Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except the roadblock in the relationship of Jack and Elizabeth (aka Henri d'Alphonse, odious villain) Oh, and the pub, I guess.

A/N: I lost my train of thought in the middle of this chapter, so if it seems to veer a little one way or the other, that's why. I think I got it back on track though.

OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 6: "The Gathering Place"

Jack sauntered down toward the harbor. To be perfectly fair, it was as close to actual running as he could get, but the fact still remained that it was a saunter. Upon reaching the harbor, Jack slowed to his usual meandering walk. Glancing around to assure himself that there were no soldiers to see him, Jack made his way through the streets of Port Royal, catching a glimpse of Henri as he disappeared around a corner. Jack picked his way through the crowd, eyes focused on the flamboyant hat that Henri was wearing.

Henri glanced around, checking to see if he recognized anyone. Satisfied, he slipped down a side alley. Jack stopped at the entrance to the alley and looked down. Henri was making his way toward the northern most part of the town: the only part of town that Jack could walk freely in. It was the section of town that possessed the sins and vices favored by the citizens of Port Royal. Jack raised one eyebrow in surprise at Henri's choice of location, but followed. He was no stranger to the area.

Henri ducked inside the pub, Jack several feet behind him. Henri slid into a booth, fingers nervously tapping the table. A mug of beer was brought to him. Several minutes later, a hooded man slid into the seat opposite Henri. Jack strained to hear the conversation.

"Any news of the Pearl?" Henri asked.

"Yes. She's off the coast, out just far enough that it would be an inconvenience for Groves to go after her. He wouldn't anyway, he hold Sparrow in too high regard."

"Yes, well, you have your pirate now, you can go off and collect the reward." Henri sounded bored. "Speaking of rewards..."

"You'll not receive yours until I have Sparrow in hand, which I haven't."

"That wasn't the agreement."

"When you undertake shady dealings, my boy, agreements mean little. Who are you going to report it to, the Royal Navy?"

"They've been wringing their hands together for years trying to catch a French privateer." Henri said, disgusted.

"Exactly. We work on my terms." The man turned as if to go. "Oh, about your letter of marque..."

"Do not deny me that, or I will filet you as you stand." Henri said, anger rising in his voice.

"I only wanted to know what name you wanted on it. You go by so many." The light glinted off the man's face for a moment, revealing a sarcastic looking smile.

"Adrian Lyon. That's my privateer persona."

"Very good. As I say, when I have the pirate, you will get your money and your letter."

"I should have the money now." Henri grumbled. "He's been dead four years now."

"I don't give the money, I just distribute it. You can take it up with someone who cares if you like." And the man disappeared into the crowded pub.

Henri shook his head as he raised his mug. "I always wondered why Frenchmen don't like Englishman. I think I know now." He murmured, then drained the mug. After he had put away two more mugs of beer, Henri stumbled toward the door, smashing his hat on his head. He wandered through the crowded streets, ignoring the various salesmen of vice that had positioned themselves along the way. Following him, Jack stayed in the shadows, hardly noticed, something that was not easy for him. He followed Henri as far as the inn at which he was staying, then watched as the drunken man mounted the stairs with some trouble and walked to his room. Certain that he would not be stirring anytime that night, Jack walked back down to the harbor.

Henri sat on his bed woozily. 'Perhaps that was a little too much beer.' He thought. He leaned back and thought over the day. It had been fine until this nasty business about the pirate. But then, he had spent it with Elizabeth. She was a lovely girl, but she was starting to bore him. Still, it would be a smart marriage, and Elizabeth knew better then to ask questions. Hadn't she been rescued by a blacksmith and a pirate? Pirate... what was that pirate's name? It seemed so familiar. Henri saw Elizabeth, sitting at her dining room table telling him the story, dancing in front of him through his alcoholic fog.

"Yes," it seemed to say "I know it's hard to believe, kidnapped and chased by undead pirates, and rescued by another pirate, but Jack wasn't an ordinary sort of a pirate. He was more human than any other pirate I've met, and I met quite a few during that time. No, Captain Jack Sparrow was a good man and a good pirate. And a good friend."

"Sparrow." Henri murmured. "Sparrow!" He sat up, suddenly sober by the realization that the Sparrow of her story was the self same Sparrow he was handing over to the disgruntled Englishman. He had known that Sparrow popped in and out of Port Royal, that was how he planned to catch him, sitting somewhere in the two day sail from Tortuga to Port Royal. Now, a new plan was forming. And suddenly, he realized why Sparrow came to Port Royal.

"Pirate's wench." he said, realizing slowly that the Lisette who had left England twelve years earlier was not the Lisette in the beach cottage. No, not at all. Henri ground his teeth, upset that he was taken in by a woman who associated with pirates, especially as closely as she did with Sparrow. It never occurred to Henri how deep his hypocrisy ran, but then, he had already jumped to conclusions to many times to notice the fall.