Author's note: I don't own Jack, Will, Bootstrap, Barbossa, Pintel or Elizabeth though I wish I did. And, for any of you who I have read my other story, please do not confuse this Anna Sparrow with the other. I have a strange knack for reusing the names. Same with Alex Turner and Alex Miller. I own them. I can do what I want with them. Anna Sparrow
Eighteen-year-old Anna Sparrow stood at the bow of the Black Pearl. The wind whipped her hair about her face, creating the appearance of a queen, which she wasn't. She was a pirate, and the daughter of a pirate.
Her father had died before she was born and her mother had died when she was three, leaving her in the care of her uncle, Jack Sparrow.
Anna remembered clearly the ten years her uncle had been trying to get his ship back. But the thing she remembered most, the thing that stood out in her mind, was the mutiny.
Anna hid, shaking, behind Bootstrap. He held the little girl's hand tightly. There was nothing he could do. The crew shoved Jack towards the plank.
"Uncle Jack..."
Bootstrap lifted the girl into his arms and she buried her face into his coat.
Barbossa shoved a pistol at Jack, who wore a murderous gaze.
"You bastard," Jack hissed. Barbossa grinned maliciously.
"Yeh brought it upon yerself, Jack," he said. Jack's face hardened.
"Yeh'll regret this, Barbossa. Burn in hell!" With that, Jack disappeared.
"Uncle Jack!" Anna screamed. She tried to wiggle out of Bootstrap's arms, but he held her tighter.
"C'mon, it's okay, Anna, it's okay," he whispered.
Barbossa then turned to face them. He grinned a toothy, lopsided grin and spoke. "Now fer you, Anna darling. Yeh can stay here, with us. Or, yeh can join yer uncle, down there." He pointed over the side. Anna shook her head and buried her face deeper into Bootstrap's chest.
"She will stay, Barbossa. She did nothing; she's naught but an innocent child," Bootstrap said harshly. Barbossa nodded.
"We'll let her off at the next port, then," he said.
"No!" Bootstrap yelled. "She is too young to be out on her own!"
Barbossa looked back at the crew-his crew- and shouted, "Do we want anythin' to remind us of ol' Cap'n Jack?"
"No!" came the reply.
"Then it's settled! She's off at the next port, Bootstrap, whether you like it or not."
Anna wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and took a deep breath. How she missed Bootstrap.
"We're ready, Cap'n."The crew shoved a struggling Bootstrap towards the side of the ship. Anna was not far away, kicking and hitting the men, trying to make them let go of Bootstrap. Her efforts were in vain, for one of the men, Pintel was his name, slapped her away. Bootstrap yelled in anger and placed a well-aimed kick. It hit Pintel in the groin and he doubled over in pain.
Another pirate stepped forward. He punched Bootstrap several times in the abdomen. "That outta teach yeh," he hissed. Bootstrap glared at him.
"What's goin' on 'ere?" came Barbossa's thundering voice. Bootstrap stopped struggling and the men froze in place. Anna sat on the deck, rubbing her cheek and trying to control her tears, which she was unable to accomplish.
Barbossa looked at her for a moment, before turning to Bootstrap. He looked him over, and then said, "Gents, why don't we tie Bootstrap's bootstraps to that cannon there and send him off on a little expedition to see Davy Jones' Locker?"
Cheers came from the men as they tied Bootstrap to one of the cannons.
"Any last words, Turner?" Barbossa asked.
"Anna, come here," he said. Anna got up, went over and threw her arms about his neck. "My dear little Anna," he whispered, so only she could hear. "Take care. Get off at the next port, no matter what, do you understand? You're a smart, pretty girl; you'll be okay. And Anna, if you ever meet my son, William, tell him that I love him, always and forever."
"I'll do it, Bootstrap," she whispered back.
"Enough!" Barbossa yelled, and pulled her away. "Anythin' else, Turner?"
"Yes. One thing. Burn in hell."
With that, the cannon was shoved over the side, Bootstrap with it.
Anna slid down to the deck, clutching the corners of her skirt. She was sobbing openly now, her hand wrapped about a nearby rope.
"Anna, what's the matter?"
Jack walked over to his niece and knelt next to her.
She wiped her tears away and stood. "Nothing, Jack. Just memories," she said. Jack nodded slowly.
"Cap'n!" Anamaria called from the wheel. "Port Royal, dead ahead!"
"Uncle Jack, why Port Royal? They know you here..."
"It's fine, Anna. I have some friends here. Won't they be surprised?"
Both Alex Miller and Will Turner banged away with hammer. Mr. Brown's forge rang with the sweet melody of hammers, the roar of the fire and the hiss made when hot iron came in contact with cold water.
Alex set down his piece and wiped his sweat away with the sleeve of his shirt. Will followed suit, collapsing onto a nearby stool.
"What time is it, Alex?" he asked. Alex looked over at the grandfather clock in the corner.
"'Tis almost six o'clock," he said glumly. Tonight was the night Mr. Brown made he and Will work late.
Will nodded slowly, almost sadly and stood again. "Let's get back to work, or Mr. Brown'll skin us."
"I agree."
With that, the two young men got back to work.
Anna stepped off the Pearl, her narrow, black and purple silk dress rustling softly. Jack was close behind her, wearing his usual, tatty clothing. Not that Anna's dress wasn't a bit less than perfect. There was a tiny tear in the hem and a few other minor things like that.
"Anna," Jack said quietly, "I'd rather you not be seen with me. Meet me at the blacksmith's at sundown, which is in about a half hour, savvy?"
Anna nodded, wiped off her skirts and headed off in the opposite direction Jack was.
Jack paid little heed to the crowded streets as he wove his way to the blacksmith's shop. The sound of hammers floated through the wooden doors as he raised his fist to knock. He hesitated, then lowered his hand. "Maybe I should try the back way..."
"Do you hear something, Will?" Alex asked. Will lowered his hammer and listened. Suddenly, he drew his sword. It did not take Alex long to do the same.
The back door swung open slowly.
"Jack?" Will asked in shock. Jack Sparrow flashed him a grin. "Jack!" Will rushed forward and embraced Jack. Alex, meanwhile, watched this peculiar sight with confusion.
"How are you, Jack?" Will asked, after breaking the embrace.
"Well, well. Very well. And you? How is Elizabeth?"
"We are quite well. In fact, we were just wondering about you." Jack grinned. The he caught sight of Alex. Silence.
Will cleared his throat. "Jack, this is my dear friend and partner, Alex Miller. Alex, this is a good friend of mine, Captain Jack Sparrow."
Jack removed his hat and bowed. "A pleasure," he said. Alex smiled back.
"Yes, 'tis," said he. "It is."
Anna walked slowly through the crowed streets of Port Royal. Occasionally, she would stop, and examine a fruit stand or watch a performer in the streets.
It was almost sundown when she turned to head to the blacksmith. Not watching where she was going, she ran head on into two other women. The force sent her sprawling on the ground.
Slowly, Anna sat up, rubbing her head.
"Are you okay?"
Anna looked up in surprise. "Huh? What? Oh! Yes, I am."
Two slender hands appeared. Anna grasped them both, and with the combined strength of her and the women, she was pulled to her feet.
She gasped. Two very well dressed young women were looking at her with concern.
"Are you all right?" asked the blonde-haired one. "You sure took a nasty fall."
"Yes, yes, I am quite all right. I am the one who should be apologizing. I wasn't watching where I was going." She looked down at her semi-faded skirts.
"Nonsense," said the brunette. "It was an accident. By the way, I am Jacky Miller and this is Elizabeth Swann."
"Anna. Anna Sparrow."
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Jacky said. Elizabeth was silent.
"Sparrow?" she asked finally. "As in 'Jack Sparrow'?"
"You know my uncle?" Anna asked, a mixture of shock and surprise.
Elizabeth nodded. "He's here?"
Anna nodded. "He is."
"Where?"
"I am supposed to be meeting him at the blacksmith's shop now. Do you know where that is? Can you take me there?"
"Of course! Follow me." She grabbed Anna's hand and led her away, towards the center of town. Jacky followed, bewildered.
Eighteen-year-old Anna Sparrow stood at the bow of the Black Pearl. The wind whipped her hair about her face, creating the appearance of a queen, which she wasn't. She was a pirate, and the daughter of a pirate.
Her father had died before she was born and her mother had died when she was three, leaving her in the care of her uncle, Jack Sparrow.
Anna remembered clearly the ten years her uncle had been trying to get his ship back. But the thing she remembered most, the thing that stood out in her mind, was the mutiny.
Anna hid, shaking, behind Bootstrap. He held the little girl's hand tightly. There was nothing he could do. The crew shoved Jack towards the plank.
"Uncle Jack..."
Bootstrap lifted the girl into his arms and she buried her face into his coat.
Barbossa shoved a pistol at Jack, who wore a murderous gaze.
"You bastard," Jack hissed. Barbossa grinned maliciously.
"Yeh brought it upon yerself, Jack," he said. Jack's face hardened.
"Yeh'll regret this, Barbossa. Burn in hell!" With that, Jack disappeared.
"Uncle Jack!" Anna screamed. She tried to wiggle out of Bootstrap's arms, but he held her tighter.
"C'mon, it's okay, Anna, it's okay," he whispered.
Barbossa then turned to face them. He grinned a toothy, lopsided grin and spoke. "Now fer you, Anna darling. Yeh can stay here, with us. Or, yeh can join yer uncle, down there." He pointed over the side. Anna shook her head and buried her face deeper into Bootstrap's chest.
"She will stay, Barbossa. She did nothing; she's naught but an innocent child," Bootstrap said harshly. Barbossa nodded.
"We'll let her off at the next port, then," he said.
"No!" Bootstrap yelled. "She is too young to be out on her own!"
Barbossa looked back at the crew-his crew- and shouted, "Do we want anythin' to remind us of ol' Cap'n Jack?"
"No!" came the reply.
"Then it's settled! She's off at the next port, Bootstrap, whether you like it or not."
Anna wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and took a deep breath. How she missed Bootstrap.
"We're ready, Cap'n."The crew shoved a struggling Bootstrap towards the side of the ship. Anna was not far away, kicking and hitting the men, trying to make them let go of Bootstrap. Her efforts were in vain, for one of the men, Pintel was his name, slapped her away. Bootstrap yelled in anger and placed a well-aimed kick. It hit Pintel in the groin and he doubled over in pain.
Another pirate stepped forward. He punched Bootstrap several times in the abdomen. "That outta teach yeh," he hissed. Bootstrap glared at him.
"What's goin' on 'ere?" came Barbossa's thundering voice. Bootstrap stopped struggling and the men froze in place. Anna sat on the deck, rubbing her cheek and trying to control her tears, which she was unable to accomplish.
Barbossa looked at her for a moment, before turning to Bootstrap. He looked him over, and then said, "Gents, why don't we tie Bootstrap's bootstraps to that cannon there and send him off on a little expedition to see Davy Jones' Locker?"
Cheers came from the men as they tied Bootstrap to one of the cannons.
"Any last words, Turner?" Barbossa asked.
"Anna, come here," he said. Anna got up, went over and threw her arms about his neck. "My dear little Anna," he whispered, so only she could hear. "Take care. Get off at the next port, no matter what, do you understand? You're a smart, pretty girl; you'll be okay. And Anna, if you ever meet my son, William, tell him that I love him, always and forever."
"I'll do it, Bootstrap," she whispered back.
"Enough!" Barbossa yelled, and pulled her away. "Anythin' else, Turner?"
"Yes. One thing. Burn in hell."
With that, the cannon was shoved over the side, Bootstrap with it.
Anna slid down to the deck, clutching the corners of her skirt. She was sobbing openly now, her hand wrapped about a nearby rope.
"Anna, what's the matter?"
Jack walked over to his niece and knelt next to her.
She wiped her tears away and stood. "Nothing, Jack. Just memories," she said. Jack nodded slowly.
"Cap'n!" Anamaria called from the wheel. "Port Royal, dead ahead!"
"Uncle Jack, why Port Royal? They know you here..."
"It's fine, Anna. I have some friends here. Won't they be surprised?"
Both Alex Miller and Will Turner banged away with hammer. Mr. Brown's forge rang with the sweet melody of hammers, the roar of the fire and the hiss made when hot iron came in contact with cold water.
Alex set down his piece and wiped his sweat away with the sleeve of his shirt. Will followed suit, collapsing onto a nearby stool.
"What time is it, Alex?" he asked. Alex looked over at the grandfather clock in the corner.
"'Tis almost six o'clock," he said glumly. Tonight was the night Mr. Brown made he and Will work late.
Will nodded slowly, almost sadly and stood again. "Let's get back to work, or Mr. Brown'll skin us."
"I agree."
With that, the two young men got back to work.
Anna stepped off the Pearl, her narrow, black and purple silk dress rustling softly. Jack was close behind her, wearing his usual, tatty clothing. Not that Anna's dress wasn't a bit less than perfect. There was a tiny tear in the hem and a few other minor things like that.
"Anna," Jack said quietly, "I'd rather you not be seen with me. Meet me at the blacksmith's at sundown, which is in about a half hour, savvy?"
Anna nodded, wiped off her skirts and headed off in the opposite direction Jack was.
Jack paid little heed to the crowded streets as he wove his way to the blacksmith's shop. The sound of hammers floated through the wooden doors as he raised his fist to knock. He hesitated, then lowered his hand. "Maybe I should try the back way..."
"Do you hear something, Will?" Alex asked. Will lowered his hammer and listened. Suddenly, he drew his sword. It did not take Alex long to do the same.
The back door swung open slowly.
"Jack?" Will asked in shock. Jack Sparrow flashed him a grin. "Jack!" Will rushed forward and embraced Jack. Alex, meanwhile, watched this peculiar sight with confusion.
"How are you, Jack?" Will asked, after breaking the embrace.
"Well, well. Very well. And you? How is Elizabeth?"
"We are quite well. In fact, we were just wondering about you." Jack grinned. The he caught sight of Alex. Silence.
Will cleared his throat. "Jack, this is my dear friend and partner, Alex Miller. Alex, this is a good friend of mine, Captain Jack Sparrow."
Jack removed his hat and bowed. "A pleasure," he said. Alex smiled back.
"Yes, 'tis," said he. "It is."
Anna walked slowly through the crowed streets of Port Royal. Occasionally, she would stop, and examine a fruit stand or watch a performer in the streets.
It was almost sundown when she turned to head to the blacksmith. Not watching where she was going, she ran head on into two other women. The force sent her sprawling on the ground.
Slowly, Anna sat up, rubbing her head.
"Are you okay?"
Anna looked up in surprise. "Huh? What? Oh! Yes, I am."
Two slender hands appeared. Anna grasped them both, and with the combined strength of her and the women, she was pulled to her feet.
She gasped. Two very well dressed young women were looking at her with concern.
"Are you all right?" asked the blonde-haired one. "You sure took a nasty fall."
"Yes, yes, I am quite all right. I am the one who should be apologizing. I wasn't watching where I was going." She looked down at her semi-faded skirts.
"Nonsense," said the brunette. "It was an accident. By the way, I am Jacky Miller and this is Elizabeth Swann."
"Anna. Anna Sparrow."
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Jacky said. Elizabeth was silent.
"Sparrow?" she asked finally. "As in 'Jack Sparrow'?"
"You know my uncle?" Anna asked, a mixture of shock and surprise.
Elizabeth nodded. "He's here?"
Anna nodded. "He is."
"Where?"
"I am supposed to be meeting him at the blacksmith's shop now. Do you know where that is? Can you take me there?"
"Of course! Follow me." She grabbed Anna's hand and led her away, towards the center of town. Jacky followed, bewildered.