The town of Dennot had never been a prominent mark on any maps.

It was possessed of a harbor, several stores, and a number of boarding houses.

Despite its small size, its location in relation to Kent County and Sheerness made it a likely place for travelers.

The majority of its population simply passed through from one time or another... and nothing extraordinary ever happened there.

Until they arrived...

When Dominica tied up at the local docks, not many took a good look at her. Merchant ships were common enough in this little town, and they often toted along passengers for an extra fee. Certainly no one really noticed a rather grimy-looking Elizabeth Swann taking her first cautious steps off the vessel and instantly flailing around as the world tilted merrily abound her head.

Jack deftly grabbed her arm. "Careful, dear. You'll walk into something."

"I'd forgotten about that," she muttered, blinking rapidly in an attempt to straighten things out. "It wasn't so bad when I was a little girl..." How long now, since she'd disembarked from that ocean voyage? Nine years?

"Before you started spending your time embroidering and reading and practicing fine penmanship?" Jack escorted her down the dock, somehow manhandling their meager luggage at the same time. Oh, if only you knew, Captain Sparrow. He weaved back and forth ever so slightly, but she'd seen far worse from him. "Idle life does not lead to quick recoveries. You'll do all right soon enough. You simply need to walk it off."

The walking it off consisted mostly of the pair of them tottering away from Dominica, though Elizabeth glanced over her shoulder more than once to watch the ship growing smaller in the distance. How many times had she thought about tossing it all away and running off on a ship? Granted, not a fat little merchantman like Dominica - a vessel like Black Pearl or even Wickedry would do. But here she was now, far from home, on the arm of a pirate... and with nothing to gain and nothing to lose.

Odd, how life turned out.

They stopped as they reached the town proper. Elizabeth realized she was still clinging to Jack's arm and made some effort to hold herself steady. "So this is... what did you say it was?"

"Dennot, not terribly far from Sheerness. Not much to it, but--"

He mentioned the name casually, but her grip tightened. "Isn't Sheerness host to a naval shipyard?"

He sent her a particularly dazzling smile. "You're quite the little cartographer, aren't you?"

"Jack! Are you mad?"

He smiled charmingly. "How many times do you intend to ask me that, Miss - my dear? Clearly if you haven't been able to establish an answer by now, something's terribly wrong in that pretty head of yours. Now come along, we must find ourselves lodging before it gets dark."

She trotted along beside him, dutifully aware of the terrible state of her clothing and hair. Jack, by contrast, looked bright and refreshed despite his own layer of grease - damn that man. "But Capt--ah, excuse me--why so close to Sheerness, if I may ask? Aren't you rather... well..."

"Popular?" Jack suggested. "Indeed I am. And what better place to hide than right under the enemy's nose?"

***

Madness, plain and simple. That's all it could be. What else could have prompted Jack Sparrow to cut off his hair, sail to England under the guise of a quest, and then waltz into the nearest boardinghouse and cheerfully request a room?

Elizabeth had never dreamed she would be staying in an establishment quite so seedy looking as Mr. Roland Fleming's would-be boarding house, and she had to swallow down her revulsion several times before managing to follow Jack inside. She would play the proper young wife if it killed her; she would look around and smile when spoken to and not draw any excess attention as dear Captain Sparrow doubtlessly would. Her father's lovely house in Port Royal had spoiled her rotten, and this became evident as she had to fight increasingly hard to keep a politely disinterested look on her face as Mr. Fleming discussed the renting out of rooms to Jack.

The landlord looked between the pair of them. "It'll be eight shillings, and I shall need your names."

Elizabeth opened her mouth to answer, then remembered this was Jack's duty. She had some coins tucked about her few belongings, but they would be used up swiftly enough. This was Jack's idea; certainly he would have prepared for it.

His mouth opened. And stayed that way while the landlord stared at them. "...what do you say to ten shillings - and we forget the names?"

***

After they were chased out, they sat at the docks in silence. "I can't believe we didn't think up a name."

***

Dragging her meager possessions all over Dennot wouldn't have been quite so irritating had Jack not decided to trek back and forth across the town before settling on one boarding house and marching in with his usual good humor. Elizabeth hung back while he introduced himself to a Mr. Quinton Cade, announcing his name as Jack Kendrick, here with me lovely young wife... certain family members took a bit o'distaste to our union, if you understand me. The last bit said with a wink, and Elizabeth managed not to roll her eyes.

Quinton Cade sized her up with a sly grin. "Runnin' away from yer father, lassie?"

"Yes," she said instantly. When Jack jabbed her lightly in the back, she smothered a cough. "He didn't like the looks of my husband," she explained, trying to rough up her accent a bit.

His small wife peered around his shoulder. "Why's he not like the looks? E'en I's don't mind the looks!"

"Mind your tongue, Constance."

Jack smiled winningly and, quite astonishingly, said absolutely nothing.

"The streets get a little loud at night. Sometimes we get the spilloffs from Sheerness if they get discharged. You'll want to keep your little lassie close at hand, I think." Mr. Cade pressed a key into Jack's hand. "How long do you think to be staying with us?"

"Oh, not very," he said breezily. "We're passing through while I tend to a few matters - accounts and the like, and I'd rather my lovely bride be here with me than at the mercy of her father." Jack turned to her, the very picture of sincerity. "What was it he called me, darling?"

"A pirate?" She asked sweetly. "A pirate - not to be confused with a good pirate, merely a pirate in the sense that--" Fortunately the Cades paid Jack no mind as he subtly jammed his elbow into her ribs.

"'E's no pirate," Mrs. Cade said. "Far too handsome!"

"Mind your tongue, Constance!"

"Pirates can be quite handsome..." Jack didn't wince when Elizabeth sank her fingernails into his jacket sleeve. "...I've been told."

***

"You're a bloody fool, Jack," she said as he opened the door.

"So I've been told, so I've been told. There now! Not terribly bad, is it? A mite small, certainly not captain's fare, but for fleeing landlubbers such as ourselves..." He surveyed the tiny room and the offshoot alcove that probably held the bed. "...it's not... too bad..."

Elizabeth looked around and said nothing. Jack took it upon himself to march around grandly, poking and prodding at the sticks that passed for furniture. "For example, it's better than anything in Tortuga! Except, perhaps, Leteita's place, but I won't tell you about that. Why the sad face, darling? Wasn't it you who complained of a boring life back on our island? Look! All your dreams have come to fruition!"

Elizabeth slipped past him and stared at the little niche that passed for the bedroom. She'd never lived in such close quarters in her life - even Barbossa's quarters on the Black Pearl had possessed the tattered elegance of finery and room to breathe.

In the main living area, Jack continued looking around. "At least there's a hearth of sorts... for what we're paying there better be... look, a potato..."

Well then - this was Jack's little adventure, after all. She could play this game too. And to start...

She hurled her belongings onto the bed. "Mine."

"Hold fast, why do you get the bed?"

"Because I'm the woman."

"Well, I'm the man, and I want the bed."

"It's mine. There's plenty of room on the floor, and a dashing pirate like you wouldn't want me to be upset, now would you?"

He tried again. "I'm the captain, and I command you to give me the bed."

She put her hands on her hips. "It's mine. Would you care to fight for it?"

"Perhaps we could... share it."

They both looked at the bed.

There would be no earthly way for both of them to fit on it, unless...

"In order for both of us to use that bed, it would require... entwining of limbs..." Elizabeth coughed politely into her hand. "Something I am not quite ready to attempt with you in these parts, Captain."

"I can be quite a gentleman when entwined, I'll have you know."

She pointed out the door, and much to her surprise, Jack grunted and trudged back into the main room. "You'd better at least leave me with blankets, woman. England gets bloody cold."

***

There was no real supper. Elizabeth hadn't needed to cook a proper meal in years, and Jack's idea of sustenance involved going outside and "politely, creatively" robbing one of the street vendors as they closed up shop. Instead, they feasted on the lone potato after rolling it around in the hearth for a time and retreated to their respective bedspaces relatively satiated, if not content.

Tomorrow... he has to go get something tomorrow, doesn't he? He's not just going to let us... starve... She had no idea how much money Jack had managed to cram into his various effects, but even pirates had to bloody eat. And if he wouldn't, well...

At least the Cades had provided bedding of a sort.

Now that she thought of it, hadn't Jack wanted a blanket?

Shivering in the cold, she took one of the blankets off the bed and tiptoed into the main room.

"Couldn't sleep, love?"

She gave a little shriek and leaped back as she saw him silhouetted in the window. He chuckled. "Didn't mean to startle you."

"I..." Give him the blanket and leave. "It's cold... I thought you'd... want another blanket." She held it out.

He came forward, accepted it. "Thank you."

"You should sleep. It's... dark." Well-done, Miss Swann.

"Aye. Soon enough."

As her eyes adjusted to the dark, she could almost make out the downturned features. "What are you looking at?"

"Just the town." He barely glanced back over his shoulder again, a dry chuckle rasping out of his throat. "Miserable little place we've come to, isn't it? I can't believe I allowed you to talk me into this."

"Oh, speak for yourself, you notorious rogue," she said, drawing her own blanket stiffly over her shoulders. "You and your... quest."

"You're the one who just had to go sailing with your damned commodore, you know. If you'd just stayed home as a proper lady ought, you would be safely dreaming of your blacksmith and I would not be forced to endure your shrillness for any great length of time, though I am starting to find you peculiarly endearing which doubtlessly means I'm losing what sense I have left. Kindly go to sleep, Miss Swann - Mrs. Kendrick - good-night."

"You make my head hurt," she muttered, trudging back to her little hole in the wall. The bed was hard and the blankets thin, but she'd made do before with far worse. It would last her until the morning.

In the morning... in the morning, she would take stock. In the morning, she would leave dear Captain Jack to his own devices and see what there was to be done in Dennot, and see about getting some food into her belly.

In the morning...

Will, what are you doing now? Are you home yet? Are you safe?

***

Noble Bay

The Caribbean

Will drew circles in the sand by the bones of the old ship and watched the rise and fall of the tide.

Beneath the new gloves on his hands, his flesh sported bite marks courtesy of his sire. He dared not call Bootstrap Bill his father; not yet. There was little of the man he remembered in the tortured dark eyes... little of any man. Sometimes it would flash just enough to give him hope: the warm spark, the slow but genuine smile. It always turned into the feral snarl, the heated gaze. The teeth.

I never thought a human being could bite that hard. He etched curling waves around one of the circles, then abruptly wiped it away as he realized what he drew. Elizabeth. I wish you were here.

Yet it was so much bloody easier without her presence. He didn't need to impress her, didn't need to be constantly on his guard. Playing nursemaid to his mad father might not have been the most enticing use of his blacksmith skills, but he was making a difference. His father... here to late to help him become a man.

"Where were you five years ago," he muttered to the sand. "Where were you when I needed a father?"

"Sailing the high seas in search of treasure," a voice behind him responded. "Or, if that was in reference to your father, sleeping with the fishes... rather literally."

Gerrarrd.

One of the pirate's boots paused next to him. "You stare out to sea long and often, lad. What's troubling you?"

"He's not getting better," he said.

"It takes roughly half the time of a duration to undo damage. In your father's case, four years should be sufficient. Your friend Sparrow said that."

Gerrarrd had been startlingly forthright in answering questions he had - so long as Will didn't try any escape hijinks. Sitting here on the beach, with the captain in a placid mood, he decided another question might be in order. "How do you know J... Captain Sparrow?"

After a moment's contemplation, Gerrarrd sat down beside him. "We sailed together."

There. A start! "Sailed where?"

"Wherever our captain ordered us, lad. He was a fine man... loved by the crew, respected by the officers; 'twas he who taught me what command should be." The pirate mulled over it a moment longer. "I suppose Jack learned something from him as well, though in practice he applied it rather badly when first setting out."

"The mutiny," Will said.

"That... yet he still does it now. With captaincy there is respect, but there must also be a certain amount of... fear." Gerrarrd breathed in the sea air, and a smile curved his thin mouth. "A crew may respect you to a point, but if they cannot fear you one way or another they will never respect you fully. And once that respect is gone... that leaves them free to act as they should not. Does that make a bit of sense?"

Will tried to sound earnest. "I suppose so." Jack Sparrow, ruling by fear? It didn't seem possible, much less probable. Still, who was to say he couldn't? "I don't understand something. Captain Sparrow is a fine swordsman, and a good shot. Why...?"

"Why didn't they respect him? Because they're pirates, lad, and pirates respect only after they've seen a bit of blood. Generally speaking." The captain stood up, extending a hand to help Will to his feet. "Let's go check on your father, shall we?"

***

Bill Turner crouched in his hellhole and knew no peace.

Bootstrap, I'm Bootstrap or am I not where is the man with the cape and the cap this man is not who he ought to be...

"Your son is here to see you, Bootstrap."

Son son I have a son yes his name is William isn't it I'm not sure I don't know anything anymore...

"Hello, Father. How are you today?"

William Little Bill there you are...

"Whaaaazzuuuurrrrrrr." It was his voice, but nothing that could be recognized as legible speech. Bootstrap knew this and tried to correct it. "Hrrrrrr..."

Sometimes words functioned as they should, but other times they did not. The look on his son's face confirmed that it did not work.

"He's making progress, we think. Perhaps you could start taking him on long walks."

Ephraim, that is Ephraim.

"What good will that do?"

"It will build up his strength, give him some air."

"He might bite me again."

"Part of the game, lad... it's all part of the game."

Ephraim Gerrarrd, yes I know you I know you well not a traitor yet but not enough loyalty to fill a shoe... I know what you are...

But for the life of him he could not remember what.

Historical notes: Around the time that this tale takes place, Sheerness would indeed have been host to a naval shipyard. I thought about placing the story directly in it, but opted against that... Dennot is a sort of 'everytown' - a mishmash of people and their occupations, some of whom are set firmly in the time period and some who are not. The movie itself had a sort of mucky time quality to it so I'm cashing in on that.

(Acacia: I have not forgotten about Will; his story will be told in a different manner. Rest assured that it WILL be told in graphic detail and living color when the time is right. There will be no shortage of Will in future installations, or anyone else for that matter. I hope this puts some minds at ease.

To clear up any other misconceptions, this is a story where Jack and Liz are primarily the main characters. I am focusing on them much more in Part I [which is what this is] because they are the catalysts, setting things into motion. If you have problems with this, it might not be the story for you. Thanks, come again.

At the moment I am tweaking the plot - basically trying to cut down on the projected length and tighten the story. Next part may be slow to come, but I do hope to have the entire thing done by March. Keep in mind that Silence is one of three... what have I gotten myself into?)