Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. But that doesn't stop me from loving it!

If you want to know why this took so bloody long, think school. Which I love.

Language here.

Chapter 4

Will looked around the ship. There was no denying the beauty of a sunrise at sea. But it would be better if he had wanted this. Better if Elizabeth was at his side, instead of a giant of a man called Little John. On Will's other side was Joshua Clark, the other man pressed with him. He remembered the conversation the two had before the curfew was called.

"You're a sword fighter" Josh, as he insisted on being called, asked.

"Yes. I've trained for a long time, ever since I was apprenticed to a blacksmith."

"Are you the same Will Turner as in the stories?" So much for casually touching the subject.

"Depends. You may be thinking of my father, Bill."

"Ha! So you are the Turner bloke involved with that pirate, what was his name? Swallow, or pigeon…?"

"Sparrow. Jack Sparrow." Josh grinned. Will was rather confused by this. (Insert Orlando Bloom with sweet, confused look)

"We have something in common. I happen to know Mister Sparrow. I had to test you first."

"Why?" Josh simply shrugged.

"Many men lie about their identities to gain free drinks at the bar. I've known plenty of lads pretending to be Turner with the hopes of ale." The two continued talking for a while, until a midshipman began organizing the men into bunks. Will remembered what he had wanted to ask.

"Are you a swordfighter, or was that a bluff?"

"'Course I'm a trainer. I'm just used to fencing. Thought they'd give me up when I'd lose to you. But now I see that you might have beaten me fairly had we fought. It would be interesting though."

"Why?"

"I've never crossed swords with another pirate before."

For a while Will had wondered at the meaning of his words, but he was distracted now. Little John was to teach him and Josh in the ways of the ship. They would be given positions and taught to fight with bayonets and muskets. They would be drilled in firing cannons. The had to learn the Articles of War, and memorize them. By the end of the week they were to be perfect sailors.

Will managed to pick things up much faster than the other men. Sailing was in his blood. He couldn't help it. The only other two pressed that were having any progress was Gregory Fredrick and Josh.

Gregory was once a mate on a merchant vessel, but had given up sailing after privateer ship from London mistook their ship for a French one. The incident had cost him his brother, and he never desired to go to sea. Until he and Benjamin Seymour had gone for a night on the town, ending in their being taken to the Dragonfly.

The other man brought with their group had belonged to the gang, and was greatly scorned by the nine captives. He was Roger, and had managed to become an assistant chef. This position saved him from the angry sailors, who would have their rations cut if anything foul happened to cooks.

In the mess hall Ben and Gregory sat down next to Will and Josh. It was obvious these two were already close friends.

"It's a shame that they can do this to proper citizens. I have a good job and a lass on the land," Gregory complained. Ben rolled his eyes, having to put up with his counterpart for a good twelve hours of bickering. By appearance the two were polar opposites. Ben was rather tall with broad shoulders where Greg was slight and even wiry. It also seemed that, along with a short temper, Gregory was the smarter of the pair.

"They should simply take the bums off the street. Then there would be less beggars on the street, and the men would get decent jobs and fed everyday and paid. The latter of those are the only reason I ain't deserting right 'bout now." At that moment, Roger was unfortunate enough to pass the angry man.

"You! Why don't those gangs of yours take the needy, the ones that could use the food?" The man shrank under Greg's angry eyes, but he held his ground.

"We used to take the bums, but they grouped together and would throw one helluva fight. So we took the drunks lying about. Or the injured," Roger added, rubbing his head where Josh had hit him. While he glowered Josh simply smiled as if it were a compliment. Greg wasn't so merry.

"Turner and Clark didn't look too drunk. And I was quite sober myself. I was helping Benny home when you bastards grabbed us." Will watched as tempers flared, but each side backed down. Greg wouldn't risk loosing the rations for the whole crew, and Roger didn't want to have the whole crew attack him. But Gregory made the mistake of letting one more comment slip.

"Are you part dog? Because your mother must have been a bitch." Roger lost it, and there was an all out brawl in seconds. Josh motioned to Will for them to get out of the action. Anyone with so much as one bruise or a single drop of blood on their uniform would be severely punished. They managed to make it out moments before Captain Moyer himself entered the hall and began yelling. One or two other crew members that had gotten out were gathered around the doorways, trying to hear the captain's punishments.

Will and Josh headed to the deck to report to their watch when two small boys appeared in front of them. They appeared to be around eleven, and their clothes were little more than rags. Ship's boys. One had curly black hair and deep blue eyes while the other had fair red hair and green eyes. Both were looking at their bare feet, shuffling nervously.

"Are you the swordfighters?" the redhead asked, is voice still high. The men just stared, unsure of what was going on.

"It is you twos, right? We, um, want to, um, see you fight," the one with black hair said, his face growing redder by the second. Josh and Will exchanged a glance, and Josh shrugged.

"Why not, there is supposed to be sword training anyway."

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