Wow! Five reviews for the prologue alone! A few things to note before I
move to the reviews. First, as you'll notice, this is a Norrington-
friendly fic. I originally planned to put Alicia and James together. .
.however, Alicia overruled me. (annoyed look) So. If things work out,
the love story for James will come out of this one.
Secondly, while I've tried to keep this historically accurate, I've also tried to stay true to the film. I think I've managed to avoid the glaring errors (like referring to people between the ages of thirteen and nineteen as 'teenagers.' That term wasn't coined until after 1945), but my lingo dictionary is still packed, so I may have missed a few.
Reviews:
Magoo: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying this!
Sailor Elf: Actually, I've noticed your liking for that word, but I can also think of a lot of adjectives that would be far worse than 'interesting.' Hope you continue to enjoy this.
Aria-hannah: Thought I might find you here eventually! Glad you like my take on Jack, because he's probably the most difficult character for me to write.
Savvy-Rum-Drinker: Thank you! I'm glad to hear that, and I hope it continues to hold your attention. I shall certainly do my best to keep this up and get more chapters written.
Kitrazzle Fayn: Here you are, me dearie, the next chapter! It took me a bit longer than I anticipated because it wasn't gelling the way I originally planned. Once I stopped arguing with the characters, it worked much better.
On with the story!
Part One
It was a lovely wedding, on a lovely day. Alicia Webster quietly fanned herself as she looked over the guests. It seemed like most of Port Royal turned out for the wedding of the governor's daughter to the local blacksmith. If only to laugh at the sheer absurdity. The very idea of a lady like Elizabeth Swann marrying Will Turner, a blacksmith and the son of a known pirate! And yet, that 'ridiculous idea of a wedding,' as Alicia heard it called, was taking place.
Perhaps Governor Swann thought his daughter was marrying below her. And yet, it seemed to many that he was fond of the young blacksmith. Alicia smiled, thinking of Elizabeth Swann's new husband. She met him almost nine years earlier, when Lieutenant James Norrington brought him to Port Royal. He was twelve at the time, and she was one-and-twenty, newly married. Alicia's smile died as she thought of her late and unlamented husband.
He died not long after their wedding, murdered under mysterious circumstances. The man, if he could indeed be called a man, was split open from gullet to gut. His body was found outside a tavern. As his wife, Alicia was the first and most obvious suspect. She hated him, but she was unconscious when he left to go to the tavern for the last time. The result of yet another beating. Lieutenant Norrington vouched for her, for it was he who found her, with the aid of a frantic young boy. And it was the young lieutenant who carried her to a doctor.
She could have hired an assassin, yes. However, Alicia had not her own money at the time, according to her husband's barrister. It was decided that Ramsey Webster was likely killed by a pirate. What was one more misdeed to add to their list of mischief making? Although the murder of Ramsey Webster would have been considered a public service, by many.
"A magnificent day for a wedding, is it not?" a familiar voice inquired at her elbow. Alicia's smile returned as she looked at her new companion. Commodore James Norrington smiled back, though there was still some sadness in his eyes. Poor man. He did love Elizabeth. James continued, "I was hoping you would be here today, Mrs Webster. I feel caught between two very strong emotions, and it is not a pleasant sensation in the least."
Alicia slipped her arm through his, replying softly, "How many times must I tell you to call me 'Alicia,' my dear Commodore?" Her teasing query made him smile in turn. His soldiers often made the mistake of thinking him without a sense of humor, but over the last few years, Alicia often saw the true James Norrington make an appearance on more than one occasion.
"To quote young Mr Turner, at least once more, as always, my lady," came the reply. Alicia laughed softly. If she was her daughter's age, she would have clapped her hands in delight. James continued, "Where is Miss Tamsyn? I know she is quite taken with Mr Turner." Alicia's laughter wasn't quite as subdued this time, though still not loud enough to attract attention. Her six months as the wife of Ramsey Webster taught her the need for invisibility. Besides, while her daughter's infatuation with the young blacksmith was amusing, it was also worrisome to Alicia.
"Tamsyn is writing a letter, detailing why Will should have married her," Alicia replied after a moment, "and told me last night that the two of you should join forces. I waited until she went to bed before laughing. I did not want her to misunderstand. Tamsyn is alarmingly adult for an eight year old, but she is still just a little girl. And truthfully, James, I sometimes find it hard to believe that so much time has passed."
"She is growing into quite a young lady. You should be proud of her," James remarked and Alicia's smile turned sad. Yes, she was very proud of her daughter, so grateful for such a wonderful gift from such a terrible time in her life. James said after a moment, "I have ever been grateful to Mr Turner for being so persistent when he found you and ran for me. I don't believe I would have ever forgiven myself if you or Tamsyn died because of my stupidity."
"James, it is hardly your fault! You saved both of our lives that night, and never think that I've forgotten that!" Alicia retorted, glaring at him. James ducked his head and Alicia sighed, then went on in a more gentle voice, "Listen to me. You were trapped by the law, James, the same law that gave Mr Webster ownership over me. There was nothing you could have done."
"Sometimes, an act of piracy is the right thing," James said, almost under his breath. Alicia blinked in surprise. James added with a rueful smile, "Something Governor Swann said to me, regarding Jack Sparrow." Alicia laughed and James continued, "You surprise me, Mrs Webster. You seem fond of that pirate." Alicia arched her eyebrows, trying very hard to disguise her annoyance. She was failing miserably, and heard the ice in her own voice.
"Commodore Norrington, I have known worse beings than pirates. It might surprise you, but even Barbossa was once a different man," she replied. The commodore looked shocked. Alicia turned away, suddenly remembering herself and her place. She rarely thought about her early life, simply because she could not forgive her mother. She was sure Julia believed she was doing the right thing. . .but one form of slavery was traded for another.
"Forgive me, I did not mean to offend you. Truly, Alicia, I look on you as a friend. It is only that you startled me. You knew Barbossa once?" James asked. Alicia nodded, staring sightlessly into the crowd. She knew Hector Barbossa. She knew Jack Sparrow. She was bounced on their respective knees, when she wasn't much younger than Tamsyn. There were times when she actually wished either of those men raised her. The good Christians of Port Royal, no doubt, would have been shocked and appalled.
But those same good Christians looked down their noses at her, and helped to bind her in marriage to a man who was incapable of compassion or gentleness, much less love or tenderness. Alicia replied softly, "I knew him before he turned into the monster he became. He wasn't always like that, James. He wasn't always a traitor and a mutineer. Wasn't always so evil that hell itself spat him back out. I remember feeling safe with him. I. . ."
She was on the point of saying more, when the newly married couple appeared in her line of sight. Alicia smiled at both Will and Elizabeth, dropping the subject immediately. Though nearly a year passed since the young girl's ordeal at the hands of Barbossa, Alicia didn't fool herself into thinking that Elizabeth was over it. Such things, such violations, took far more time to heal than just a year. She knew that from painful personal experience.
"Will! Elizabeth! I am so happy for you both!" Alicia said, smiling broadly at the young couple. She took Elizabeth's hands first and kissed the young girl on each cheek, then repeated the gesture with Will. He looked stunned, and she looked radiant. Was she ever that young and innocent? If she was, it seemed like an eternity ago. Elizabeth beamed, the joy dimming ever so slightly when she looked at James. Alicia knew it was never the girl's intention to break James' heart, and that was one reason she forgave young Elizabeth so quickly.
The other reason was far more selfish. Though she was fond of James, Alicia loved Will. Just as Elizabeth did, and Alicia understood the girl did what she believed what had to be done, to save Will. Something Alicia could understand very well. Though nearly twenty-five years passed since her last meeting with her father, his image was burned into her mind. The moment she heard Will Turner's name, almost nine years earlier, she knew whom he was.
And every day since then, as he grew up, he served as a reminder. He looked just like his father. Just like *their* father. Behaved just like the man who helped to create them both. And not for the first time, the young woman wished her father sired two sons, rather than a son and a daughter. Alicia Webster made the marriage her mother wanted. But it cost her dearly, and it taught her that money couldn't replace family. Alicia's family only consisted of her eight year old daughter, and her twenty year old brother. . . and of course, Will didn't know that.
As for family. . .the last thing she learned from her father before he left that last time, driven away by her mother, was that family meant everything. It was because of family that Bootstrap Bill left his doxy and their child. And it was because of family that he vowed to return. Even making a promise that nearly tore out his heart. It was hardly his fault that Julia Monroe refused to keep her promise. It wasn't his fault that rather than contacting him, as *she* promised, Julia chose to sell her daughter to a wealthy couple.
Yes, Alicia Webster knew exactly whom Will Turner was. She knew that it was his blood that was necessary to set the Black Pearl free. Jack told her the truth before he left Port Royal the last time. He told her everything. He told her how her father died. He told her about her brother's actions in the name of love. He even told her why her blood wouldn't break the curse of the Black Pearl. It was very simple. She didn't have the cursed medallion.
There was another reason, as Jack well knew, for he told his crew that Will was Bootstrap Bill's only child. Alicia. . .or Camille, as she was known then. . .was the child of Bootstrap Bill and Julia. Everyone knew that. But Bootstrap wasn't the only man who loved Julia. So did Barbossa. Even as depraved as he became, he could never bring himself to harm the daughter of his precious Julia. Even if she did carry the same blood as the man who ultimately condemned him to a living hell.
Yet, with those questions answered, others remained. For one. . .why did Jack not come to her for aid when he was captured in Port Royal? For another, how could they be sure that her father was dead? Yes, she knew that he was dropped into the ocean with cannon balls attached to his bootstraps. And she knew that he sent his cursed coin to England and Will. But. . .he was still cursed. Just like the others.
Ten years passed since that day. . .who was to say that her father didn't find some way out of his un-natural bonds? He was immortal. . .he could breathe under water. Alicia wasn't convinced that her father truly was dead. Even if the coin passed to her younger brother, her father still took part in the raid on that accursed island. He would be marked by the same curse as the others. . .Barbossa had to know that.
There was no way of knowing. Perhaps he did, perhaps he didn't. And perhaps she would never truly know what happened to her father. To *their* father. She was unaware of the time she stared silently at her brother under the brim of her hat, until a soft, almost anxious voice asked, "Mistress Webster. . .are you ill?" Alicia shook herself. She looked into her brother's dark eyes, and struggled against gasping. He really did look alarmingly like her father.
She would have thought by now, the resemblance wouldn't take her breath away. His resemblance to William Turner became noticeable about four or five years earlier. And yet, each time she looked at her younger brother, Alicia was magically transported into the past. Sometimes, no matter how hard she tried to see her brother, it was always their father staring back at her. Every time she looked into Will's brown eyes, she felt like she was five years old, and staring into her father's eyes, the last time she saw him. She understood his agony now. Alicia couldn't imagine being forcibly separated from Tamsyn, and hoped she never would. She understood a lot more now.
"I am well. Did I thank you for the sword you made Diego?" Alicia answered, grabbing onto the first topic of conversation she could legitimately claim as an excuse to talk with her brother a little while longer. She felt vaguely guilty about asking James to stand here and listen to this, but so rare was the opportunity that she could speak to her brother for any length of time. Even if he didn't know they were brother and sister.
And there was no need for James Norrington to know everything about Diego. It was known that he was her husband's by-blow, and that he sometimes visited her and Tamsyn while he was in port. But there were other things about Diego no one, not James, not even Will, needed to know. Her brother smiled, his dark eyes lighting up as they always did when someone complimented him on his work, and he replied, "At least ten times, Mistress Webster."
Curiously, Elizabeth was in no hurry to drag her husband away, so Alicia took the unexpected gift that was offered. So, she continued, "Good. Diego has been so kind to Tamsyn and myself, I wanted to do something special for his most recent birthday. I thought immediately of you. He is something of a collector," (well, that was true enough), "and he was quite delighted with it."
"I must admit, I thought almost everyone in Port Royal was convinced that Mr Brown was the blacksmith who crafted those swords. Then I learn that not only did Commodore Norrington know the truth, but you have known all along. How?" Will asked. He looked so innocent, so honestly amazed that the subterfuge no longer worked. Alicia looked up at James, whose smile didn't seem in the least bit forced. Strange. She would have thought he was holding onto his composure with both hands.
Since he seemed so relaxed, Alicia asked with a grin for her long- time friend, "Do you wish to tell him the truth, James, or shall I?" James made a sweeping gesture, almost a mock-bow. Hmm. He was full of surprises today! Alicia turned her attention back to her brother, explaining, "Most of us noticed that Mister Brown was often inebriated. I would not say it is impossible, however, I would say it is *most* difficult to turn out such excellent work while totally and complete drunk."
On the other hand, Mister Brown wasn't Jack Sparrow, who seemed to think best when he was drunk. Assuming, of course, he wasn't pretending to be drunk, the way he pretended to be crazy. Something, Alicia had no doubt, her brother learned while the pair sailed off to rescue Elizabeth. Realizing that she monopolized her brother's time, the widow told her new sister-in-law, "My apologies, dear Elizabeth. I should let you dance with your husband. Thank you so much for inviting me to your wedding."
"I am so glad you came! You know, my father has never been able to make up his mind whether he admires you for your graciousness with Diego, or appalled that you openly acknowledge him as your family," Elizabeth replied. Alicia was grateful that Elizabeth kept her voice low. Such things were not acknowledged in public. Everyone knew such things happened, such things existed. . .but it wasn't spoken of in polite company. The same polite company that allowed such things to happen.
More pleasantries were exchanged, then Will and Elizabeth made their way. There were other guests that required their attention. With a soft sigh of resignation, Alicia watched her brother go. There would be other times. Other times, once she could figure out a way to ask Will about their father without giving anything away. She wasn't ready to tell him the truth. She didn't think he was ready to hear it, either. Not when he was still reeling from the revelation that their father was a pirate.
James said into the silence that followed, "Forgive me for asking, but your regard for. . . your husband's son. Is that a result of your own experiences?" Alicia frowned, and James added, "I know about your mother, Alicia. I presume that is how you knew Mr Sparrow and Mr Barbossa." Alicia felt her jaw drop open in surprise, and the commodore smiled almost boyishly, adding, "Oh, come! I investigated your husband's appointment with serendipity, you know!"
Alicia shook her head in disbelief. When she could finally manage to say something, it was the totally inane, "Well. This is most unexpected!" *Very intelligent,* she told herself scathingly. After a moment, she continued, "So, you know about my past. Well, then. I would have to say. . .yes. Yes, growing up as I did, first with my mother, then with my master and mistress, that is where my. . .that is why I behave as I do toward Diego."
"I see," came the thoughtful reply, "when I meant to hang Jack Sparrow eight months ago, I investigated his whereabouts when your late husband was killed. I would have liked to give him a medal, if he turned out to be a guilty party." Now Alicia was stunned. Did James Norrington just say that? The commodore added, "However, I am convinced it was not Sparrow. Though he is, without a doubt, the worst pirate I've ever heard of. . .he is not that vicious."
Alicia couldn't resist. She waggled one finger at him, saying, "First, he might be the worst pirate you've ever heard of him. But you *have* heard of him." James rolled his eyes, and Alicia barely bit back a laugh. She knew Jack would say that, if James told him he was the worst pirate he ever heard of. And she knew James would say such a thing. The widow continued, "And second. . .Jack Sparrow can be vicious. Though he is a pirate, Jack is a gentle person at heart. And it's the gentle who are the most dangerous when they are pushed too far. Would Jack have killed my husband, if he got word that Webster almost killed me? Of a certainty. Would he have killed him in such a manner? That, I do not know."
The pair sat silently on the bench, neither really seeing the crowd. After a moment, James said, "Well. Enough of such a gloomy topic on such a magnificent day. Mistress Webster, would you care to dance?" Alicia accepted the escape route she was given, and smiled at the commodore. James took her hand and drew her to her feet. They were, after all, at a wedding!
. . .
Elizabeth Swann Turner watched James Norrington and Alicia Webster with interest. She remained friends with the commodore over the months since she chose Will. Or perhaps, it would be better to say that they really became friends this time. He still loved her. . .Elizabeth knew that. A man like James Norrington didn't give his heart lightly. And she regretted hurting him. But her heart belonged to Will Turner. That was the case ever since they were children.
Was she the slightest bit jealous that the commodore's attention was turning to Alicia Webster? No, Elizabeth decided after a moment. The widow was always kind to her, without treating Elizabeth like a child. And she wasn't really old. If Elizabeth was correct, she thought she remembered her father saying that Mrs Webster was one and twenty when they arrived at Port Royal. . .which meant that the widow was approaching thirty. Not old at all. And heaven knew she deserved some happiness, after what that horrid man did to her.
That, Elizabeth knew about from Will. Mr Webster's murder took place only weeks after their arrival at Port Royal. Will was running errands for Mr Brown, as part of his new apprenticeship. To this day, Elizabeth still couldn't remember why Will even went to Mr Webster's home, but he did, and found Mrs Webster unconscious in the foyer. She was curled up in a ball, and it wasn't until much later that Elizabeth learned the young widow was trying to protect her unborn child before she lost consciousness.
Will ran from the house, screaming for help. The first person he encountered was Lt James Norrington. At first disinclined to listen to the boy's frantic gasps that someone was hurt, only Will's breathy explanation that he thought Mrs Webster was with child broke through. At that point, it became a race between the boy and the man to reach the house first. Later, Will explained that his mother was a midwife who sometimes cared for pregnant women brutalized by their husbands. Such a thing was too horrible for the child Elizabeth to comprehend.
"What do you think has them so intrigued?" Will asked softly at her side. Elizabeth didn't answer at first. No, she wanted to savor the feel of Will's breath against her skin, his arms around her waist, and the knowledge that she was now Elizabeth Turner. When she told Barbossa, all those months ago, that she was Elizabeth Turner, was she indulging in her quiet and private fantasy of loving the young blacksmith? Perhaps. And perhaps she was trying to save the life of her childhood friend.
For whatever reason, she made that choice. . .and realized the days that followed that she loved Will. He became what he hated most, in order to save her. He was willing to sacrifice his life, his freedom, perhaps even his very soul, to protect her. When the Interceptor blew up, presumably killing the reluctant pirate, Elizabeth wanted to die with him. He loved her, as she learned at Jack's hanging. . .and she loved him.
Now, she was his wife, and Elizabeth had no doubts that more adventures would find them. She heard about the curse from Jack and from Barbossa, and as the days turned into weeks, then into months, Elizabeth stopped and thought about what it meant. While the coin was no longer in the possession of Bootstrap Bill Turner, Will's father, he was cursed, just as the others were. Which meant. . .which meant there was a good chance he was still alive.
Almost eleven years passed since Bootstrap Bill was sent to the bottom of the ocean. Was it possible that he slipped from his bonds and made his way back to shore? If so, why did he never seek out his son? Elizabeth frowned thoughtfully. That was the one thing she couldn't comprehend. Will murmured, "Elizabeth?" The new bride mentally shook herself, smiling as her new husband's arms tightened around her waist.
"I'm not certain. I'm just pleased to see her smile. She's too sad, too often," Elizabeth acknowledged. Will sighed quietly, but there was no exasperation in the sound. Only sadness. They knew little of the Widow Webster's life. They knew her given name was 'Alicia,' and that she was nine and twenty. They knew she had a little girl, Thomasina, an adorable if outspoken little girl. Or perhaps the fact that she was so outspoken made her adorable? That was possible, since Tamsyn saw no point in keeping her adoration for Will secret.
Tamsyn couldn't make up her mind about Elizabeth, something the young woman understood very well. Did she like Elizabeth or did she hate her because Elizabeth was marrying Will? For her own part, Elizabeth found it hard pressed not to be pleased by Tamsyn's confusion. Not because Elizabeth was a cruel girl, but because how could she not like someone who saw Will as she did?
Besides, Tamsyn reminded Elizabeth a great deal of herself at that age. Tamsyn was a trifle more outspoken because she wasn't the daughter of the governor, and certain things weren't expected of her that were expected of the child Elizabeth. In fact, she had far more freedom, freedom that her mother won for her with the bruises on her body. Elizabeth hoped Tamsyn never learned what kind of a man her father was, but to date, Tamsyn wasn't particularly interested in her father. She had her mother, and that was all she needed.
Will said softly, "I say this not to denigrate the commodore, Elizabeth, but because it seems wrong to me. I do not believe the commodore is right for her. I know you are matchmaking for them in your mind. . .I can practically see it in your eyes. He would never hurt her the way that. . .monster did. But can you truly imagine her as the wife of the commodore? Being happy like that? She's too much like you, Elizabeth, too much of a free spirit."
Elizabeth thought briefly about debating this point, then changed her mind. It was her wedding day, and now was not the time to be debating such things, much less with her husband. She turned in his arms, smiling at him, and wound her arms around his neck. Elizabeth whispered, "We can continue this later, Mr Turner. However, I believe my new husband owes me another dance."
Will, who really had no liking for dancing, smiled anyhow and answered softly, "I believe you are quite correct, my lady." Elizabeth swallowed hard. Will didn't like dancing, yet another sacrifice he made for her. So many sacrifices made for her. . .to protect her, to free her. For her sake, he helped to commandeer a ship, he broke a man out of prison. Was there nothing he was *not* willing to do for her? If there was, neither had found such a limit as yet. Elizabeth understood that love was about give and take, but from her perspective, she had yet to do anything other than take.
The new bride glanced over her shoulder as Will led her back to the dancers. She looked at the tree where Commodore James Norrington was engaged in an earnest conversation with Alicia Webster. She, of all people, would understand how Elizabeth felt. As the years passed, Elizabeth heard her father speak poorly of Ramsey Webster, and how nothing his young wife could have done would have ever pleased him. Her father knew such men before.
Weatherby Swann, whatever his other flaws were, was a fair and honest man, a loving father. He would do anything for Elizabeth, and she knew it. She would do anything for him as well. Weeks after her engagement to Will was announced, her father took Elizabeth aside and he admitted that while he would have preferred she marry James Norrington, he was pleased that she was marrying a man who would love her and cherish her. He would have hated to see his only daughter, whom he loved deeply, trapped in a marriage with a brutal man, with no escape save death. Whether it was hers or his. Elizabeth knew he was referring to Alicia Webster, and to other women like her.
She would speak to Alicia Webster when the opportunity presented itself. She would ask the older woman how to give in a marriage, in a relationship, as well as take. With one more glance at her friend and the young widow, Elizabeth Swann Turner looked away from the past, and into the eyes of her future. She smiled at her husband. Her husband. Elizabeth stood a little straighter. She was now Mrs Will Turner, and she would not betray her husband's heart.
. . .
He loved weddings. Mind you, this was one wedding he wasn't exactly *supposed* to attend, as he wasn't exactly even supposed to be in Port Royal. However, he couldn't exactly stay away, either. Which was why he was now up in a tree, watching first the wedding, then the party afterward. At least the lass was marryin' young William, instead of that popinjay she planned to marry, in order to save the boy.
They were dancing now, young William and his Elizabeth. Jack Sparrow ('Capn' Jack Sparrow, thank ye very much) smiled as he watched them, then frowned a little. Well. This was both good and bad. It was good that Bootstrap Bill's two children found each other, though why in the name of Poseidon little Cammy was calling herself 'Alicia,' he didn't know. What wasn't so good was that little Cammy was keeping company with said popinjay, Commodore Norrington. Surely, she had more sense than her late, foolish mother?
Jack tilted his head to one side, observing his friend's daughter. For all that Will Turner could do some amazingly stupid things, he was also young. Not even one and twenty yet, the same age as his sister when Will first arrived in Port Royal. He was younger than Julia Monroe was when she chose to sell her only child into indentured servitude. He was younger than that foolish woman, but he would never be as foolish as his father's doxy.
Well, that was one thing, at least, in Cammy's favor. Jack knew his little angel, now a grown woman, had a little angel of her own, a little girl she named 'Thomasina.' And Jack knew she would never allow such a thing to happen to her child.
Jack wondered. Did she know that was the name of her paternal grandmother, a most sterling woman with the unlikely and unfortunate name of 'Thomasina Turner,' or was it happenstance? Since the Cammy he remembered would never be so cruel as to visit such an awful name on an innocent child without a good reason, he could only conclude that Cammy knew that her grandmother was 'Thomasina,' and knew what a dreadful name it was. That would also explain why she called her daughter the much more appealing 'Tamsyn.'
While Jack still didn't know, though he spoke to Cammy within the last year, was why she called herself 'Alicia.' The last time they talked, he was sneaking back into Port Royal about two months after the Black Pearl became his once more. He was in to get some supplies, or so he said, but he was actually checking up on Will and Elizabeth. Making sure Cammy's little brother didn't do something incredibly stupid.
He snuck in, just long enough to find that out, and to talk to his best friend's only daughter. Gibbs didn't know about her, of course. None of his crew did. Twouldn't do, for them to find out about her. They might want to know why he didn't use Cammy as leverage, along with the boy. And then, eventually, they would realize that Cammy actually meant something to him, which would have been a very BAD thing. For both Cammy and Jack.
Barbossa *knew* where Cammy was. He knew she lived in Port Royal, knew that she was a widow with a small daughter. He even knew that her name was 'Alicia Webster' now. Cammy would have been no good as leverage, because Barbossa knew about her. There was one other reason. Cammy didn't have the medallion. Bootstrap Bill sent his cursed medallion to his son in England, because Will was far away. . .and because he had no idea where his daughter was. Nor was he willing to take the chance that Barbossa still loved Julia.
Jack supposed he *could* have used Cammy as leverage, but the idea of using someone he once saw as a little sister made him feel dirty. Besides, it could have backfired. Barbossa could still be in love with Julia, and unwilling to use her daughter's blood to break the curse, especially when it was Will who held the cursed gold, rather than his sister. Or he may have grown to hate Julia, as Jack and Bootstrap did, especially after they learned that Julia sold her daughter into slavery.
And it was for that reason that Jack would never forgive Julia. He began hating her after she ordered Bill not to return until she sent word to him that she had little time left. And he warned her of the dangers of what she was doing. He warned her again when her fever-addled brain came up with the idea of selling Cammy to pay off her landlord. . .forcing Cammy to work off her mother's debt. Julia actually believed the stories about great masters taking an interest in pretty young maids.
And aye, they did that. . .but rarely did they marry these servants. Jack should know. His mum was one such young maid. Besides, while Cammy was a pleasant-looking lass, she was no beauty. Bill would have argued with him about that, no doubt, but he was the girl's father. On the other hand, Jack had to admit, Cammy grew prettier over the last few years. Especially when she was angry with him, as she was the last time they saw each other.
Jack had to smile at that. The sweet, curious, eager little girl he remembered grew into a quiet, sad young woman. . .right up until the time he let it slip that he was in Port Royal, knew that she was there. . .and didn't ask for her help. Then she turned into a raving little Fury. Jack was afraid she would a) make herself sick, b) wake up her daughter, or c) bring Norrington down on his head. Again.
She didn't, but it was probably a near thing. Waking little Tamsyn was another near thing, and the mumbling from the little girl's room was probably the only thing that calmed Cammy down enough to be reasonable. That didn't stop her from slapping him, however. Jack frowned and rubbed at his cheek, as if he could still feel the sting of her palm connecting with his skin. Damn the girl, she could hit *hard.* And what was it, with these women slapping him? Still, once again, he couldn't deny that he deserved it.
Will looked like his father. . .but Cammy behaved like him, in more than one way. Family was most important of all to her, and in her eyes, Jack was a member of that family. He hurt her when he didn't ask for help. She had the money, she had the resources, she had the desire. She could have helped him. . .if he just asked for it. If she knew he needed help, she would have been there for him.
That was the heart of the matter, wasn't it? Jack sighed, rubbing at his eyes, careful to avoid the kohl. Cammy went through enough already. That old git she was married to. . .Jack didn't know who killed that one, but he would give the killer a medal for it. Even if it was Barbossa, which Jack knew it wasn't. Nah, if it was Barbossa, the old bastard would have been carved up, instead of sliced up, with his guts on the outside, for all the world to see.
And, after Barbossa was finished with him, he really *would* have been a eunuch, as Jack asked Will when they first met. Probably would have left the remains out for the public's view. No. No, it wasn't Jack's old enemy, and it wasn't Jack himself, though he would have liked to claim credit for it. He didn't kill unless someone deserved to die. Like Barbossa. Or the late and unlamented Ramsey Webster. Jack mentally saluted Webster's killer, whoever that happened to be, then began to shimmy down the tree.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, as the case may be, he didn't quite look where he was going. Nor did he notice that the couple whom he was observing only moments earlier were no longer dancing, much less in the same spot. Thus, as he reached the bottom of the tree and turned around, he found a familiar face waiting there for him. Jack smiled brightly and the newcomer sighed with a shake of the head. The pirate captain tried not to laugh, for he knew it would only earn him yet *another* slap.
"Jack, Jack, Jack. It's a good thing for you I saw you first and sent James off on an errand. Or you could have been in serious trouble right about now," Camille Turner said, folding her arms over her chest. Jack briefly considered playing innocent, then dismissed that. No, she would never believe him. And like her new sister-in-law, Camille Turner would never let him hear the end of something when she was right. Aye, now there was a frightful thought. . .Elizabeth and Cammy joining forces!
"I had to come, luv. Just to make sure that brother of yours didn't do anything stupid," Jack finally said. A familiar light flared in Cammy's dark eyes. . .right before she slapped him across the face. Jack's head jerked sideways with the force of the blow, and he looked at her slowly, more than a little annoyed at how good his little Cammy was getting with these slaps, asking in a hurt voice, "Now wha' did I do to deserve that?"
"My brother isn't stupid. He may not always think first, but it doesn't make him stupid. It makes him young and impulsive. He's learning. And he had a lot to re-think, in those days. You turned his world upside down, and expected him to just accept it? He had to accept that his father, that our father, was a pirate. He had to accept that his life was made up of lies. Now, if you expect him to re-think everything in his life, without a struggle, then you're the one who's stupid!" Cammy growled at him.
That brought Jack up short. She growled at him. His Cammy, his little angel, actually *growled* at him. Well yes, it was to defend her brother. . .but she growled at him! It was a strange situation for Jack Sparrow. Rarely was he at a loss for words. So, instead of answering her, Jack changed the subject and asked, "You know, you've never told me, lass. Why did you change your name to 'Alicia,' and when did you change it? And while I'm thinkin' on it. . .why are you keepin' time with Commodore Norrington? Stuffed shirts ain't your style, luv."
Cammy sighed and rubbed at her eyes, answering, "The answers to your questions are, because I like him and he can make me laugh; it was changed for me when I was fourteen and became a woman; and my former mistress chose it because it means 'truth.' It was her way of telling the master if he put his hands somewhere they didn't belong, she would find out." Jack puzzled through the answers he was given, then put them together.
"But that still doesn't explain why you call yourself 'Alicia,' luv, when you have a perfectly good name," he finally said. His reward this time was an exasperated expression. Jack continued, careful not to engage in his sideways logic, "Honestly. How in the bloody hell do you expect people who knew you and loved you to find you when you use a name they don't know? They come expecting 'Cammy' or 'Camille,' but they find 'Alicia' instead. Where's the sense in that?"
"Are you telling me that my father *is* still alive?" Cammy asked, pouncing on Jack's words the way Jack often pounced on rum. The pirate blinked at her. Was her father still alive? Why would she think that? Cammy raised her eyebrows expectantly, adding, "Well, you did say people who knew me and loved me. Barbossa is dead. You know I use the name 'Alicia' now. That leaves only my father."
Well. That was unexpected. And Cammy wasn't finished yet, either. She continued, "Ever since you told me about the curse, I've been thinking. My father was cursed, just as Barbossa was. And even when the coin was no longer in his possession, the curse remained. Now. You told me that Mr Gibbs repeated to you, the story of how my father supposedly died. The story told to my brother aboard the Pearl. . .how Barbossa attached cannons to my father's bootstraps and then threw him overboard. But Jack, my father was still under the curse. That was ten years ago. Do you really think he would have still been down there, after all this time?"
She almost sounded like she believed it. And Jack wanted to believe it, but then reality intruded. Being mad had its share of advantages, but there was one little fact Cammy was overlooking. As gently as he could, Jack asked, "All you say is true, luv, I'll not deny that. But if your father was truly alive. . .he would have contacted you or Will by now. If he was alive, and I'll not say he is, but if he was alive. . .why hasn't he contacted you?"
"He has no idea where to look for me, Jack. I could be dead, for all he knows. And the same with Will. But mark my words. My father would have realized that by sending the medallion to Will, he inadvertently put my brother's life in danger. . .and he would have found a way to get free, to protect his child in any way he could," Cammy answered. Bloody hell. The lass really did think this through. There was more, though, for Cammy added quietly, "I'd do no less for Tamsyn."
Well now, that did put a different spin on things. Jack was looking at this through the eyes of a pirate, and rightfully so, because that was exactly what he was. But Cammy was a woman, and more than that, she was a mother. Bootstrap once told him that his whole view of the world would change when Jack had children. Jack answered that was why he had no intention of ever fathering any children. He was quite happy all by his onesy, thank you!
Cammy wasn't finished, either. Damn the lass, she was looking at this from all the angles. Just the way he, Barbossa, and Bill taught her. It was definitely a moment when Jack wished she was as rash as her younger brother. But Cammy was as cool-headed as Will was rash. Of course she would be, as she was nine years older than he was, but even so. Jack wished she wasn't so cool-headed.
It was hard to convince someone that they were wrong when they already thought of possible answers to the objections the convincer might raise. Bloody hell. He would leave now. Yes, that was what he would do. He would leave now, before yet another Turner offspring pulled him into something that didn't concern him. He said, "Well, lass, you seem to have all the answers. . .I should be going now, before your friend Norrington decides to clap me into irons once more."
Now she looked. . .disappointed. Oh, Jack hated that expression! She looked just like Bootstrap when she looked at him like that. That quiet, 'I expected better of you, Jack' look his old friend always wore when he thought Jack was doing something incredibly stupid. That brought the pirate up short. Now that he thought about it, he did his share of incredibly stupid things. Maybe the lass was right. . .maybe he shouldn't call Will 'stupid' for the things he did.
"If you wish, of course, I'll not stop you from leaving. But I thought you would be interested in finding out the truth. My father was your friend, Jack. And if he's still alive, wouldn't it be wonderful for the two of you to sail together again? Just like in the old days?" Cammy asked, her dark eyes shining. Worse. . .she was giving him the Look. The one that allowed her mother to wrap her father around her little finger. It worked even better for the daughter than it did for the mother. . .the daughter wasn't as interested in manipulating others as the mother was. That made it more dangerous.
Even so, it wouldn't work on Jack Sparrow, not on Captain Jack Sparrow! He was the terror of the Spanish Main, the scourge of the East India Company. . .and he would not be swayed by a chit of a girl (never mind that she was almost thirty years old) whose mother was a mistress of manipulation. The very idea that he could be induced into such daftness by the wiles of a woman! Feeling much better, Jack opened his mouth, and was dismayed to hear, "All right, lass, no need to give me the Look. Where do you want to start in finding Father dearest?"
He did not just say that. Jack clamped his jaws shut, but the words echoed mockingly in his ears. He wasn't just daft, he was totally mad! Where would he begin looking for Bootstrap Bill Turner? The lass had a point, if he was cursed as well, he would have spent the last ten years underwater, unable to die. And Bootstrap would have found a way to free himself from his bonds. He was thirty-eight at the time of his presumed death, and unlikely to be so foolish as his twenty year old son. He glowered at his friend's daughter, muttering, "Bloody hell! If you're right. . ."
He didn't finish the sentence. It was too much. He was right the first time, she was just like Elizabeth. . .if she was right about this, there would be no living with her after that. Cammy smiled then. Not the gloating smile her mother wore when she got her way, but a relieved smile, one which told Jack she would have conducted her own investigation, by her onesies. . .but was very glad she didn't have to.
"Well, the first thing we need to do, is get you out of Port Royal before James notices my absence, and before anyone notices your presence. Jack, you knew my father better than anyone. If anyone would know where he would go, once he resurfaced. . .literally. . .it would be you. Besides, you're a master of disguise. . .you can go anywhere, be anyone, and get all the information you need!" Cammy explained with enthusiasm.
Damn her, her passion was becoming contagious. During the last several months, repairs continued on the Pearl, and even the old joys of plundering and pillaging were growing boring. Jack needed a new venture, a new challenge, to hold his attention. None of his crew were as rash as Will, and thus, they were not as in need of guidance. Maybe this was just what he needed. The pirate captain puffed up as passion stirred within his soul once more.
He took off his hat, sweeping a deep bow to his little angel, and said, "Cap'n Jack Sparrow, luv, at your service. But a few rules need to be explained, savvy?" Cammy nodded expectantly, and Jack continued, "Number one, I do the work by me onesies. I can go places and talk to people you cannot. Rule number two. . .any information you get, is passed to me. You do not put yourself at risk for any reason."
"My first priority is my daughter, Jack," came the response. Jack tilted his head, considering that for a moment, then nodded. Cammy continued, "I can live with your rules. I have a few of my own. First, you investigate. . .but I wanted to be informed of progress. When you were almost hung, I saw a parrot. It seemed odd to me, because it was flying freely. I later learned from Elizabeth that the parrot belonged to a member of your crew. I don't expect you to endanger your life, but send a message to me by way of that parrot."
"Carrier parrot. Hmm. That's an interesting idea. That's a very interesting idea," Jack murmured. He was already laying out plans, charting out a course. As he told Will, it was often a case of waiting for the opportune moment. Cap'n Jack Sparrow might have been daft, but he most assuredly was not stupid. He planned, looked at all eventualities and consequences, and then planned more. Jack asked, "Anything else?"
"Of course. I spent the first five years of my life around pirates, Jack, I learned how to negotiate and bargain," came the prompt reply. Jack smiled, flashing his gold teeth at her. Ahh, she made him so proud! They taught her well, between the three of them. Cammy continued, "When you do feel comfortable with coming to Port Royal under the commodore's nose, let me know, and we'll set up a meeting place not far from where I live. We can meet, and I can ask someone to watch over Tamsyn while you tell me whatever you've discovered."
"Cammy, me dear lass, do not concern yourself. For now, luv, I should be going, before the aforementioned commodore returns to discover his new lady love in conversation with a known pirate. Tell me something, lass. . .do you know if he's a eunuch?" Jack asked, dropping his voice to a conversational tone. Cammy's dark eyes narrowed. That was the only warning he got before she slapped him. Again.
"Before you ask, Jack, yes, you *did* deserve that. Commodore Norrington happens to be my friend, a good friend. He saved my life and the life of my daughter. He spoke up for me when his superior officer considered me a suspect in my husband's murder. And maybe he's somewhat stiff, but he's a good man, an honorable man, and I will not allow you to denigrate him like that!" Cammy snapped. Right. And now was a good time to leave, before she broke his jaw!
. . .
While Jack Sparrow was at the Swann-Turner wedding incognito, his first mate, AnaMaria, was retrieving supplies. That actually had two purposes. First, and most obviously, she gathered the supplies they would need for their next several months at see. And secondly, it gave her an opportunity to listen to the gossip around the marketplace. AnaMaria rarely wore her breeches when she was gathering supplies. . .preferring to blend in with locals.
People who saw her assumed she was buying things for her master and mistress, and AnaMaria did nothing to dissuade them from that opinion. She kept her eyes lowered, not because she was ashamed or because she felt inferior to these people, but to hide her contempt for them. Most of them, for all their high and mighty airs, weren't in the least bit superior to her. AnaMaria was a pirate, to be sure, but she was honest about it. By the same token, she listened freely to conversations around the market, because her 'status' made her invisible.
And the conversation she was currently hearing was *very* interesting indeed. AnaMaria listened intently as a woman who just arrived from England went on and on about a horrid experience in her terrible journey to the Spanish Main. AnaMaria rolled her eyes under her hat. Twit. However, though the woman was clearly a twit, what she had to say *was* interesting. It seemed that one of the remaining pirate ships, the Diablo, attacked the ship on which the twit was traveling.
AnaMaria wondered if the woman realized that 'Diablo' was Spanish for 'devil,' or if she even cared. The female pirate heard of the Diablo, of course. Its captain was a second rate version of Barbossa. For reasons she couldn't fully comprehend, there were actually people who thought highly of the late pirate and wanted to be like him. Didn't seem to understand that it was the pirates like Barbossa who made life difficult for the rest of them.
So, the 'Diablo' attacked the ship traveling from England. Nothing unusual. However, what *was* unusual was the way this particular story ended. Another ship intervened. And from the way the twit described it, it almost sounded like another pirate ship. However, not many pirate ships carried the innocuous sounding name of 'Camille.' And most pirate ships wouldn't come to the aid of a Royal Navy ship under attack by another pirate ship.
And yet, that was exactly what happened. Ana committed the details to her memory. The woman saw the other ship from her stateroom, where she was confined for the duration of the battle. Like the 'Black Pearl,' this new ship, this 'Camille' had as its figurehead the head and torso of a woman. But the figurehead of the 'Camille' had the woman's hands cupped in front of her, as if cupping the face of a lover.
She flew no flag. And the only person she saw clearly was the young man who fought outside her window, against a pirate who was trying to gain access to her stateroom in this way. He was no more than thirty years old, with shoulder-length black hair and dark eyes. And, she added, fluttering her fan suggestively, he was quite handsome. After viewing that young man, she could understand the reason for the romance of piracy!
Which confirmed AnaMaria's original opinion. The woman was an idiot. However, right now, she was also a valuable source of information. According to the newcomer, the 'Diablo' was last seen sinking. . .and the 'Camille' took no damage at all. Interesting. Most of the Navy ships were incapable of fighting pirate ships. The rules of engagement, the ones young Will Turner spoke of.
Yes, it sounded like this 'Camille' was another pirate ship. But questions remained. First, who was captaining her? The more Ana listened to the woman's story, the more the captain of the rescuing ship sounded like Jack. He sounded daft. . .as Gibbs would say, daft like Jack. His plans usually succeeded because they were daft. And Neptune knew that Jack wasn't exactly your typical pirate. After all, what sane pirate would have dove into the ocean after Elizabeth Swann? No one but Jack, of course. Although that idea was a little on the frightful side to AnaMaria. Another Jack out there? It was all the lovely pirate could do to keep from shuddering at the very idea.
Ana just hoped this captain didn't steal the 'Camille' away from her rightful owner. She quietly paid for her purchases. . .no sense in attracting unwanted attention, after all. That was Jack's specialty, not hers. Ana had enough things going against her, simply by being a dark- skinned female pirate. She wasn't about to make her own life more difficult by bringing unwanted attention to herself.
As she headed back to the 'Pearl,' Ana wondered if Jack was finished at the Swann-Turner wedding yet. She hoped so. She wanted to tell him about the 'Camille,' and see what he thought. Ana was unwilling to give up on her dream of once more having her own ship. Though Jack was a good captain, the 'Pearl' wasn't her ship. And Ana craved freedom, just as Jack did. To be the mistress of her own destiny.
On the other hand. . .much as she hated to admit it, she almost enjoyed the camaraderie she felt on the 'Pearl.' Were she the captain, she would have to find a crew whom she trusted, and that wasn't such an easy thing to do. She had only to look at her daft captain to know that. He was betrayed by his crew once. Ana sighed in spite of herself as she made her way back to the meeting point, as ever careful to keep an eye around her.
Never, in her wildest dreams, did AnaMaria imagine that the daft captain of the 'Camille' might hold the key to making her fondest wish come true. Sometimes, the daft or the mad are the most capable of making the impossible happen.
Secondly, while I've tried to keep this historically accurate, I've also tried to stay true to the film. I think I've managed to avoid the glaring errors (like referring to people between the ages of thirteen and nineteen as 'teenagers.' That term wasn't coined until after 1945), but my lingo dictionary is still packed, so I may have missed a few.
Reviews:
Magoo: Thank you! I'm glad you're enjoying this!
Sailor Elf: Actually, I've noticed your liking for that word, but I can also think of a lot of adjectives that would be far worse than 'interesting.' Hope you continue to enjoy this.
Aria-hannah: Thought I might find you here eventually! Glad you like my take on Jack, because he's probably the most difficult character for me to write.
Savvy-Rum-Drinker: Thank you! I'm glad to hear that, and I hope it continues to hold your attention. I shall certainly do my best to keep this up and get more chapters written.
Kitrazzle Fayn: Here you are, me dearie, the next chapter! It took me a bit longer than I anticipated because it wasn't gelling the way I originally planned. Once I stopped arguing with the characters, it worked much better.
On with the story!
Part One
It was a lovely wedding, on a lovely day. Alicia Webster quietly fanned herself as she looked over the guests. It seemed like most of Port Royal turned out for the wedding of the governor's daughter to the local blacksmith. If only to laugh at the sheer absurdity. The very idea of a lady like Elizabeth Swann marrying Will Turner, a blacksmith and the son of a known pirate! And yet, that 'ridiculous idea of a wedding,' as Alicia heard it called, was taking place.
Perhaps Governor Swann thought his daughter was marrying below her. And yet, it seemed to many that he was fond of the young blacksmith. Alicia smiled, thinking of Elizabeth Swann's new husband. She met him almost nine years earlier, when Lieutenant James Norrington brought him to Port Royal. He was twelve at the time, and she was one-and-twenty, newly married. Alicia's smile died as she thought of her late and unlamented husband.
He died not long after their wedding, murdered under mysterious circumstances. The man, if he could indeed be called a man, was split open from gullet to gut. His body was found outside a tavern. As his wife, Alicia was the first and most obvious suspect. She hated him, but she was unconscious when he left to go to the tavern for the last time. The result of yet another beating. Lieutenant Norrington vouched for her, for it was he who found her, with the aid of a frantic young boy. And it was the young lieutenant who carried her to a doctor.
She could have hired an assassin, yes. However, Alicia had not her own money at the time, according to her husband's barrister. It was decided that Ramsey Webster was likely killed by a pirate. What was one more misdeed to add to their list of mischief making? Although the murder of Ramsey Webster would have been considered a public service, by many.
"A magnificent day for a wedding, is it not?" a familiar voice inquired at her elbow. Alicia's smile returned as she looked at her new companion. Commodore James Norrington smiled back, though there was still some sadness in his eyes. Poor man. He did love Elizabeth. James continued, "I was hoping you would be here today, Mrs Webster. I feel caught between two very strong emotions, and it is not a pleasant sensation in the least."
Alicia slipped her arm through his, replying softly, "How many times must I tell you to call me 'Alicia,' my dear Commodore?" Her teasing query made him smile in turn. His soldiers often made the mistake of thinking him without a sense of humor, but over the last few years, Alicia often saw the true James Norrington make an appearance on more than one occasion.
"To quote young Mr Turner, at least once more, as always, my lady," came the reply. Alicia laughed softly. If she was her daughter's age, she would have clapped her hands in delight. James continued, "Where is Miss Tamsyn? I know she is quite taken with Mr Turner." Alicia's laughter wasn't quite as subdued this time, though still not loud enough to attract attention. Her six months as the wife of Ramsey Webster taught her the need for invisibility. Besides, while her daughter's infatuation with the young blacksmith was amusing, it was also worrisome to Alicia.
"Tamsyn is writing a letter, detailing why Will should have married her," Alicia replied after a moment, "and told me last night that the two of you should join forces. I waited until she went to bed before laughing. I did not want her to misunderstand. Tamsyn is alarmingly adult for an eight year old, but she is still just a little girl. And truthfully, James, I sometimes find it hard to believe that so much time has passed."
"She is growing into quite a young lady. You should be proud of her," James remarked and Alicia's smile turned sad. Yes, she was very proud of her daughter, so grateful for such a wonderful gift from such a terrible time in her life. James said after a moment, "I have ever been grateful to Mr Turner for being so persistent when he found you and ran for me. I don't believe I would have ever forgiven myself if you or Tamsyn died because of my stupidity."
"James, it is hardly your fault! You saved both of our lives that night, and never think that I've forgotten that!" Alicia retorted, glaring at him. James ducked his head and Alicia sighed, then went on in a more gentle voice, "Listen to me. You were trapped by the law, James, the same law that gave Mr Webster ownership over me. There was nothing you could have done."
"Sometimes, an act of piracy is the right thing," James said, almost under his breath. Alicia blinked in surprise. James added with a rueful smile, "Something Governor Swann said to me, regarding Jack Sparrow." Alicia laughed and James continued, "You surprise me, Mrs Webster. You seem fond of that pirate." Alicia arched her eyebrows, trying very hard to disguise her annoyance. She was failing miserably, and heard the ice in her own voice.
"Commodore Norrington, I have known worse beings than pirates. It might surprise you, but even Barbossa was once a different man," she replied. The commodore looked shocked. Alicia turned away, suddenly remembering herself and her place. She rarely thought about her early life, simply because she could not forgive her mother. She was sure Julia believed she was doing the right thing. . .but one form of slavery was traded for another.
"Forgive me, I did not mean to offend you. Truly, Alicia, I look on you as a friend. It is only that you startled me. You knew Barbossa once?" James asked. Alicia nodded, staring sightlessly into the crowd. She knew Hector Barbossa. She knew Jack Sparrow. She was bounced on their respective knees, when she wasn't much younger than Tamsyn. There were times when she actually wished either of those men raised her. The good Christians of Port Royal, no doubt, would have been shocked and appalled.
But those same good Christians looked down their noses at her, and helped to bind her in marriage to a man who was incapable of compassion or gentleness, much less love or tenderness. Alicia replied softly, "I knew him before he turned into the monster he became. He wasn't always like that, James. He wasn't always a traitor and a mutineer. Wasn't always so evil that hell itself spat him back out. I remember feeling safe with him. I. . ."
She was on the point of saying more, when the newly married couple appeared in her line of sight. Alicia smiled at both Will and Elizabeth, dropping the subject immediately. Though nearly a year passed since the young girl's ordeal at the hands of Barbossa, Alicia didn't fool herself into thinking that Elizabeth was over it. Such things, such violations, took far more time to heal than just a year. She knew that from painful personal experience.
"Will! Elizabeth! I am so happy for you both!" Alicia said, smiling broadly at the young couple. She took Elizabeth's hands first and kissed the young girl on each cheek, then repeated the gesture with Will. He looked stunned, and she looked radiant. Was she ever that young and innocent? If she was, it seemed like an eternity ago. Elizabeth beamed, the joy dimming ever so slightly when she looked at James. Alicia knew it was never the girl's intention to break James' heart, and that was one reason she forgave young Elizabeth so quickly.
The other reason was far more selfish. Though she was fond of James, Alicia loved Will. Just as Elizabeth did, and Alicia understood the girl did what she believed what had to be done, to save Will. Something Alicia could understand very well. Though nearly twenty-five years passed since her last meeting with her father, his image was burned into her mind. The moment she heard Will Turner's name, almost nine years earlier, she knew whom he was.
And every day since then, as he grew up, he served as a reminder. He looked just like his father. Just like *their* father. Behaved just like the man who helped to create them both. And not for the first time, the young woman wished her father sired two sons, rather than a son and a daughter. Alicia Webster made the marriage her mother wanted. But it cost her dearly, and it taught her that money couldn't replace family. Alicia's family only consisted of her eight year old daughter, and her twenty year old brother. . . and of course, Will didn't know that.
As for family. . .the last thing she learned from her father before he left that last time, driven away by her mother, was that family meant everything. It was because of family that Bootstrap Bill left his doxy and their child. And it was because of family that he vowed to return. Even making a promise that nearly tore out his heart. It was hardly his fault that Julia Monroe refused to keep her promise. It wasn't his fault that rather than contacting him, as *she* promised, Julia chose to sell her daughter to a wealthy couple.
Yes, Alicia Webster knew exactly whom Will Turner was. She knew that it was his blood that was necessary to set the Black Pearl free. Jack told her the truth before he left Port Royal the last time. He told her everything. He told her how her father died. He told her about her brother's actions in the name of love. He even told her why her blood wouldn't break the curse of the Black Pearl. It was very simple. She didn't have the cursed medallion.
There was another reason, as Jack well knew, for he told his crew that Will was Bootstrap Bill's only child. Alicia. . .or Camille, as she was known then. . .was the child of Bootstrap Bill and Julia. Everyone knew that. But Bootstrap wasn't the only man who loved Julia. So did Barbossa. Even as depraved as he became, he could never bring himself to harm the daughter of his precious Julia. Even if she did carry the same blood as the man who ultimately condemned him to a living hell.
Yet, with those questions answered, others remained. For one. . .why did Jack not come to her for aid when he was captured in Port Royal? For another, how could they be sure that her father was dead? Yes, she knew that he was dropped into the ocean with cannon balls attached to his bootstraps. And she knew that he sent his cursed coin to England and Will. But. . .he was still cursed. Just like the others.
Ten years passed since that day. . .who was to say that her father didn't find some way out of his un-natural bonds? He was immortal. . .he could breathe under water. Alicia wasn't convinced that her father truly was dead. Even if the coin passed to her younger brother, her father still took part in the raid on that accursed island. He would be marked by the same curse as the others. . .Barbossa had to know that.
There was no way of knowing. Perhaps he did, perhaps he didn't. And perhaps she would never truly know what happened to her father. To *their* father. She was unaware of the time she stared silently at her brother under the brim of her hat, until a soft, almost anxious voice asked, "Mistress Webster. . .are you ill?" Alicia shook herself. She looked into her brother's dark eyes, and struggled against gasping. He really did look alarmingly like her father.
She would have thought by now, the resemblance wouldn't take her breath away. His resemblance to William Turner became noticeable about four or five years earlier. And yet, each time she looked at her younger brother, Alicia was magically transported into the past. Sometimes, no matter how hard she tried to see her brother, it was always their father staring back at her. Every time she looked into Will's brown eyes, she felt like she was five years old, and staring into her father's eyes, the last time she saw him. She understood his agony now. Alicia couldn't imagine being forcibly separated from Tamsyn, and hoped she never would. She understood a lot more now.
"I am well. Did I thank you for the sword you made Diego?" Alicia answered, grabbing onto the first topic of conversation she could legitimately claim as an excuse to talk with her brother a little while longer. She felt vaguely guilty about asking James to stand here and listen to this, but so rare was the opportunity that she could speak to her brother for any length of time. Even if he didn't know they were brother and sister.
And there was no need for James Norrington to know everything about Diego. It was known that he was her husband's by-blow, and that he sometimes visited her and Tamsyn while he was in port. But there were other things about Diego no one, not James, not even Will, needed to know. Her brother smiled, his dark eyes lighting up as they always did when someone complimented him on his work, and he replied, "At least ten times, Mistress Webster."
Curiously, Elizabeth was in no hurry to drag her husband away, so Alicia took the unexpected gift that was offered. So, she continued, "Good. Diego has been so kind to Tamsyn and myself, I wanted to do something special for his most recent birthday. I thought immediately of you. He is something of a collector," (well, that was true enough), "and he was quite delighted with it."
"I must admit, I thought almost everyone in Port Royal was convinced that Mr Brown was the blacksmith who crafted those swords. Then I learn that not only did Commodore Norrington know the truth, but you have known all along. How?" Will asked. He looked so innocent, so honestly amazed that the subterfuge no longer worked. Alicia looked up at James, whose smile didn't seem in the least bit forced. Strange. She would have thought he was holding onto his composure with both hands.
Since he seemed so relaxed, Alicia asked with a grin for her long- time friend, "Do you wish to tell him the truth, James, or shall I?" James made a sweeping gesture, almost a mock-bow. Hmm. He was full of surprises today! Alicia turned her attention back to her brother, explaining, "Most of us noticed that Mister Brown was often inebriated. I would not say it is impossible, however, I would say it is *most* difficult to turn out such excellent work while totally and complete drunk."
On the other hand, Mister Brown wasn't Jack Sparrow, who seemed to think best when he was drunk. Assuming, of course, he wasn't pretending to be drunk, the way he pretended to be crazy. Something, Alicia had no doubt, her brother learned while the pair sailed off to rescue Elizabeth. Realizing that she monopolized her brother's time, the widow told her new sister-in-law, "My apologies, dear Elizabeth. I should let you dance with your husband. Thank you so much for inviting me to your wedding."
"I am so glad you came! You know, my father has never been able to make up his mind whether he admires you for your graciousness with Diego, or appalled that you openly acknowledge him as your family," Elizabeth replied. Alicia was grateful that Elizabeth kept her voice low. Such things were not acknowledged in public. Everyone knew such things happened, such things existed. . .but it wasn't spoken of in polite company. The same polite company that allowed such things to happen.
More pleasantries were exchanged, then Will and Elizabeth made their way. There were other guests that required their attention. With a soft sigh of resignation, Alicia watched her brother go. There would be other times. Other times, once she could figure out a way to ask Will about their father without giving anything away. She wasn't ready to tell him the truth. She didn't think he was ready to hear it, either. Not when he was still reeling from the revelation that their father was a pirate.
James said into the silence that followed, "Forgive me for asking, but your regard for. . . your husband's son. Is that a result of your own experiences?" Alicia frowned, and James added, "I know about your mother, Alicia. I presume that is how you knew Mr Sparrow and Mr Barbossa." Alicia felt her jaw drop open in surprise, and the commodore smiled almost boyishly, adding, "Oh, come! I investigated your husband's appointment with serendipity, you know!"
Alicia shook her head in disbelief. When she could finally manage to say something, it was the totally inane, "Well. This is most unexpected!" *Very intelligent,* she told herself scathingly. After a moment, she continued, "So, you know about my past. Well, then. I would have to say. . .yes. Yes, growing up as I did, first with my mother, then with my master and mistress, that is where my. . .that is why I behave as I do toward Diego."
"I see," came the thoughtful reply, "when I meant to hang Jack Sparrow eight months ago, I investigated his whereabouts when your late husband was killed. I would have liked to give him a medal, if he turned out to be a guilty party." Now Alicia was stunned. Did James Norrington just say that? The commodore added, "However, I am convinced it was not Sparrow. Though he is, without a doubt, the worst pirate I've ever heard of. . .he is not that vicious."
Alicia couldn't resist. She waggled one finger at him, saying, "First, he might be the worst pirate you've ever heard of him. But you *have* heard of him." James rolled his eyes, and Alicia barely bit back a laugh. She knew Jack would say that, if James told him he was the worst pirate he ever heard of. And she knew James would say such a thing. The widow continued, "And second. . .Jack Sparrow can be vicious. Though he is a pirate, Jack is a gentle person at heart. And it's the gentle who are the most dangerous when they are pushed too far. Would Jack have killed my husband, if he got word that Webster almost killed me? Of a certainty. Would he have killed him in such a manner? That, I do not know."
The pair sat silently on the bench, neither really seeing the crowd. After a moment, James said, "Well. Enough of such a gloomy topic on such a magnificent day. Mistress Webster, would you care to dance?" Alicia accepted the escape route she was given, and smiled at the commodore. James took her hand and drew her to her feet. They were, after all, at a wedding!
. . .
Elizabeth Swann Turner watched James Norrington and Alicia Webster with interest. She remained friends with the commodore over the months since she chose Will. Or perhaps, it would be better to say that they really became friends this time. He still loved her. . .Elizabeth knew that. A man like James Norrington didn't give his heart lightly. And she regretted hurting him. But her heart belonged to Will Turner. That was the case ever since they were children.
Was she the slightest bit jealous that the commodore's attention was turning to Alicia Webster? No, Elizabeth decided after a moment. The widow was always kind to her, without treating Elizabeth like a child. And she wasn't really old. If Elizabeth was correct, she thought she remembered her father saying that Mrs Webster was one and twenty when they arrived at Port Royal. . .which meant that the widow was approaching thirty. Not old at all. And heaven knew she deserved some happiness, after what that horrid man did to her.
That, Elizabeth knew about from Will. Mr Webster's murder took place only weeks after their arrival at Port Royal. Will was running errands for Mr Brown, as part of his new apprenticeship. To this day, Elizabeth still couldn't remember why Will even went to Mr Webster's home, but he did, and found Mrs Webster unconscious in the foyer. She was curled up in a ball, and it wasn't until much later that Elizabeth learned the young widow was trying to protect her unborn child before she lost consciousness.
Will ran from the house, screaming for help. The first person he encountered was Lt James Norrington. At first disinclined to listen to the boy's frantic gasps that someone was hurt, only Will's breathy explanation that he thought Mrs Webster was with child broke through. At that point, it became a race between the boy and the man to reach the house first. Later, Will explained that his mother was a midwife who sometimes cared for pregnant women brutalized by their husbands. Such a thing was too horrible for the child Elizabeth to comprehend.
"What do you think has them so intrigued?" Will asked softly at her side. Elizabeth didn't answer at first. No, she wanted to savor the feel of Will's breath against her skin, his arms around her waist, and the knowledge that she was now Elizabeth Turner. When she told Barbossa, all those months ago, that she was Elizabeth Turner, was she indulging in her quiet and private fantasy of loving the young blacksmith? Perhaps. And perhaps she was trying to save the life of her childhood friend.
For whatever reason, she made that choice. . .and realized the days that followed that she loved Will. He became what he hated most, in order to save her. He was willing to sacrifice his life, his freedom, perhaps even his very soul, to protect her. When the Interceptor blew up, presumably killing the reluctant pirate, Elizabeth wanted to die with him. He loved her, as she learned at Jack's hanging. . .and she loved him.
Now, she was his wife, and Elizabeth had no doubts that more adventures would find them. She heard about the curse from Jack and from Barbossa, and as the days turned into weeks, then into months, Elizabeth stopped and thought about what it meant. While the coin was no longer in the possession of Bootstrap Bill Turner, Will's father, he was cursed, just as the others were. Which meant. . .which meant there was a good chance he was still alive.
Almost eleven years passed since Bootstrap Bill was sent to the bottom of the ocean. Was it possible that he slipped from his bonds and made his way back to shore? If so, why did he never seek out his son? Elizabeth frowned thoughtfully. That was the one thing she couldn't comprehend. Will murmured, "Elizabeth?" The new bride mentally shook herself, smiling as her new husband's arms tightened around her waist.
"I'm not certain. I'm just pleased to see her smile. She's too sad, too often," Elizabeth acknowledged. Will sighed quietly, but there was no exasperation in the sound. Only sadness. They knew little of the Widow Webster's life. They knew her given name was 'Alicia,' and that she was nine and twenty. They knew she had a little girl, Thomasina, an adorable if outspoken little girl. Or perhaps the fact that she was so outspoken made her adorable? That was possible, since Tamsyn saw no point in keeping her adoration for Will secret.
Tamsyn couldn't make up her mind about Elizabeth, something the young woman understood very well. Did she like Elizabeth or did she hate her because Elizabeth was marrying Will? For her own part, Elizabeth found it hard pressed not to be pleased by Tamsyn's confusion. Not because Elizabeth was a cruel girl, but because how could she not like someone who saw Will as she did?
Besides, Tamsyn reminded Elizabeth a great deal of herself at that age. Tamsyn was a trifle more outspoken because she wasn't the daughter of the governor, and certain things weren't expected of her that were expected of the child Elizabeth. In fact, she had far more freedom, freedom that her mother won for her with the bruises on her body. Elizabeth hoped Tamsyn never learned what kind of a man her father was, but to date, Tamsyn wasn't particularly interested in her father. She had her mother, and that was all she needed.
Will said softly, "I say this not to denigrate the commodore, Elizabeth, but because it seems wrong to me. I do not believe the commodore is right for her. I know you are matchmaking for them in your mind. . .I can practically see it in your eyes. He would never hurt her the way that. . .monster did. But can you truly imagine her as the wife of the commodore? Being happy like that? She's too much like you, Elizabeth, too much of a free spirit."
Elizabeth thought briefly about debating this point, then changed her mind. It was her wedding day, and now was not the time to be debating such things, much less with her husband. She turned in his arms, smiling at him, and wound her arms around his neck. Elizabeth whispered, "We can continue this later, Mr Turner. However, I believe my new husband owes me another dance."
Will, who really had no liking for dancing, smiled anyhow and answered softly, "I believe you are quite correct, my lady." Elizabeth swallowed hard. Will didn't like dancing, yet another sacrifice he made for her. So many sacrifices made for her. . .to protect her, to free her. For her sake, he helped to commandeer a ship, he broke a man out of prison. Was there nothing he was *not* willing to do for her? If there was, neither had found such a limit as yet. Elizabeth understood that love was about give and take, but from her perspective, she had yet to do anything other than take.
The new bride glanced over her shoulder as Will led her back to the dancers. She looked at the tree where Commodore James Norrington was engaged in an earnest conversation with Alicia Webster. She, of all people, would understand how Elizabeth felt. As the years passed, Elizabeth heard her father speak poorly of Ramsey Webster, and how nothing his young wife could have done would have ever pleased him. Her father knew such men before.
Weatherby Swann, whatever his other flaws were, was a fair and honest man, a loving father. He would do anything for Elizabeth, and she knew it. She would do anything for him as well. Weeks after her engagement to Will was announced, her father took Elizabeth aside and he admitted that while he would have preferred she marry James Norrington, he was pleased that she was marrying a man who would love her and cherish her. He would have hated to see his only daughter, whom he loved deeply, trapped in a marriage with a brutal man, with no escape save death. Whether it was hers or his. Elizabeth knew he was referring to Alicia Webster, and to other women like her.
She would speak to Alicia Webster when the opportunity presented itself. She would ask the older woman how to give in a marriage, in a relationship, as well as take. With one more glance at her friend and the young widow, Elizabeth Swann Turner looked away from the past, and into the eyes of her future. She smiled at her husband. Her husband. Elizabeth stood a little straighter. She was now Mrs Will Turner, and she would not betray her husband's heart.
. . .
He loved weddings. Mind you, this was one wedding he wasn't exactly *supposed* to attend, as he wasn't exactly even supposed to be in Port Royal. However, he couldn't exactly stay away, either. Which was why he was now up in a tree, watching first the wedding, then the party afterward. At least the lass was marryin' young William, instead of that popinjay she planned to marry, in order to save the boy.
They were dancing now, young William and his Elizabeth. Jack Sparrow ('Capn' Jack Sparrow, thank ye very much) smiled as he watched them, then frowned a little. Well. This was both good and bad. It was good that Bootstrap Bill's two children found each other, though why in the name of Poseidon little Cammy was calling herself 'Alicia,' he didn't know. What wasn't so good was that little Cammy was keeping company with said popinjay, Commodore Norrington. Surely, she had more sense than her late, foolish mother?
Jack tilted his head to one side, observing his friend's daughter. For all that Will Turner could do some amazingly stupid things, he was also young. Not even one and twenty yet, the same age as his sister when Will first arrived in Port Royal. He was younger than Julia Monroe was when she chose to sell her only child into indentured servitude. He was younger than that foolish woman, but he would never be as foolish as his father's doxy.
Well, that was one thing, at least, in Cammy's favor. Jack knew his little angel, now a grown woman, had a little angel of her own, a little girl she named 'Thomasina.' And Jack knew she would never allow such a thing to happen to her child.
Jack wondered. Did she know that was the name of her paternal grandmother, a most sterling woman with the unlikely and unfortunate name of 'Thomasina Turner,' or was it happenstance? Since the Cammy he remembered would never be so cruel as to visit such an awful name on an innocent child without a good reason, he could only conclude that Cammy knew that her grandmother was 'Thomasina,' and knew what a dreadful name it was. That would also explain why she called her daughter the much more appealing 'Tamsyn.'
While Jack still didn't know, though he spoke to Cammy within the last year, was why she called herself 'Alicia.' The last time they talked, he was sneaking back into Port Royal about two months after the Black Pearl became his once more. He was in to get some supplies, or so he said, but he was actually checking up on Will and Elizabeth. Making sure Cammy's little brother didn't do something incredibly stupid.
He snuck in, just long enough to find that out, and to talk to his best friend's only daughter. Gibbs didn't know about her, of course. None of his crew did. Twouldn't do, for them to find out about her. They might want to know why he didn't use Cammy as leverage, along with the boy. And then, eventually, they would realize that Cammy actually meant something to him, which would have been a very BAD thing. For both Cammy and Jack.
Barbossa *knew* where Cammy was. He knew she lived in Port Royal, knew that she was a widow with a small daughter. He even knew that her name was 'Alicia Webster' now. Cammy would have been no good as leverage, because Barbossa knew about her. There was one other reason. Cammy didn't have the medallion. Bootstrap Bill sent his cursed medallion to his son in England, because Will was far away. . .and because he had no idea where his daughter was. Nor was he willing to take the chance that Barbossa still loved Julia.
Jack supposed he *could* have used Cammy as leverage, but the idea of using someone he once saw as a little sister made him feel dirty. Besides, it could have backfired. Barbossa could still be in love with Julia, and unwilling to use her daughter's blood to break the curse, especially when it was Will who held the cursed gold, rather than his sister. Or he may have grown to hate Julia, as Jack and Bootstrap did, especially after they learned that Julia sold her daughter into slavery.
And it was for that reason that Jack would never forgive Julia. He began hating her after she ordered Bill not to return until she sent word to him that she had little time left. And he warned her of the dangers of what she was doing. He warned her again when her fever-addled brain came up with the idea of selling Cammy to pay off her landlord. . .forcing Cammy to work off her mother's debt. Julia actually believed the stories about great masters taking an interest in pretty young maids.
And aye, they did that. . .but rarely did they marry these servants. Jack should know. His mum was one such young maid. Besides, while Cammy was a pleasant-looking lass, she was no beauty. Bill would have argued with him about that, no doubt, but he was the girl's father. On the other hand, Jack had to admit, Cammy grew prettier over the last few years. Especially when she was angry with him, as she was the last time they saw each other.
Jack had to smile at that. The sweet, curious, eager little girl he remembered grew into a quiet, sad young woman. . .right up until the time he let it slip that he was in Port Royal, knew that she was there. . .and didn't ask for her help. Then she turned into a raving little Fury. Jack was afraid she would a) make herself sick, b) wake up her daughter, or c) bring Norrington down on his head. Again.
She didn't, but it was probably a near thing. Waking little Tamsyn was another near thing, and the mumbling from the little girl's room was probably the only thing that calmed Cammy down enough to be reasonable. That didn't stop her from slapping him, however. Jack frowned and rubbed at his cheek, as if he could still feel the sting of her palm connecting with his skin. Damn the girl, she could hit *hard.* And what was it, with these women slapping him? Still, once again, he couldn't deny that he deserved it.
Will looked like his father. . .but Cammy behaved like him, in more than one way. Family was most important of all to her, and in her eyes, Jack was a member of that family. He hurt her when he didn't ask for help. She had the money, she had the resources, she had the desire. She could have helped him. . .if he just asked for it. If she knew he needed help, she would have been there for him.
That was the heart of the matter, wasn't it? Jack sighed, rubbing at his eyes, careful to avoid the kohl. Cammy went through enough already. That old git she was married to. . .Jack didn't know who killed that one, but he would give the killer a medal for it. Even if it was Barbossa, which Jack knew it wasn't. Nah, if it was Barbossa, the old bastard would have been carved up, instead of sliced up, with his guts on the outside, for all the world to see.
And, after Barbossa was finished with him, he really *would* have been a eunuch, as Jack asked Will when they first met. Probably would have left the remains out for the public's view. No. No, it wasn't Jack's old enemy, and it wasn't Jack himself, though he would have liked to claim credit for it. He didn't kill unless someone deserved to die. Like Barbossa. Or the late and unlamented Ramsey Webster. Jack mentally saluted Webster's killer, whoever that happened to be, then began to shimmy down the tree.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, as the case may be, he didn't quite look where he was going. Nor did he notice that the couple whom he was observing only moments earlier were no longer dancing, much less in the same spot. Thus, as he reached the bottom of the tree and turned around, he found a familiar face waiting there for him. Jack smiled brightly and the newcomer sighed with a shake of the head. The pirate captain tried not to laugh, for he knew it would only earn him yet *another* slap.
"Jack, Jack, Jack. It's a good thing for you I saw you first and sent James off on an errand. Or you could have been in serious trouble right about now," Camille Turner said, folding her arms over her chest. Jack briefly considered playing innocent, then dismissed that. No, she would never believe him. And like her new sister-in-law, Camille Turner would never let him hear the end of something when she was right. Aye, now there was a frightful thought. . .Elizabeth and Cammy joining forces!
"I had to come, luv. Just to make sure that brother of yours didn't do anything stupid," Jack finally said. A familiar light flared in Cammy's dark eyes. . .right before she slapped him across the face. Jack's head jerked sideways with the force of the blow, and he looked at her slowly, more than a little annoyed at how good his little Cammy was getting with these slaps, asking in a hurt voice, "Now wha' did I do to deserve that?"
"My brother isn't stupid. He may not always think first, but it doesn't make him stupid. It makes him young and impulsive. He's learning. And he had a lot to re-think, in those days. You turned his world upside down, and expected him to just accept it? He had to accept that his father, that our father, was a pirate. He had to accept that his life was made up of lies. Now, if you expect him to re-think everything in his life, without a struggle, then you're the one who's stupid!" Cammy growled at him.
That brought Jack up short. She growled at him. His Cammy, his little angel, actually *growled* at him. Well yes, it was to defend her brother. . .but she growled at him! It was a strange situation for Jack Sparrow. Rarely was he at a loss for words. So, instead of answering her, Jack changed the subject and asked, "You know, you've never told me, lass. Why did you change your name to 'Alicia,' and when did you change it? And while I'm thinkin' on it. . .why are you keepin' time with Commodore Norrington? Stuffed shirts ain't your style, luv."
Cammy sighed and rubbed at her eyes, answering, "The answers to your questions are, because I like him and he can make me laugh; it was changed for me when I was fourteen and became a woman; and my former mistress chose it because it means 'truth.' It was her way of telling the master if he put his hands somewhere they didn't belong, she would find out." Jack puzzled through the answers he was given, then put them together.
"But that still doesn't explain why you call yourself 'Alicia,' luv, when you have a perfectly good name," he finally said. His reward this time was an exasperated expression. Jack continued, careful not to engage in his sideways logic, "Honestly. How in the bloody hell do you expect people who knew you and loved you to find you when you use a name they don't know? They come expecting 'Cammy' or 'Camille,' but they find 'Alicia' instead. Where's the sense in that?"
"Are you telling me that my father *is* still alive?" Cammy asked, pouncing on Jack's words the way Jack often pounced on rum. The pirate blinked at her. Was her father still alive? Why would she think that? Cammy raised her eyebrows expectantly, adding, "Well, you did say people who knew me and loved me. Barbossa is dead. You know I use the name 'Alicia' now. That leaves only my father."
Well. That was unexpected. And Cammy wasn't finished yet, either. She continued, "Ever since you told me about the curse, I've been thinking. My father was cursed, just as Barbossa was. And even when the coin was no longer in his possession, the curse remained. Now. You told me that Mr Gibbs repeated to you, the story of how my father supposedly died. The story told to my brother aboard the Pearl. . .how Barbossa attached cannons to my father's bootstraps and then threw him overboard. But Jack, my father was still under the curse. That was ten years ago. Do you really think he would have still been down there, after all this time?"
She almost sounded like she believed it. And Jack wanted to believe it, but then reality intruded. Being mad had its share of advantages, but there was one little fact Cammy was overlooking. As gently as he could, Jack asked, "All you say is true, luv, I'll not deny that. But if your father was truly alive. . .he would have contacted you or Will by now. If he was alive, and I'll not say he is, but if he was alive. . .why hasn't he contacted you?"
"He has no idea where to look for me, Jack. I could be dead, for all he knows. And the same with Will. But mark my words. My father would have realized that by sending the medallion to Will, he inadvertently put my brother's life in danger. . .and he would have found a way to get free, to protect his child in any way he could," Cammy answered. Bloody hell. The lass really did think this through. There was more, though, for Cammy added quietly, "I'd do no less for Tamsyn."
Well now, that did put a different spin on things. Jack was looking at this through the eyes of a pirate, and rightfully so, because that was exactly what he was. But Cammy was a woman, and more than that, she was a mother. Bootstrap once told him that his whole view of the world would change when Jack had children. Jack answered that was why he had no intention of ever fathering any children. He was quite happy all by his onesy, thank you!
Cammy wasn't finished, either. Damn the lass, she was looking at this from all the angles. Just the way he, Barbossa, and Bill taught her. It was definitely a moment when Jack wished she was as rash as her younger brother. But Cammy was as cool-headed as Will was rash. Of course she would be, as she was nine years older than he was, but even so. Jack wished she wasn't so cool-headed.
It was hard to convince someone that they were wrong when they already thought of possible answers to the objections the convincer might raise. Bloody hell. He would leave now. Yes, that was what he would do. He would leave now, before yet another Turner offspring pulled him into something that didn't concern him. He said, "Well, lass, you seem to have all the answers. . .I should be going now, before your friend Norrington decides to clap me into irons once more."
Now she looked. . .disappointed. Oh, Jack hated that expression! She looked just like Bootstrap when she looked at him like that. That quiet, 'I expected better of you, Jack' look his old friend always wore when he thought Jack was doing something incredibly stupid. That brought the pirate up short. Now that he thought about it, he did his share of incredibly stupid things. Maybe the lass was right. . .maybe he shouldn't call Will 'stupid' for the things he did.
"If you wish, of course, I'll not stop you from leaving. But I thought you would be interested in finding out the truth. My father was your friend, Jack. And if he's still alive, wouldn't it be wonderful for the two of you to sail together again? Just like in the old days?" Cammy asked, her dark eyes shining. Worse. . .she was giving him the Look. The one that allowed her mother to wrap her father around her little finger. It worked even better for the daughter than it did for the mother. . .the daughter wasn't as interested in manipulating others as the mother was. That made it more dangerous.
Even so, it wouldn't work on Jack Sparrow, not on Captain Jack Sparrow! He was the terror of the Spanish Main, the scourge of the East India Company. . .and he would not be swayed by a chit of a girl (never mind that she was almost thirty years old) whose mother was a mistress of manipulation. The very idea that he could be induced into such daftness by the wiles of a woman! Feeling much better, Jack opened his mouth, and was dismayed to hear, "All right, lass, no need to give me the Look. Where do you want to start in finding Father dearest?"
He did not just say that. Jack clamped his jaws shut, but the words echoed mockingly in his ears. He wasn't just daft, he was totally mad! Where would he begin looking for Bootstrap Bill Turner? The lass had a point, if he was cursed as well, he would have spent the last ten years underwater, unable to die. And Bootstrap would have found a way to free himself from his bonds. He was thirty-eight at the time of his presumed death, and unlikely to be so foolish as his twenty year old son. He glowered at his friend's daughter, muttering, "Bloody hell! If you're right. . ."
He didn't finish the sentence. It was too much. He was right the first time, she was just like Elizabeth. . .if she was right about this, there would be no living with her after that. Cammy smiled then. Not the gloating smile her mother wore when she got her way, but a relieved smile, one which told Jack she would have conducted her own investigation, by her onesies. . .but was very glad she didn't have to.
"Well, the first thing we need to do, is get you out of Port Royal before James notices my absence, and before anyone notices your presence. Jack, you knew my father better than anyone. If anyone would know where he would go, once he resurfaced. . .literally. . .it would be you. Besides, you're a master of disguise. . .you can go anywhere, be anyone, and get all the information you need!" Cammy explained with enthusiasm.
Damn her, her passion was becoming contagious. During the last several months, repairs continued on the Pearl, and even the old joys of plundering and pillaging were growing boring. Jack needed a new venture, a new challenge, to hold his attention. None of his crew were as rash as Will, and thus, they were not as in need of guidance. Maybe this was just what he needed. The pirate captain puffed up as passion stirred within his soul once more.
He took off his hat, sweeping a deep bow to his little angel, and said, "Cap'n Jack Sparrow, luv, at your service. But a few rules need to be explained, savvy?" Cammy nodded expectantly, and Jack continued, "Number one, I do the work by me onesies. I can go places and talk to people you cannot. Rule number two. . .any information you get, is passed to me. You do not put yourself at risk for any reason."
"My first priority is my daughter, Jack," came the response. Jack tilted his head, considering that for a moment, then nodded. Cammy continued, "I can live with your rules. I have a few of my own. First, you investigate. . .but I wanted to be informed of progress. When you were almost hung, I saw a parrot. It seemed odd to me, because it was flying freely. I later learned from Elizabeth that the parrot belonged to a member of your crew. I don't expect you to endanger your life, but send a message to me by way of that parrot."
"Carrier parrot. Hmm. That's an interesting idea. That's a very interesting idea," Jack murmured. He was already laying out plans, charting out a course. As he told Will, it was often a case of waiting for the opportune moment. Cap'n Jack Sparrow might have been daft, but he most assuredly was not stupid. He planned, looked at all eventualities and consequences, and then planned more. Jack asked, "Anything else?"
"Of course. I spent the first five years of my life around pirates, Jack, I learned how to negotiate and bargain," came the prompt reply. Jack smiled, flashing his gold teeth at her. Ahh, she made him so proud! They taught her well, between the three of them. Cammy continued, "When you do feel comfortable with coming to Port Royal under the commodore's nose, let me know, and we'll set up a meeting place not far from where I live. We can meet, and I can ask someone to watch over Tamsyn while you tell me whatever you've discovered."
"Cammy, me dear lass, do not concern yourself. For now, luv, I should be going, before the aforementioned commodore returns to discover his new lady love in conversation with a known pirate. Tell me something, lass. . .do you know if he's a eunuch?" Jack asked, dropping his voice to a conversational tone. Cammy's dark eyes narrowed. That was the only warning he got before she slapped him. Again.
"Before you ask, Jack, yes, you *did* deserve that. Commodore Norrington happens to be my friend, a good friend. He saved my life and the life of my daughter. He spoke up for me when his superior officer considered me a suspect in my husband's murder. And maybe he's somewhat stiff, but he's a good man, an honorable man, and I will not allow you to denigrate him like that!" Cammy snapped. Right. And now was a good time to leave, before she broke his jaw!
. . .
While Jack Sparrow was at the Swann-Turner wedding incognito, his first mate, AnaMaria, was retrieving supplies. That actually had two purposes. First, and most obviously, she gathered the supplies they would need for their next several months at see. And secondly, it gave her an opportunity to listen to the gossip around the marketplace. AnaMaria rarely wore her breeches when she was gathering supplies. . .preferring to blend in with locals.
People who saw her assumed she was buying things for her master and mistress, and AnaMaria did nothing to dissuade them from that opinion. She kept her eyes lowered, not because she was ashamed or because she felt inferior to these people, but to hide her contempt for them. Most of them, for all their high and mighty airs, weren't in the least bit superior to her. AnaMaria was a pirate, to be sure, but she was honest about it. By the same token, she listened freely to conversations around the market, because her 'status' made her invisible.
And the conversation she was currently hearing was *very* interesting indeed. AnaMaria listened intently as a woman who just arrived from England went on and on about a horrid experience in her terrible journey to the Spanish Main. AnaMaria rolled her eyes under her hat. Twit. However, though the woman was clearly a twit, what she had to say *was* interesting. It seemed that one of the remaining pirate ships, the Diablo, attacked the ship on which the twit was traveling.
AnaMaria wondered if the woman realized that 'Diablo' was Spanish for 'devil,' or if she even cared. The female pirate heard of the Diablo, of course. Its captain was a second rate version of Barbossa. For reasons she couldn't fully comprehend, there were actually people who thought highly of the late pirate and wanted to be like him. Didn't seem to understand that it was the pirates like Barbossa who made life difficult for the rest of them.
So, the 'Diablo' attacked the ship traveling from England. Nothing unusual. However, what *was* unusual was the way this particular story ended. Another ship intervened. And from the way the twit described it, it almost sounded like another pirate ship. However, not many pirate ships carried the innocuous sounding name of 'Camille.' And most pirate ships wouldn't come to the aid of a Royal Navy ship under attack by another pirate ship.
And yet, that was exactly what happened. Ana committed the details to her memory. The woman saw the other ship from her stateroom, where she was confined for the duration of the battle. Like the 'Black Pearl,' this new ship, this 'Camille' had as its figurehead the head and torso of a woman. But the figurehead of the 'Camille' had the woman's hands cupped in front of her, as if cupping the face of a lover.
She flew no flag. And the only person she saw clearly was the young man who fought outside her window, against a pirate who was trying to gain access to her stateroom in this way. He was no more than thirty years old, with shoulder-length black hair and dark eyes. And, she added, fluttering her fan suggestively, he was quite handsome. After viewing that young man, she could understand the reason for the romance of piracy!
Which confirmed AnaMaria's original opinion. The woman was an idiot. However, right now, she was also a valuable source of information. According to the newcomer, the 'Diablo' was last seen sinking. . .and the 'Camille' took no damage at all. Interesting. Most of the Navy ships were incapable of fighting pirate ships. The rules of engagement, the ones young Will Turner spoke of.
Yes, it sounded like this 'Camille' was another pirate ship. But questions remained. First, who was captaining her? The more Ana listened to the woman's story, the more the captain of the rescuing ship sounded like Jack. He sounded daft. . .as Gibbs would say, daft like Jack. His plans usually succeeded because they were daft. And Neptune knew that Jack wasn't exactly your typical pirate. After all, what sane pirate would have dove into the ocean after Elizabeth Swann? No one but Jack, of course. Although that idea was a little on the frightful side to AnaMaria. Another Jack out there? It was all the lovely pirate could do to keep from shuddering at the very idea.
Ana just hoped this captain didn't steal the 'Camille' away from her rightful owner. She quietly paid for her purchases. . .no sense in attracting unwanted attention, after all. That was Jack's specialty, not hers. Ana had enough things going against her, simply by being a dark- skinned female pirate. She wasn't about to make her own life more difficult by bringing unwanted attention to herself.
As she headed back to the 'Pearl,' Ana wondered if Jack was finished at the Swann-Turner wedding yet. She hoped so. She wanted to tell him about the 'Camille,' and see what he thought. Ana was unwilling to give up on her dream of once more having her own ship. Though Jack was a good captain, the 'Pearl' wasn't her ship. And Ana craved freedom, just as Jack did. To be the mistress of her own destiny.
On the other hand. . .much as she hated to admit it, she almost enjoyed the camaraderie she felt on the 'Pearl.' Were she the captain, she would have to find a crew whom she trusted, and that wasn't such an easy thing to do. She had only to look at her daft captain to know that. He was betrayed by his crew once. Ana sighed in spite of herself as she made her way back to the meeting point, as ever careful to keep an eye around her.
Never, in her wildest dreams, did AnaMaria imagine that the daft captain of the 'Camille' might hold the key to making her fondest wish come true. Sometimes, the daft or the mad are the most capable of making the impossible happen.