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Sorry this took so long. I seem to have lost a few readers here and there, so I guess that's what I get for taking so long between updates.
For those who did review, thanks! I've replied as usual at the end. Your reviews keep me going and I am grateful that you each took the time to send one.
Now on to
A Pirate's Life and Death part 12 by Ecri
The sea was still and serene. Light from the full moon painted a broad streak of luminescence across the midnight waters giving an ethereal glow to the surface. Far from mysterious, however, the sight was beautiful to behold, and, to the two figures also bathed in that moonlight, it had a soothing affect.
Will Turner breathed deeply, relishing the act though at the same time appalled that a deep breath had become something so rare and unusual for him that he would take the time to notice it at all, let alone savor the act and its effects. In truth he had little clear memory of his illness or his recovery. His thoughts had centered first on desperation to free Elizabeth, then on failure when she was sold, and finally on despair as he realized he was ill and growing weaker for, in such a state, he could not hope to find and free Elizabeth.
The clean, fresh air, the tang of salt from the sea, having Elizabeth, whole and healthy by his side all seemed more of a blessing than he ever could have imagined. He reached then for her hand and drew her closer to him, enjoying the way she seemed to fit in his arms and overjoyed at the chance again to fit into her life just as well.
She breathed deeply as if trying to inhale the very essence of the man who held her, and he smiled at the thought, for he often found her own scent intoxicating.
It felt almost like a dream to him that they now stood in each other's arms. "I love you, Elizabeth."
"I love you, too, Will."
His heart skipped a beat to hear those words, and he smiled though she couldn't see it. Their life in Port Royal seemed so far away. For him, she was all that existed. So deep inside this moment had he fallen, that it took several minutes for him to notice Jack, who, having tended to the necessities of putting out of port, now stood beside the young couple.
"Will, Elizabeth" he hesitated, thinking over his words, but finding no other way to put them, spoke as bluntly and succinctly as possible, and stood before his friends waiting for their reply.
Will's eyes were as wide as saucers as he looked at Elizabeth and then back to Jack. "You believe this? You think my father is alive?"
Jack shrugged. "I'd 'ate to say 'e is, but I can't say 'e isn't. Bootstrap Bill was always a stubborn fellow." The pirate grinned at the younger man. "A lot like another young William Turner I've gotten to know." The smile faded as he shrugged again. "All I know for certain is that Ol' Joe wouldn'ta made that up. Bill was there to see 'im and to pick upsomething 'esomething Joe was 'oldin' onto. Bill was there
Elizabeth interrupted impatiently. "Why are we even debating this? If there's the slightest chance Will's father is alive"
Will remained silent, and, though Jack answered Elizabeth, his own eyes never strayed from the lad's as though he sought some hint of the turnings of Turner's mind.
"You don't know what you're saying, lass. I'll need to 'ear it from 'im before I set course."
Elizabeth drew herself up and her eyes blazed in indignation. "If you're implying that I am in some way ignorant"
With a wave and a flourish and a dramatic roll of his eyes, Jack cut off her words. Staring at the girl as though he wondered how she'd gotten aboard his ship to begin with, he spoke loudly. "I'm not implyin' I'm sayin' it straight out, love." When she would have interrupted him in return, he held up a hand staying her words. "'Ear me out! It ain't ignorance born of stupidity but ignorance born of" he rolled his eyes and looked heavenward as if the word he sought might be written in the sky. "wellof unfamiliarity. Face it, Love, you don't know what a search for a long presumed dead pirate might mean, now do you?" He put his arm around her shoulders and spoke in a low, soft tone as if confiding in her.
"Elizabeth, my sweet, a proper search could take monthsas we 'ave little to go on. I know only what Ol' Joe told me. Trying to trace Bootstrap's steps–a path gone cold years ago!–'twill beat best. If we're years looking for ol' Bootstrap"
Realization hit Elizabeth. "Then I might never know what happened to my father."
"Now you're getting' it!"
Jack smiled triumphantly and stepped back from Elizabeth. She stared at nothing, her eyes fixed on something in her thoughts. Shaking her head she turned towards the captain and gripped his arms tightly enough to draw his attention to her grip. "If we did it the other wayif we went to Port Royal first, how long a delay in the search would there be?"
Jack smiled. "There's no way of knowin' that, love. If we get there and your father's well and Port Royal is only half as torn apart as we assumed, I imagine I could set sail again almost immediately. If Governor Swann is missingwell, then, you tell me. 'ow long do we look for one father before we abandon the search in favor of another? That aside, 'ow long could me and me crew stay near Port Royal and assume we wouldn't find our necks in imminent danger of being stretched?"
**
Elizabeth didn't answer Jack's question. She knew he didn't expect one, and she was much too concerned for Will to go through the trouble of keeping up the conversation. She could see the myriad warring emotions in Will's eyes as he grappled to come to terms with this most astonishing of suppositions. Hope, fear, anxiety, love for a man he had never met, trepidation that such a meeting might dash his hopes if William Turner, Sr. was not the sort of man Will could respectshe hated seeing him so unsure.
Elizabeth felt overwhelmed by the choice before them. To abandon any chance of learning her father's fate, to abandon any chance of seeing him again, for, if he had been hurt in Killian's raid, he might even now be dying if he were not already dead She cut the thought short and schooled her features carefully in case Will might be looking at her. She risked a glance at him, but he seemed entranced by something on the deck of the Pearl.
She turned to Jack. "Can you find Bootstrap if we search for him now?"
Jack shrugged his shoulders. "I can't say. According to Ol' Joe, it was five long years ago that Bill came to see 'im. A child born in that selfsame year would now be walkin' and talkin'. A dog born in that selfsame year would be older than Will here by a long shot in dog yearsand a scotch born in that selfsame yearmight not yet be fit to drink, so that would be a bad example. Still, it's a long time as things of that sort go" Jack trailed off and looked at Will, all hint of instability and capriciousness evaporating in the blink of an eye. "What do you say, mate? Do we go and look for your old dad?"
Will looked up sharply at those words. "My old dad?" He rolled the words around on his tongue as though it felt odd to be saying them. "II don't know"
Jack sighed. "Whatever you decide, mate, that isif you choose to go to Port Royal, I'll take you there, sure enough, butI'll be off soon after to find 'im. I owe 'im that much. I'll send word to you. I promise. I may not be able to come to you myself, but I'll get word, somehow, to Port Royal."
Port Royal. The name conjured for Elizabeth images bright with color and alive with laughteruntil she remembered the smoldering ruin it had seemed when last she had last seen it. Her father, Norrington, her neighbors and friends, people with whom she had grown from a small childwhat had become of them?
Her doubts were mirrored in Will's eyes as he looked to her, and shoved aside his own desire to search for his father. She saw him square his shoulders and draw himself up as he turned to Jack. "Port Royal, Jack. Take us home." She opened her mouth to protest, but Will turned to her then in that moment and she saw that he did not have the strength to argue.
Hardly able to look either Elizabeth or Jack in the eye, Will pleaded fatigue and retired to his bed, or rather, to Jack's bed, for the Pirate captain would not allow Will to sleep upon hammock or deck until he was sure his friend was recovered.
Elizabeth was grateful for that as she was grateful to Will for putting her own father before his, her own desires to see what had been done to her home above his lifelong desire to find answers about the man who had sired him.
When he'd gone, Elizabeth stared at the water, her thoughts as dark as the ocean floor at its deepest depths.
Will Turner was recovering and for that she was overjoyed. Even Jack was astonished at his rapid improvement, and, while Will tired more quickly than he once had, his malady was truly the withdrawal from the drugs Killian had given him on the long voyage to Scratch.
In truth, Elizabeth was certain that Will was keeping the worst of it from her. They had not been long out of port, but he seemed reluctant to speak to her. He seemed also to tell her he was just fine' whenever she asked, though she was sure his fatigue and short-temper were direct results of his withdrawal.
She'd been surprised at Jack's haste to leave port, but not at his kindness in taking Trilby aboard. The older man had been afraid to stay behind even though Jack had assured him that Killian must, in fact, be dead. Trilby had pleaded for a spot aboard the Pearl, and, thought Jack had made a great show of mulling it over and considering the pros and cons, she had known by the twinkle in his eye that he would agree.
She shuddered, a chill racing up her spine though the Caribbean air was warm. Trilby's concern that Killian would return from the grave to exact some sort of retribution upon him for his part in Will's escape had given her pause. If Killian had any cause to seek retribution, she knew there would be quite a few names upon his list well before Trilby's made an appearance. The thought of all that Will had been through troubled her, but it was the decision Jack had laid before them that worried her most.
She had watched Will's face as Jack explained that Bootstrap Bill might still be alive. That his father might have survived had never occurred to Will. That, at least, was plain from the look in his eyes. She knew that the assumption of his death at the bottom of the ocean strapped to a cannon had haunted him in dream and in thought. He would not tell her, but she knew some part of him felt responsible for that death. To think now that it was possible he had not met such an endshe had seen the hope in his eyes, and the leap of his heart at the very concept. She had noted a yearning in his eyes, and, she assumed, deep in his soul that he himself likely had not known he possessed until the possibility appeared.
Will would never put his own desires above hers. Even when it might have seemed to himself that he had when he'd sought help from an incarcerated pirate to locate a missing Governor's daughter, it had still been more in her own best interests than in his. He had walked away from his life, his trade, and had even jeopardized his good name and what hard-won respect he had earned by associating with criminals and helping Jack steal a ship.
Will could easily, had Norrington or her father been so inclined, have lost his life, been hung by Jack's side, or been forced to join the crew of the Pearl in a life of piracy in order to avoid a lengthy prison stay for his troubles.
Will was the sort who would always chose to do for others over himself, and while she loved him for it, she also found it impossible to give in to it in this instance.
Determination flooded Elizabeth as she pressed her lips into a hard, grim line. Whirling around, she faced the wheel where Jack stood, steering his ship with a nonchalance about him that belied the life and death decisions he seemed forced to make every day.
Walking over to him, she put into her voice all the insistencesome might say haughtinessof a Governor's Daughter accustomed to having her every wish become a command. "Jack Sparrow"
"Captain Jack Sparrow" He insisted automatically.
Elizabeth brushed away the words. "I know what Will said. I know he asked you to take us home, but" She hesitated and that hesitation irritated her more than anything Jack might have said. Shaking away her doubts, she spoke again. This time, however, she spoke with more confidence and regal bearing. "I want you to find Bootstrap Bill. Whatever it takes, whatever happens, Will needs to find his fatheror at least know for certain if he is alive or not." She watched Jack, but the pirate was still looking out towards the horizon. "Well?" She prompted.
"Well what?"
"We need to go after Will's father! Turn this boat around."
"Ship."
"What?"
"Ship. The Black Pearl is a ship not a boat. I'll thank you to remember that." He shrugged and one hand seemed to trace figure eights in the air for no discernible reason. "'Course, you can't even remember that I'm the Captain, so I don't suppose you'll remember that."
"Jack Sparrow! I'll have you know I grew up with close ties to the Royal Navy! I know more than you think about boats!"
"Ah! See thereforgot both again, didn't ye? It's Captain Jack Sparrow, and this is a ship!" He shook his head as though secretly bemoaning her stupidity.
"Jack!"
He smiled at her putting his hand down and looking her disconcertingly in the eye. "It might be best for both of you to go 'ome for a bit. He's still recovering, and youwell, you're a bit worse for wear, aren't you, girl?" He waved absentmindedly in the direction they were sailing. "Besides, we've only got rumor and pirate gossip to tell us what 'appened in Port Royal after you were taken by thatpirate." He'd seemed about to say something else but looked pointedly at Elizabeth. This was a lady after all. A Governor's daughter, not a pirate's bed warmer.
Elizabeth crossed her arms in front of her and glared at him. "All right, Captain Jack Sparrow!" She spat his chosen title at him. "Turn this ship around and go after Bootstrap Bill. Now!"
"You don't know what you're askin'. Will understood. That's why he said to take you to Port Royal."
"I understand more than you think! I am certainly not addle-minded enough to misunderstand it once it's been explained!" She glared at him infuriated when it only seemed to bring a smile to his lips. "Find Bill Turner. I don't care how and I don't care how long it takes! Turn this bloody contraption around and follow your five-year-old clue until you find one quite a bit younger! Do you hear me, Jack Sparrow?"
Jack, still smiling, shook his head, but not, as she assumed, in negation of her request. "Captain Jack Sparrow, love. Try to remember that." He turned to Gibbs who stood slightly above and to the left of them. "Gibbs! Turn 'er about! We're off on a search!"
Gibbs didn't even bat an eye, seemingly expecting such a change in orders. "Aye, Cap'n."
Jack grinned at Elizabeth. "I'm only doin' as you ask, because it's the course I'd have chosen myself."
Elizabeth smiled back. "Of course, Captain."
**
The waves pounded the shoreline, but, though rougher than normal, the sea was not yet angry enough to cause any real damage.
A man sat on the beach tossing stones into the sea wondering if the approaching storm might simply toss them back to dry in the sand once Poseidon calmed and called the waters back. He was too seasoned a seaman to ignore the early signs of approaching weather.
The weather had chased him and the small pirate ship on which he served to seek the relative shelter of this pitiful port. He'd seen it before, he knew, for it seemed vaguely familiar. Then again, all pirate-friendly ports looked much the same.
The wind whipped up a bit, tossing his long brown hair around his face. He'd need to find shelter himself in an hour or so, but for now, his depression at not finding what he sought kept his limbs still though his mind urged them to rise and walk to the bar. A bit of rum wouldn't go amiss, but somehow he couldn't face it.
His search had proved fruitless. He'd thought himself hot on the trail. When he'd started looking for his friend all those years ago, he'd assumed it would be just a matter of time. Years, it had taken him, but he finally found himself seriously considering that his friend was long dead, no matter what the rumors claimed. No, he was dead and perhaps forgotten. Maybe not even buried properly. He wasn't a religious man, but he held some thoughts sacred, and that was that a man deserved a decent burial, whether at sea or elsewhere, a man's bones shouldn't just lie where they fell to be bleached by the harsh sun.
He shuddered at the thought, but there was little he could do that he hadn't done already. It seemed he was doomed not to be there for those he most cared for. His own family was likely dead now, for he'd heard nary a word from his wife and child for years. He'd heard the Influenza had hit his hometown hard a few years back. His child might well be dead from it. Even with what little money he could send home, he knew his wife could not afford more than squalor.
Salt spray hit his face. The sea was telling him things his brain would not admit. It was time to seek shelter. He rose slowly, slightly cramped from the overlong time in one position, and headed back to the little town, such as it was. The town was so poor it made Tortuga look like London. Shelters–for house' was too fine a word for such structures–seemed unlikely to hold back the wind and rain he knew was coming. A few in particular seemed to be leaning on each other for support like pirates leaving a bar in the early hours of the morning.
He didn't bother greeting even those few passers-by that he knew. He'd given up on forming friendships, even with his shipmates. He didn't want any more friends.
Walking into the bar, whose name seemed to have something to do with pigs, though the sign was mostly obscured by age and neglect, he sat down and ordered rum. Tossing it all back in one swallow as soon as the barman placed it before him gesturing for a refill a moment later.
Blinking in surprise, the barman poured another at the man's gesture.
"Aye, it's good to have a bit of the spirits when a storm approaches. This one looks bad." The barman eyed his new customer not finding him at all familiar. "Did you come ashore with the Brazen Lady?"
The man nodded, but offered nothing else.
The barman moved off to serve other customers, and the man found himself staring into his glass wondering how he'd managed to lose his family, his best friend, and his hope in so short a period of time.
**
Captain Jack Sparrow watched the sunrise on the far horizon. The play of colors and growing glow of light in the nearly cloudless sky was breathtaking, and the reflection of the sun in the mirror of the sea was doubly so. Jack couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such a sight. He didn't often have the time to enjoy such things. He was usually running for his life or for someone else's.
He was as happy as could be that Elizabeth had been determined enough, for Will's sake, to search for the senior Turner. He hadn't been lying when he'd said that was the course he'd have chosen himself. Truth was, he wasn't in any hurry to get back to Port Royal. He wasn't sure what sort of reception he'd have there, but he wasn't willing to assume they'd simply let him approach merely because he had the Governor's daughter and the town blacksmith aboard. It was just as likely they'd accuse him of something. Stealing, pillagingand sure he wouldn't be above taking what he could for the benefit of his crew and the upkeep of his ship, but he'd just as soon not cross Norrington's path again. The man seemed determined to see Captain Jack Sparrow hang, and that, in Jack's mind, far outweighed any reasons in favor of visiting the Jamaican port.
Thinking of Port Royal led him once more to think of Will Turner. The lad had embraced piracy when necessary, and, though Jack was certain his father's blood was strong in him, the pirate couldn't help but wonder if he had too much moral fiber to follow in Bootstrap's footsteps. Of course, Bootstrap, in the beginning hadn't been a willing pirate. He'd joined a pirate crew out of necessity rather than choice, though some, like young Will, might argue that there was always a choice.
Jack smiled. Of course, if that were so, then Will chose to be a pirate when he first broke Jack out of Port Royal's prison and helped him to commandeer a vessel capable of going after Barbossa and the Black Pearl.
The first of the sun's rays reached tenuously into the sky obscuring the light of thousands of stars as they receded from view. Even as one part of Jack's mind registered the change, another part had plunged deep into memories he'd long left alone.
Choices. It all came down to choices. Will chose, even if only for a short time, to be a pirate just as his father had made a clear choice all those years agothough, the choice had been piracy or starvation. Jack knew few things that could persuade a man to sidestep his own convictions like said man's own imminent demise.
He hadn't thought about any of this in years. He wondered if it was because he'd looked up Ol' Joe and talked with him, however briefly, about Nick and Bill, or because the idea that Bill might yet be alive drove his memories to the surface of a mind already crowded with too much to consider.
Whatever the reason, he found it impossible to stop thinking such thoughts. Though he stared straight ahead and steered the Pearl, it was instinct that kept her steady as her captain's eyes were focused not on the gentle current before him, but on the years and the decisions behind him.
"Are ye daft, William Turner!" The older man looked down at the younger, barely aware that a third man, hardly more than a boy, stood nearby watching everything but saying nothing.
William Turner looked slightly to the left of the older man to lock eyes with his long time friend, Jack Sparrow. The boy only shrugged not intending to get into this argument. Nick and William argued like this every few days.
Jack watched his two friends. William was a good deal older than he was though none of them was certain of his exact age. The nearest the threesome could put it was mid- to late twenties, and Nick, the oldest of the trio as near as they could determine, was within a year or two of that figure himself. They'd met courtesy of Killian and had long been pirates together.
Nick was furious with William now because it seemed he was once again considering the impossible.
"Bootstrap Bill Turner," Nick spoke slowly and carefully infusing each word with intensity and menace. "You're a pirate, mate, and ye can't go back on a life like that."
William shook his head. "I've got to. Don't you see? I admit to the wrongdoingthe piracyand that this way of life seemed to bring me alive when I first took to it, but I can't say I agree with the way Killian runs 'is fleet! The longer we're out with 'im the bloodier the raids get. That last ship," he looked Nick in the eye, willing the man to understand. "The Commodore sunk it because she didn't carry as much as 'e expected!"
Nick nodded, and Jack could tell William's words made an impact. The three of them had spoken before about Killian's penchant for blood and his seeming unquenchable thirst for mayhem, murder, and mutilation. No longer willing to sit out the argument, Jack spoke in a soft tone that seemed even more arresting than usual because of his stillness. "What would you do, William? Would you go 'ome? Do you think you can put it all behind you?" Now he moved, approaching his friend, his eyes locked on William Turner's. "Can you live on land and forsake the sea?"
William stared at Jack and Jack held his breath. He knew what William meant. He had a wife and a son somewhere in England, and, as the years went on, Jack could see the regret in William's eyes that he wasn't there for his son. He'd been a pirate for many a year when he'd met the lass that was to bear his child. Jack was never certain if William had told the girl he was a pirate, but he somehow doubted it.
Jack had assumed it was just another girl, but William seemed to talk about her a great deal, and had even sent letters home with money when he could, and occasionally a present or two for the lad who had to be all of three years old by now.
William's own father had been a merchant seaman, and had never been home. William had told him once, when they'd both had too much to drink, that he'd always imagined he'd be a better father. Jack suspected William Turner wanted to go back to her–to them–but that Bootstrap Bill Turner wouldn't allow it. It was the siren song of the sea versus the longtime wish to have a traditional family life.
Jack saw the war his friend waged with himself, and he wasn't sure what choice he would now make. He did know that if William chose family over piracy, Jack would do all he could to help the man find his way back home to England if it meant handing over his own share of the profits until there was enough money for the trip.
William stood then, drawing himself up to his full height, which was not inconsiderable. Then, almost imperceptibly, his shoulders bent as though bearing an unbearable weight.
Jack knew then what choice his friend would make.
Thinking back, Jack supposed that things would have turned out drastically different had Killian not tried to steal William's life with his bizarre ritual. The Commodore's plans had interrupted William's own, and William's recovery had been fraught with its own perils andinterruptions.
In some ways, the older Turner had fared better than the younger, and in some ways the reverse was true. Will's improvement had been slower, but now he knew that was less the drug and more that the ritual had never started for William, while Will had had a good bit of his life drained by the thing.
Jack cursed himself for his stupidity. Thinking he'd defeated Killian when he'd only delayed himno, he had to go back further than that. His stupidity had been in believing his path would never cross Killian's again. He should have killed the Commodore. Of course, how was he to know for certain that shooting him wouldn't kill him? Why then hadn't he made certain the Commodore was dead?
He sighed. He could chase these questions and doubts around in his mind until he died and he would likely be no closer to an answer.
There was no point in this. He had done what he'd done. He hadn't done what he hadn't done. Nothing could change that. The only answers he had to find now were to a different set of questions.
Why had he not run into William Turner, Senior once in the years since Barbossa had left him marooned? He puzzled over that one the most. Bootstrap Bill Turner had gotten it in his head to find Jack Sparrow. Why then had he not heard tell of it? Why had no one mentioned to him that someone was asking about him? For that matter, if anyone he knew in Tortuga or any of the other ports he frequented had seen Bootstrap, they'd have told him.
Jack's eyes glanced up at the bright circle of the low-hanging moon. "Where are you, William? What's 'appened to you?"
To Be Continued
ErinRua: Thanks! I'm blushing and beaming from your kind words! Yes, this is indeed going off on another tangentone I never envisioned before I started writing, but one that my muses seem intent to having me explore! I'm enjoying the ride as well and I'm happy to hear that you are, too!
AliciA: I'm glad you liked Jack's protectiveness. It seemed right when I wrote it. How can there be more? I asked my muses that same question. Twice now I thought I was finished, but they wouldn't let me stop! It's fun, actually, and I'm glad some of my readers are sticking around for the long haul!
LordLanceahlot: Edge of your seat! Yeaaay! I was hoping someone would say that! I'm always a little leery of writing any swashbuckling because I'm afraid I won't do justice to the action, so it's a thrill to find out that it did work!
Rachel the Insane Unicorn: Wow! High praise indeed. No, I don't think Disney would like that either, but hearing those words was enough to make me the happiest writer on fanfiction.net! Thanks!
Catherinexxix: Thanks for the review! It's quite a compliment! I'm glad the charactersseemed themselves! Hee! I hope I didn't keep you waiting for too long!
Unplugged32: I love it when readers quote back at me! Thanks! I'm glad you liked those lines. That really practically wrote itself.
Steff: LOL! I hope this answers that question, but probably notI'll get back to work on that!