The next day I woke early.

My eyelids fluttered open revealing a nearly dark room. I shivered, finding my blanket had been half kicked to the floor as I tossed and turned during my sleep. I had not found any peace during my rest, only a nagging uneasiness, surpassed occasionally by an emptiness. A gut wrenching emptiness. The pillow beneath my cheek was wet from the tears that I had wept whilst I slept.

I swung my feet to the floor and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the blanket around my shoulders for comfort rather than warmth. Elizabeth's blue dress lay crumpled in a corner of the room, discarded in a fit of rage and frustration. I liked the white underdress better anyway. Shame it would be so improper for a lady to be seen wearing it. But then again, I wasn't a lady anymore. I wasn't anybody. Just Ebony.

With a sigh, I pulled the blankets tighter around me and walked over to the window and pulled the curtains open. The room afforded a brilliant view of the sea, and at this hour the sun was just rising over its edge. It's red light painting the sky crimson and making the calm water of the bay shimmer like rubies.

"Red sky in morning, sailor's mourning." I muttered to myself. Another elusive memory.

With a grim smile I hoped the saying was wrong.

As I surveyed the scene below me, I noticed the town was much more subdued this time of morning. Only the harbour seemed to show signs of life as ships were being loaded for various voyages, or plundering trips.

I don't know how long I stood at the window, looking out. It was as though I was entranced by the view and it wasn't until my eyes fell upon Jack Sparrow's figure striding up the cobblestone street towards the house that I recollected myself.

He entered the house without glancing up once and I waited apprehensively. A few minutes later I turned as a knock sounded on my door and I instinctively took a step backwards.

Miss Gateau entered the room and I let out a small sigh of relief before quickly sinking into a curtsy which she waved away.

"Captain Sparrow has requested that I wake you, but apparently there was no need..." Her obviously French accent made me smile.

Her eyes scanned me from head to toe, pausing and narrowing on my chest.

Confused, I glanced down to see what was so fascinating and my heart jumped a beat as I saw the gold medallion resting against my chest, instead of it's usual place tucked inside of the dress. I cursed myself for my carelessness in forgetting to tuck it back in.

Miss Gateau smiled, "What an unusual trinket." She remarked artlessly.

I smiled feebly and hastily stiffed the 'trinket' down the front of my dress. "Thankyou."

Her eyes roamed the room and stopped on the crumpled blue dress. "But you are not dressed!"

"No." I agreed. "But you know, that's alright. It's actually very uncomfortable, and this white dress is much more my style and I can't actually put the blue one on by myself what with my hand being as it is..." I stammered quickly, holding up my bandaged hand to attest to my excuse.

Miss Gateau's eyes widened slightly. "What has happened?"

I self-consciously clasped the injured hand with my good hand. "I, ah, stopped a sword from flying into the back of Sparrow's neck..."

"Vraiment!?" A look of surprise crossed her face, which soon faded away into amusement. "Je le trouve très distrayante."

"What?"

She smiled placidly. "Nothing. Regardless, c'est not proper for a lady to go out without a proper dress."

"But I'm not a lady, Miss Gateau..."

"You do not know that." She replied.

Did she know I had no memory? I wondered. And in that case, did she know I had thought myself to be her? I coloured slightly.

"I will help you to put it on." She said kindly, and as much as I felt the compliment that a governor's daughter should help me dress, I was dismayed at the prospect of wearing the oxygen restricting dress once more.

Resignedly I stepped into the dress and allowed Miss Gateau to lace up the back. "Not too tight..." I requested anxiously.

She let out a quiet laugh. "I do not like them also." She admitted.

My curiosity about this woman tempered with my uneasiness. "You weren't kidnapped, were you?"

"No."

"Why did you run away?"

"I did not wish to marry mon fiancé."

"Captain Jacques?" I asked without thinking.

"Oui." She was silent for moment. "Captain Sparrow said that you thought yourself to be me."

I flushed. So she did know. "Yes. Uh, sorry, I was going on information from an untrustworthy source."

She let out a huff of amusement.

I was suddenly very curious. "How do you know Sparrow?"

"He helped me escape from Haiti."

I was astonished. "He did? Why?"

"Because I asked him." She gave the strings of the dress one more yank before tying them and stepping back.

I have to admit, she had tied them much better than Estrella had, I could actually breathe comfortably.

"Thankyou." I said, turning around. I was still very confused. "So why did Jack agree? It doesn't seem like the kind of thing he would do without getting something in return."

She smiled. "He doesn't like outstanding debts."

"And he owed you a debt?"

She gave me an odd look. "You ask a lot of questions."

I smiled wanly. "When you are about to set sail with a man you don't trust it's best to ask questions."

She gave a little shrug. "We should go downstairs. The others are getting ready to depart."

Jack was leaning casually against the banister at the bottom of the stairs as Miss Gateau and I descended. He turned to watch us, and I noticed that his eyes met Miss Gateau's for a moment longer than was necessary and his eyebrow raised the tiniest fraction. She returned this with a small nod and his eyes moved on to settle in a perplexing stare on me. I felt like a mouse being watched by a hawk under his gaze and I didn't understand why.

Ill at ease, I refused to meet his glare and focused my attention on the other figures occupying the small foyer, Will, who was flicking his fingers impatiently, and the man who had been with Miss Gateau in the bar the previous night. He was standing solemnly by the door with his arms crossed over his chest, looking up from his intent study of the wooden floorboards when he heard the scrape of our feet on the stairs.

With a smile lightening her face, Miss Gateau swept down the remainder of the stairs and over to where the man was standing, before placing her slender, white hands on his shoulders and rising slightly on her toes and whispering something in his ear. He nodded, and she deposited a small kiss on his cheek, then turned her attention back to the rest of us who were not privy to her private raptures.

I had stopped, a few steps above where Jack stood, not completely willing to pass him without the safety of another body between us.

"Mister Turner, Miss Ebony, Damien will take you to your ship." Miss Gateau announced smiling.

Will turned to Jack. "Aren't you coming?" he asked. I thought I could detect a cold suspicion in his voice, but then again, his voice so often held that tone it was hard to tell.

Jack gave him a patronising smirk. "I'll be coming in a short while, don't you worry your pretty little head about it. You just be a good lad and do as you're told, eh?"

He then turned to me and offered me an arm, which I coolly ignored.

Jack sighed and placed his hand on my back so that he was able to usher me down the rest of the stairs. "That goes for you too, Miss Ebony. Let's see if you can manage not to run off again." He said in a low voice.

"So I'm a prisoner now?" I asked in a deflated voice.

I was deliberately looking away but I could practically feel Jack's eyebrows rise in mock indignation. "Did ye not want to come on this voyage?" His voiced dripped with sarcasm.

I said nothing, immensely grateful when I was handed over to Will, whose offered arm I took immediately.

Damien moved to the door and pulled it open, flinging us a silent motion to follow.

Will gave Jack and Miss Gateau one last look before leading me out into the bright day, and as the door banged shut behind us I shuddered, glad to be free of Sparrow's scrutinising glare.

We walked to the docks in silence. I myself was feeling too uncomfortable after the identity shattering events of the previous night to break the taciturnity, Damien was striding ahead, not appearing to be willing to communicate and Will was caught up in some deep though of his which was making little frown lines appear on his forehead. I pondered the nature of his thoughts for a while, debating silently whether he was thinking about the love of his life who had been whisked away from him, or some other unsettling thought such as the cause of Jack's delay.

"So what should I call you now?" Will's voice startled me out of my reverie and as I looked around I realised we had reached the pier closest to the Interceptor. Damien was leaning against a post, looking impatient and every now and then glancing over to the way we had come.

I turned back to Will and shrugged. "Ebony, I guess."

There was an uncomfortable pause which I felt the need to break.

"Sorry if it, ah, seemed as though I was lying..."

Will shrugged. "It's not as though it was your fault." I gave him a look and he elaborated. "Sparrow explained the mix up after you and he returned last night."

"Good to see he hasn't been talking about me with everyone, then." I grumbled.

"Actually, he was asking a lot of questions about when I found you."

"Why?"

Another shrug. "Whatever the reason it certainly put him in a fine mood this morning." Will said sarcastically.

"What did you say to him, then?"

"Only that I found you on a beach with no memory."

"That's what I told him."

"And he still doesn't trust you?"

"Apparently not." I noticed my hand had unconsciously risen to finger the chain around my neck and I dropped it quickly.

Will, however, just grinned sportingly. "Three guesses what he's talking about now."

I could only return the grin half-heartedly and seated myself on a large crate sitting at the beginning of the pier, watching the busy scene of men carting crates and supplies into boats to be rowed out to the Interceptor, directed by none other than Gibbs, who much to my surprise appeared sober this morning. He glanced in my direction and tilted his head in an acknowledging nod, which I returned.

With a loud grumble of my stomach I realised how long it had been since I had eaten a proper meal. No wonder I was feeling slightly weak headed. Next to the crate was a large bunch of rather green bananas and I picked the ripest looking banana from the bunch and was about to peel it when I spotted Jack's figure striding towards the docks, his long black coat billowing out slightly behind him. Even from a distance I could see a grin on his face.

"Morning, all." He called airily, strutting towards us casually.

I looked at Will, my eyebrows raised slightly, wondering if he had noticed the extreme mood swing that had occurred in the fifteen-minute time space.

Damien moved towards Jack and held out his hand which Jack took without hesitation.

"Always a pleasure, Damien, my lad." Jack said grinning.

"Same to you." Came the reply, then with a grin, "Better luck on this voyage."

Jack smirked sourly.

Will and I exchanged a look.

With a short bow towards Will and myself, Damien headed back up the road we had come.

"Jack!" Gibbs' voice loudly protruded from the other side of the pier. "There ye be! Come see what we got!" He came over to us and gestured wildly to a group of men to assemble themselves into a line.

Jack looked at Will with something akin to smugness, and clapped him on the back. "Come, lad, lets take a looksee at the sturdy and able-bodied crew 'this mob' has spat at."

He turned to me and tipped his hat in a gentleman-like fashion and plucked the uneaten banana out of my hands. "Ta," he said before strolling up to the head of the line with Will following.

Gibbs' voice came floating over to where I remained sitting. "Feast your eyes, Captain. All of them faithful hands before the mast, each man worth his salt – and crazy to boot!"

I glanced over to the assemblage of sailors and smiled in amusement. This 'able-bodied crew' of Jack's was anything but the fit crew of strong young men in their prime I was expecting. Instead it was made up of an assortment of men ranging from a midget who did not look as though he could reach a majority of the sail ropes, to a number of old men who didn't look as though they could pull on them. I stole a look at Jack and Will who were strolling down the ranks inspecting the men, and my pleasure increased to see Jack's meagre attempts to hide his own dismay at the sight. Will, however, was subtly gloating. He leaned towards Jack slightly and said something in a low voice, causing Jack to glare at him and take a few steps forward and turn to face a grizzled old man with a multitude of grey hairs protruding from beneath a bandana. "You sailor!" He barked at the poor man, who in defence for his age barely blinked.

"Cotton, sir" Gibbs informed Jack promptly.

"Mr Cotton..." Jack began, wriggling his shoulders back to make himself appear taller as he stared Mr Cotton down. "Do you have the courage and fortitude to stay to in the face of danger and almost certain death?"

There was a long pause in which nobody spoke.

"Mr Cotton!" Jack barked. "Answer man!"

"He's a mute sir." Gibbs remarked helpfully, stepping forward. "Poor devil had his tongue cut out." At this point Mr Cotton obligingly opened his mouth to show Jack and Will his lack of tongue, making both men recoil, Jack particularly jolted, stuck out his own tongue. Had I been in a better mood I might have laughed at his obvious discomfort. Gibbs continued on, "so he trained the parrot to talk for him. No ones yet figured out how."

I shook my head in disbelief at this ridiculous statement, even more amazed when Jack took a step forward, and turned to face the bright, tropical coloured parrot sitting on Mr Cotton's left shoulder.

"Mr Cotton's ...parrot." He said, looking quite disconcerted. "Same question."

The parrot gave a loud squawk before screeching, "wind in the sails! Wind in the sails!"

"And that would mean...?" I asked loudly.

"Mostly we figure that means yes." Gibbs explained sheepishly.

Jack raised his eyebrows at me. "'Course it does." He turned to Will. "Satisfied?"

"As satisfied as the cat who swallowed the canary, then choked on it and died." I grumbled beneath my breath.

"Well, you've proved them mad." Will shot back at Jack.

"And what's the benefit to us?" A voice cried out from further down the line, fairly close to where I was sitting, asking the question that must have been playing on the minds of most of the men assembled there.

I noticed Jack's demeanour go from confident to unsure in a heartbeat.

He edged down towards the owner of the voice hesitantly, and gingerly lifted the brim of the wide hat that was hiding the face of the speaker as though he was expecting something to jump out from underneath and attack him.

In a brave motion he whisked the hat off the sailor's head, revealing a young black woman with long hair that fell down as the hat was removed. Jack gave the woman a grim smile.

"Anamaria."

Anamaria slapped him.

In spite of myself I felt my face work it's way into a grin and noticed many of the sailors appeared to also be having trouble keeping a straight countenance.

"I suppose you didn't deserve that one, either." Piped Will cheerfully, coming up behind Jack.

Jack turned around with a grimace. "No, that one I deserved."

Anamaria gave a vigorous nod, as if to say, 'ah huh.'

"You stole my boat!" She shouted at Jack, poking her finger threateningly in the air in front of his chest.

Jack held up his forefingers in defence. "Actually..."

She slapped him again. Rightly so, I thought.

Jack's head whirled around and he opened his mouth wide in a silent cry of pain. "Borrowed." He accentuated desperately. "Borrowed without permission, but with every intention of bringing it back."

"But you didn't!" She shouted, taking a menacing step towards him.

Jack seemed to cower backwards before regaining a spark of energy and announcing to the advancing woman, "You'll get another one!"

Anamaria jabbed her finger into his chest. "I will!"

Jack held up the banana in front of him in defence.

"A better one." Suggested Will, cheerfully.

Jack gave a vigorous nod. "A better one." He agreed, accentuating his statement with a thrust of the banana in the air.

"That one!" Announced Will, grinning.

Jack whirled around to face him. "What one?"

Will pointed to the Interceptor, which was calmly floating a hundred or so metres off shore.

"That one!?" Jack cried, then, as though remembering the scary woman behind him, he turned resignedly. "Aye, that one! What say you?"

Anamaria frowned for a minute as though thinking it over, then let out a loud, "Aye!" which was echoed by the rest of the sailors on the pier, and by an "Anchors away!" by Mr Cotton's parrot.

In a furious grab accompanied by a glare, Anamaria snatched her hat out of Jack's hands and made after the swarm of sailors who were returning to their loading duties.

"No, no, no, no, no..." Moaned Gibbs, alarmed. "It's frightful bad luck to bring a woman aboard, sir."

Jack looked up at the blue sky. "It'd be far worse not to, however."

He clapped Gibbs on the shoulder and I noticed his eyes flick to me. "Besides, we wouldn't be leaving the lovely Miss Ebony behind."

Translations for French:

Vraiment - Really
Je le trouve très distrayante – I find that very entertaining
C'est – It's

However, I feel I must add that my French is actually not very good, and so if something I say doesn't actually make sense, then don't blame me, blame my lack of commitment to study the finer points of the language as much as I should.

Author's Note:
Yes, it has been a very long time since I last posted, a whole term in fact. And I should really know, because during that whole term I was at school, being buried in work and other things to write for English or Literature or History, and on the odd occasion when I wasn't buried in work and able to sit down to write, it pretty much came out crap... SO, I have come to the conclusion that trying to write during the term is almost impossible. Sorry. But at least you have some definite approximation (don't you love oxymorons) of when updates are most likely to occur.
Except that next holidays, the Christmas ones, I am going to be in France for six weeks as an exchange student, so we will have to see if I have time to write.

Now, many thanks to my faithful and wonderful reviewers!

VagrantCandy: Yes, back to "Just Ebony". It's sad, yet true, but thanks for the review! (Note to self: must stop rhyming.)

Rach: lol, uh.. sorry? Didn't mean to distract you from your work, but I'm glad you liked it so much anyway. I have to admit though, I am surprised at the lack of death threats that cliffhangers normally inspire, it's a pleasant surprise! Sorry about the wait.

Kat: Wow, three reviews! I feel so special.... I'm loving all the twists as well, lol. Screwing with the plot is fun. D I'm happy to hear that it seems realistic with the injuries, that had been worrying me a bit. The same goes for keeping people in character, but hey, I'll take your praise anyway, lol. I hope this chapter entertained you as well, and I just have to say I think we're all wondering what Elizabeth did to stay alive. Good to see another Australian on here!

Morph: Oh.. Sorry to make you forget what you thought was going to happen, but yes, I am very happy that you didn't expect the latest twists! Thanks for your review and I shall try my best to keep it up!

Devilslass: Thanks, I'm glad the last chapter was updated soon enough... sorry about the wait for this one. And I was telling my friend not all that long ago, coffee beans rule the world, and I have them to thank for this chapter.

Cori Chaning: lol, yes I am alive! And ready to inflict my evil genius on the world! coughs and looks around ..."Who said that..?" Anywho... thanks for your review!

Lizzie: Awww... thankyou! I shall take your praise and give you a chapter in return! Meanwhile, I would also love to know what is going to happen next.... D

Hedgehog: Lol! Your review mad me smile and laugh and then get off my arse (or actually not as I tend to write sitting down) and write. Yes, that's right, three hours from 12–3am spent finishing off this chapter. You were half right however, as I had found my spark (which, consequently, had been hiding from my evil homework in the third drawer of my desk) and had half finished this chapter when I got your review. And now it is posted. Rejoices Yayness!

Flister: Look! You get one of these little notes too! Are you not amazed? Yes, such wonders that occur when people shower me in praise.... Anyway, I shall say again, I have only one week left of holidays, but I shall try to write the next chapter in it. Hopefully I might get some writing done when I go away. As for you watching the movie when you were in a critical mood, shame, shame, shame. I am glad to have made you appreciate it more though... you can watch it again now and actually like it!

As always, please take full advantage of the happy little button in the bottom left-hand region of your screen.