Well from the results of the first chapter everyone likes it so far. Okay only 5 people said so, but that's good enough for me. Someone asked me quite bluntly not to pass Tristan's four years in Port Royal so I won't.

Chapter 2: The Cost of Growing Up

Those 4 years in Port Royal were ones I strongly remember. Well it was hard not to with my father always telling me stories about me. He said I was rather fussy, but whenever he was around I was all smiles and giggles. At that point in my life I would never had thought my father was a notorious pirate that did everything in his power to make people miserable. But later on in life that fact would ruin everything we worked so hard to build between father and daughter.

When I turned 1 I was finally introduced to solid food. It was a struggle each morning just to get me to eat from the spoon. Will and Elizabeth's two children, Joseph and Lillian, however were always eager to help when the grown ups were too exhausted to try one more spoon. Eventually after a lot of trial and error I finally took a spoonful without fuss from my daddy and was soon eating cereal and oatmeal on my own much to everyone's relief.

Also around that age my father thought that it was time he earned his keep and he managed a job with a fish merchant down by the port. Aunt Elizabeth (as I called her as well as Will uncle as soon as I could talk.) brought me down each night to pick him up and walk him home for dinner. He would smell like fish and sweat, but after he cleaned up he would take every opportunity to play with me.

Around the age of two I began to notice my father suffering from constantly changing emotions. Around me he was truly caring and would do anything to make sure life was good for me, but behind a closed door he and Uncle Will would argue over quite a few things. But if he managed to awake me from a nap he was the first to come to me and apologize for making such a ruckus.

I never did find out what it was he was so upset about, because when I was awake and listened through the door all I could hear was muffled shouting. But each time the voices would increase in volume Aunt Elizabeth would interfere and twice I saw her open the door, walk up to my father, and slap him across the face.

"Don't you dare make such a fuss in my house Jack," she cried one afternoon. "We gave you room and board out of the good of our hearts and because we care about the welfare of your daughter. If you cared even as much you wouldn't be in here yelling at Will over the fact that there isn't any bloody rum in the house!"

My father got a shocked look on his face and finally noticed me in the open doorway. Instantly he fell to his knees and began to sob. Now seeing a pirate cry can be a rather strange site indeed, because it is such a rare occurrence. But to me all I saw was my father sitting upon the floor in a fit of pain. I soon realized I had been crying too and moved slowly into the room and stood before him. "Daddy…?"

He looked up at me, his eyes red and puffy. Reaching out a trembling hand he stroked a bit of my hair before pulling me into his arms. "I'm sorry my little seashell" (that was what he called me).

After that the fights became less and less violent. I could see my father was slowly beginning to change before my eyes. He was being more polite and his clothes changed slightly, but lucky for me not to drastically.

When I turned 3 Uncle Will started taking me and his children over to the blacksmith shop to learn how to build and fight with swords. I trained with a wooden one, so as not to get hurt, until I was skilled enough to work with steel. Uncle Will had made one especially for me. It was a nice, light weight sword. I could parry, thrust, swing, and dodge way before my 4th birthday. Uncle Will says it was because of my pirate blood, whatever that meant.

I practiced with my sword for three hours a day then would try and challenge my father to a friendly duel, but lately he had been working extremely hard for the merchant and came home ready to crawl into bed. Plus he told me he wanted a fair fight when I was more grown up. I told him it was a deal.

For a four year old I was so well trained in swordplay I managed to beat Joseph in a match. I had dodged his thrust and kicked his legs out from under him leaving him on the floor with my sword at his throat. I told him I wouldn't spread it around that he got beat up by a four year old girl if he used some of his extra allowance to get me a new hair ribbon. He agreed and even though his friends giggled and teased as we went into the store I kept my mouth shut.

Now that I was old enough Father was very eager to go back to his ship, which would be coming back into port within the week. Using the money he had saved up he bought plenty of supplies, clothes for me, and anything else needed to keep me occupied on board. The only problem was I didn't want to leave. I didn't want to leave Lillian and Joseph; my best friends. Also Aunt Elizabeth and Uncle Will, it would be hard to leave them behind as well.

On top of that Lillian told me the other day about her first day of school. She said there were lots of other children there to play with, the teachers are all very nice; except the history teacher, who strongly voiced there would be no talk of pirates in his class, and that every day at noon they would have lunch outside if it was a nice day out. I could imagine all this and was eager to give it a try when I was old enough to go. But I had a feeling it wouldn't work out. Father was focused on taking me along with him on the Black Pearl, probably with no intent on coming back.

Finally one evening I got up the courage and slipped into his room. He was sitting at his desk playing with this weird compass of his that never pointed north for some reason. "Daddy…?"

He looked up at me and smiled. "What is it my little seashell?"

"Daddy, do I have to go back on the ship with you?"

With a look of utter surprise he stood up from his chair and came to kneel before me. "Tristan, are you telling me you don't want to come back on the Black Pearl with me and be by my side as Father and daughter?"

I started tearing up meaning I was upset. It's improper for a lady to cry as often as I do, but I found it was something I couldn't control. "It's not that I don't want to," I blurted out. "It's just that I was hoping to go to school like Lillian and someday Joseph. Daddy, Lillian told me she had so much fun at school and I want to go too."

For a long time he just remained there muttering to himself. All I could make out was "Port Royal" and "brainwashed" from the mix of words. "Daddy, I…didn't mean to make you upset-"

"Go back to bed Tristan and we'll talk about this later. I have a lot to think about."

I had upset him. Deep down inside I knew he was angry with me, but as long as I stood there he wouldn't show it, so I stood there as large tears rolled down my cheeks leaving small puddles upon the hard wood floor.

He gazed over at me one more time and demanded I go back to bed. What I did next would probably be written down in the book of insults for years to come. "YOU'RE NO FATHER OF MINE! YOU'RE NOTHING BUT A BLOODY PIRATE!" And before he could say anything I ran from the room right into Aunt Elizabeth's waiting arms.

OOOHHH! Tension is in the air. Will there be compromise or will a 4 year bond be broken? Tune in next time.