and give nothing back had been the rule he lived by long before he'd ever heard it put into words. He and William Turner though, they had always shared a tight bond. Close as brothers or closer. Bootstrap was a good pirate, but a better friend. He'd do what was right even if he had to break a few rules—or laws—to do it. Jack smiled. It was a trait that seemed to have been passed on to the next generation of Turners. Determination, conviction


Jack had known William would stand by him, but he had also known the odds were too great for them to win. Barbossa would never have settled for their escape. He would have come after them, and Jack knew his friend longed to return home one day and find his family. He couldn't very well do that if Barbossa ran him through.

Besides, Jack knew things that he didn't share with his long time friend. He'd known the island where Barabossa planned to leave him. He was well aware that the rum smugglers used it to hide their rum, and that he wouldn't have a long wait before they happened by. That he could persuade them to take him along was something he knew for certain.

Bootstrap hadn't been easy to convince, but Jack had used the man's love for the son he'd never seen to his advantage. William was forever sending money or trinkets home to the lad who he claimed bore his name. He even received letters on one or two occasions from the lad's mother telling Bootstrap all about his child and what a strong, willful lad he was becoming. Bootstrap had regaled him with the words time and again and would often look for letters in port whenever they managed to find their way to one.

That Bootstrap Bill Turner could read at all had surprised Jack almost as much as his own ability to do so had surprised Bill. The two had shared a laugh about it, but neither knew much about the other's background or how they'd come by the rare talent.

Jack was surprised as he took in his surroundings to find that the sky was turning a rosy pink, and the last tendrils of evening were giving way to the first blush of dawn.

The Pearl came alive soon with the sounds of the men—and woman—moving about and doing their duties. Jack watched them as they did, keeping his attention, as always, on the horizon. Just before midday, they made port. Tortuga, bustling and busy at this time of day, was a welcome sight to all aboard. Even Jack himself smiled at the thought of spending a bit of time in the saloon or with one of the ladies he'd befriended on his previous stays in the infamous pirate-friendly town.

He was nursing his third shot of rum when the barman coming on shift caught sight of him and made his way to Jack's side. Jack saw him and immediately downed his rum. "Another wouldn't go amiss!" He declared as he held up the glass in one wavering hand.

The Barman poured from a bottle he'd brought with him and laid a large package before the slightly inebriated Pirate Captain.

Jack stared at it, his body shifting from side to side as though trying to force himself to focus by altering his body's position much as one twisted a telescope to bring things into sharp relief. "I don't think I ordered a brown bundle of paper." He looked at the barman. "As a matter of fact, I'm quite certain I didn't."

"It's been left 'ere for ye, mate. A man told me to 'old it for Captain Jack Sparrow the next time 'e made port. Yer 'im." The man grinned and held out his hand.

Jack stared at the hand, still swaying. Realizing the man wanted compensation of some kind, he felt about in his pockets. Finding only two gold coins, he gave them both to the man. "I'm 'opin' that's generous enough to convince ye to pour me an extra shot afore ye go." Jack smiled his most disarming smile.

The man looked at the bottle in his hand, and, as there were only a few shots in it, he left the bottle and returned to his work.

Jack stared at the brown bundle before him. He still wavered in his seat and it was by sheer force of will that he was able to stop himself long enough to read the writing. Unfortunately it told him nothing he didn't already know. "Captain Jack Sparrow. The Black Pearl." He read the words carefully, and wondered who would send him a large brown bundle.


Tearing open the paper was out of the question. He'd have to take this to his cabin on the Pearl. If it was some clue to some treasure, or a treasure itself, he couldn't afford to have the cutthroats in the bar try to take it from him.

Rising, he began the short walk back to his ship. The package wasn't overly heavy, though it wasn't feather light, either. He walked back with his eyes scanning the crowd just waiting for some threat to appear. A package of this size was a difficult thing to ignore, and he was certain someone would want to claim it.


His paranoia for once was wrong, and he soon found himself alone aboard the Pearl. Locked inside his cabin, Jack lit one small lamp on his desk and stared at the brown bundle. Anticipation bade him tear it open, but prudence pleaded for him to consider who might have sent it and if it might not warrant caution. Curiosity won, however, and soon he was tearing open the paper.

Devoid of its wrappings, the box was as intriguing as the bundle had been. Hinged on one long side and with a lock and handle on the other, it was obviously a case for something valuable. Prudence dictated a careful inspection and he bowed to it to make up for ignoring such a precaution when he'd torn into it.

The wooden box was a simple thing. Well-crafted, but not elaborate. It did have a feature he found most disconcerting. A plate of polished steel and carefully engraved with the words Captain Jack Sparrow adorned the box's lid. The steel plate was large and covered a good portion of the case and below his name, Jack was astonished to see a perfect copy of the bird and rainbow tatoo on his arm.

Intrigued, and unable to contain his curiosity, Jack unlatched the lid and eased it open. There, nestled within a velvet-lined interior, was the finest sword Jack Sparrow had ever laid eyes on. His breath caught in his throat as he lovingly eased the weapon from the case and held it in his hand. The balance was perfect. A practice slash or two made the weapon sing as the blade cut the air and Jack could tell the perfectly sharpened blade would leave a man little in the way of second chances if he were to end up on the wrong end of the handsome weapon.


Jack brought the hilt to eye level and examined the craftsmanship. Exquisite was the only word that leapt to mind as Jack took in the intricate filigree and the strength of the blade and hilt as a whole.

Glancing back down at the case's interior, he saw a small square of paper. Carefully, he replaced the blade, knowing it would be a treasure he'd never willingly give up, but wondering how he had come by it. Who had sent him such a thing?

Picking up the paper, he saw his name, sans title, simply the word 'Jack' in neat script. He turned the paper over and saw a bit of wax holding it shut. Tearing into it, he opened the letter and read.

Jack,

I hope this letter finds you well, if it finds you at all. I wanted to thank you properly for all you've done for me. There's little I have, so there's little I can offer. My skills as a blacksmith are all I have in this life save for my darling Elizabeth.


I fashioned this sword for you. It's as fine a blade as I can make, and I hope it serves you well. It is but small payment for your aid in reuniting me with Elizabeth, whom I hope soon to make my wife.

I have done all I can to see this gets to you, though I doubt I will ever know if it does. If it does, Jack, know that I am grateful, and that I think of you as a friend.


With deepest respect and affection,

Will Turner

Jack reread the letter three times before sitting down heavily upon the chair. Will Turner, bless his heart! Had the lad really thought saving him from the gallows wasn't enough of a show of gratitude? Had he really somehow imagined he owed Jack more than that?

Jack shook his head. The boy was an odd one! Willliam Turner the Younger was not one to back down from his convictions. He had believed he needed to do this for Jack, and, somehow, in his busy schedule, had found the time to craft a sword the like of which Jack Sparrow had never seen before.


The letter, of course, raised other issues. Eyeing the line that claimed 'My skills as a blacksmith are all I have in this life save for my darling Elizabeth,' gave Jack pause. Will Turner was quite possibly better with a sword than any other man Jack had ever fought against. He'd quickly become adept at the hard work of sailing, though Jack suspected that was in his blood. "The lad's got no sense of self-worth!" He muttered to himself in wonder. He had never had that problem himself. After all, he was Captain Jack Sparrow.

Port Royal's Blacksmith also claimed to have 'done all I can to see this gets to you', which was a loaded phrase if ever Jack had read one!

Sending mail to a pirate was no easy task. There was no way of knowing where or when a pirate ship might put in to a port legitimate enough to accept mail, and those few who ended up entrusted with such letters or packages weren't always above stealing anything worth the effort and destroying everything else. Will had to have paid handsomely or threatened soundly to have been able to secure the package in Tortuga.

Then of course, there were other matters to consider. A pirate entrusted with taking this package from Port Royal to Tortuga would have had to have found berth in Port Royal to begin with. Then, Will would have had to find him. No easy task considering how Norrington and his men patrolled the ports to keep such men and their ships away.

Unlessa shiver ran down his spine at this supposition, but perhaps the lad had thrown caution to the wind and found passage to Tortuga himself on the off chance he'd find Jack there and not need to leave the package with anyone.

Whatever path he'd taken to be sure he got the package, Will had taken an awful chance. If Norrington or one of his men had caught Turner there, the sword would have been confiscated and Will's life could easily have ended at the end of a rope. Arming a pirate, even with only one sword, was considered by some to be a crime equal to treason. At the very least, the lad might have found himself imprisoned for such a thing, regardless of any strings the governor's daughter might try to pull.

He shook his head as he realized how much of a friend he had in Will Turner. It was the rarest of gifts, and one he found, to his immense surprise, that he valued even more than the fine sword.

"Many thanks, Will Turner." Captain Jack Sparrow whispered as he eased himself into his chair and drank a shot of rum to the health of his friend.

The End