AN: I wrote this for a homework assignment in English. I have to say it was the best assignment ever. Mr. A rocks. I got an A on it and Mr. A really liked it, so here I am posting it on Takes place during the voyage to Tortuga, if you don't pick that up from the story. Enjoy.

My Father's Blood

'Stab. Block. Parry. Jab. Dodge. Attack," I said in my mind. I paused in my training and wiped the sweat off my brow. I was too distracted.

The Caribbean sun was setting, turning the sky into a brilliant orange and pink hue and the sea into a set of sparkling jewels. I placed my sword back into its sheath and glanced up to the helm.

I walked tentatively across the deck; my steps looked like a drunkard's leaving a tavern or Jack walking on land. My mind was still reeling from what Jack told me; my father was a pirate. A thing I detested most. I had to find out more. The ship beneath me groaned, protesting the stealing – no commandeering that took place early this morning by Jack and myself. I am now a pirate in the eyes of the British Navy.

I finally reached the helm; Jack stood proudly at the wheel. He looked at place there. His kohl-rimmed eyes scanned the horizon and the tanned hands glided the wheel with ease. The small trinkets in his hair swayed with the sea breeze. His eyes broke their gaze and turned to me.

"So are ye ready to kill some pirates?" he asked. He looked back to the sunset, absorbing the Caribbean.

"If I must to save Miss Swann," I replied. A sly grin grew on the pirate's face. The gold teeth flashed. I paused, looking out to the sea, my fists clenching slightly.

Jack noticed my silence and once again addressed me, "Are ye regrettin' going after the girl, mate? Or breakin' me free?"

"Jack, what was my father like?" I managed to say. I needed to know.

"Well, William, he was a pirate, a good pirate. Not at all like Barbossa's mutinous crew, savvy?" he responded, his brown eyes suddenly flashing.

"But Jack, what was he like? I know nothing about him. I've lived my whole life thinking he was a merchant sailor not a…" I stopped. I could not bring myself to say pirate.

Jack looked at me, his eyes sober. All sounds were muted as he began to speak, "I met ole Bootstrap when I was a young lad, around your age. I had just left my hometown for more adventure in me life. I stumbled, quite literally, into him at the dock and joined his pirate crew. I quickly learned it was a great honor to be in Bootstrap's crew," Jack paused. He looked more human than pirate at the moment, his hands unnaturally calm on the wheel.

"He treated every man on his shop equally and never hid anythin' from us. He told us of a wife he had back in London and his son, William Jr. He also divided the booty between us equally. I wanted ter be just like him," Jack stopped once more, lost in memory.

I stood there waiting for Jack to continue. Jack is my link to my father's past.

His chocolate eyes gazed into mine before once again looking out to sea. "William taught me everythin' I needed ter know 'bout pirating, the sea, and how to be a good captain. We had a few good plunders. I got this tattoo in the East Indies," he indicated the flying sparrow on his inside arm, "and this one when we got caught." He pointed to the white brand bearing P. "We parted ways temporarily but I met up with 'im in Tortuga once. After ten years of terrorizing the sea, William wanted ter go back to ye and ye mum. He gave 'is ship to me and we were goin' ter do one more loot together…" Jack lingered on his thought, his eyes filled with sadness for a brief second before it was gone. "Ye should be proud of yer father, William. He saved me life more than once. He gave me the freedom like a sparrow flying from the nest." Jack said. Then, he easily slipped back into the Captain Jack Sparrow demeanor and with arms flying about, he ordered, "Now, young William, get the boat – ship reading for docking. We'll be landing in Tortuga soon, savvy?" Time for some good rum."

I stumbled away from Jack to prepare the ship. Perhaps all pirates are not so bad, like my father and Jack. Then, with the salty wind blowing on my face, I realized that perhaps I could cope having a pirate's blood in me.

Copyrighted © 2005

-Anaticulapraecantrix