6.

Elizabeth looked around to properly take in the scene and the weight of the moment, knowing it would be her last on the Pearl. She was destined to wait for her husband once every ten years, protecting his heart, for the rest of her days. Her husband. Her own heart fluttered at the word.

After surpassing other crew members, her gaze rested on Jack and, following a riff off of their usual exchange, Elizabeth was left to find new words. Not having them, she leaned in close to embrace him.

"Once was quite enough," Jack teased, holding his hands up defensively to stop her, committing to the bit.

"Thank you."

Elizabeth played along, making her way to the boat drawn for her. She looked over her shoulder, although she told herself she shouldn't, and was glad to see Jack still watching. Elizabeth ran back, throwing her arms around Jack anyway and he momentarily lost his balance, his hands raised in surprise yet with that feigned sense of poise he always had about him. Jack stood frozen for a while but Elizabeth eventually felt his shoulders fall and then he fully melted, his arms circling her back. She felt tears welling in her eyes as Jack's body swayed slowly like a content ship. When Elizabeth vaguely heard a few suggestive comments from some crew members, she felt Jack pat her shoulder then clear his throat.

"Don't spoil it, love," he said just loud enough for her alone to hear.

Elizabeth pulled her lower lip into her mouth, knowing Jack wouldn't be one for goodbyes, then set her face into a controlled mask of an expression before stepping back, her arms feeling awkward at her sides. Empty.

"King." Jack saluted her with flourish.

Elizabeth felt her mouth tremble and the tears returned.

"Come now, belay that," Jack said in a low voice, resting his hand on her shoulder. Then, stronger, "That's an order."

"Of course," Elizabeth answered through a gasping breath. "Captain." The word was followed by a fleeting smile. She straightened her shoulders before walking to the boat. Elizabeth forced herself not to look back this time, or she was sure she would never leave Jack's side.

.

Elizabeth rubbed at her eyes as her mind pulled out of the memory, from rest. She smoothed a hand over her hair, feeling a small braid and one of Jack's beaded embellishments attached. She shook her hands through her hair. Two more braids, two more Captain Jack Sparrow talismans. Elizabeth absentmindedly played with the hair jewelry. She tried to fight off a smile, failing, remembering now—letting him braid her hair as she neared sleep the night before, but he adorned the braids in her sleep with elements so him, so Jack. Her heart quickened, wondering how her chest may have tightened and her breathing may have faltered if she were sober to fully take in his closeness, his gentleness.

Leaning up on her elbows, Elizabeth realized Jack must have carried her to bed last night. She looked to her right, the empty side of the bed registering in her mind. Had he slept beside her for a moment under the night sky? Or moved her before drifting off himself? She wasn't sure why it mattered to her.

Elizabeth was about to search for her night robe to put over her night gown but realized she slept in the clothes she wore to the market. She noticed a slip of parchment with neat, thoughtful penmanship on the bedside and reached for it instantly.

You change my look, I change yours. Took Will out for some air. Hope you don't mind.

Elizabeth's heart raced. She instantly checked under the bed, finding the chest which remained open, the key still inside the keyhole. She neglected to put Will's heart back after the market. Jack found Will's heart in the basket. Elizabeth felt guilt crawl over every inch of her and her arms crossed over her stomach. She felt sick. She held onto the bedside table as her head spun, drawing to an unsettling conclusion. It would be so much easier for Jack to ignore reconciling his past, forego another long journey, and simply stab the heart.

Elizabeth's strode to the backdoor, swinging it open. Her eyes zeroed in on Jack.

"Ah, and there she is, our drunken beauty. Just having a heart to heart between men, Elizabeth, I'm sure you understand—"

Elizabeth grabbed the jar from Jack before heaving forward her free arm, putting all of her fear into the hit.

"Don't you ever take him without asking first—Ever!" Elizabeth shouted, feeling herself shake uncontrollably as she held the jar close to her. Jack took Elizabeth by the shoulders and met her eyes with his own, large and searching. "Jack," she whispered, coming down, however, she could still feel her heart pounding against her chest. Sighing, Elizabeth placed the jar at their feet and then rested her hand against the side of his face. "I'm sorry, but you scared me." Elizabeth's lip drew into her mouth and, still shaking, she pulled Jack down onto the grass then into her. "My mind went to the worst place. I know you wouldn't cross Will, but please don't—not again—I don't think I can…"

"All forgiven, love," Jack assured her, removing her hands from cradling him in close. "I overstepped. I should have asked."

"Even so, I shouldn't have hurt you. I let my own ambition overcome me. I lost all composure." Elizabeth swallowed, remembering chaining Jack to the Pearl all that time ago.

"A true pirate."

She cradled Will's heart to her chest, resting her cheek against the jar, the same sentence on loop in her mind. I got you. "I can't imagine what I would do if someone really stole him."

"That's what I was solving. Look." Jack held up a burlap sack that was usually used for gardening, small enough to tie at the waist. "We can't go lugging Will around in Davy Jones's old chest or that jar for that matter. This way you can keep Will close, fashioned on a belt." At her silence, he offered, "Nothing you couldn't have done—just trying to stay one step ahead is all."

"As always." Elizabeth took Jack's hand, squeezing, recalling the gardening book he was reading the evening before. "Thank you," she said, offering her whole heart in those two words as she had during their goodbye on the Pearl.

"Don't mention it." Jack straightened his shirt front then met her eyes, his mouth drawn drawing down nearly comically. "Really, don't. I can't take much more sentimental talk. Now, not that I don't trust your swordsmanship, and based off the other night I know you've been practicing, but another refresher with a moving target couldn't hurt."

Having slept in so late, Elizabeth spent the better part of the day practicing her swordsmanship with Jack. He showed her skillful methods of attack but mostly how to defend enough to hold her own for a quick exit. She studied his footwork, his lithe frame, and how quick he was with the blade, able to counter an attack and move out of reach before she could even process the strike.

After the sword lessons, the only thing left to prepare was themselves.

Elizabeth fashioned her hair elaborately. She realized it hadn't looked this nice since her interrupted wedding day. She added color to her lips and cheeks, used vanilla perfume on her decollate, and pulled on cream gloves that ended above her elbows. She secured Will's heart hidden in the burlap sack around her waist, secluding it with a bow. She hoped they were doing the right thing for Will, that they would free him instead of bring him an untimely true death. She would ensure Will's heart stayed close to her and not in the hands of anyone else, not even Jack.

On cue as always, the door opened and Jack strode towards the vanity mirror, inspecting his reflection as Elizabeth sat before him. Jack adjusted the dark brunette wig then his shirtfront then his posture then the wig again.

"I look like someone I'd kill," he decided.

Elizabeth nearly snorted.

"Perfect. No one would ever be the wiser." Elizabeth turned to Jack and smoothed down the arms of the crimson suit jacket from where they were pushed up, her fingertips brushing over the pirate brand on his arm before concealing it.

Jack scratched his head through the wig. "How does any self-respecting swordsman fight with all of this awful hair?"

"Gentlemen don't swordfight."

"Lucky I'm not a gentleman then," he muttered, tugging at the front of his breeches then scratching at his wig once more.

"You ought to stop messing with that." Elizabeth went to her closet. "Here."

"Nice hat." Jack smiled, eyeing it in Elizabeth's hands. "Actually, isn't that—?"

She nodded.

"I couldn't possibly—"

"We're off to save him. He would want you to wear it for the occasion." She placed it atop his head. The two studied his reflection. After a beat—

"Somehow that made it worse."

Elizabeth shook her head at Jack, unable to fight off the smile pulling at the corners of her mouth, letting herself feel like a child in that moment. She was dressing a pirate, about to set off on an adventure—the moment nearly straight out of her childhood imagination. "Trust me, there will be worse."

Returning to the gravity of the moment, Elizabeth gave Jack his black mask and gripped her own tightly out of nerves, her knuckles turning nearly as white as the lace. Everything will be fine. Maybe if she thought the phrase enough times, she would eventually believe it.

.

Elizabeth peeked her head out from behind a stone wall and Jack's followed above hers soon after. Once confirming the walkway was empty, Elizabeth linked her arm with Jack's and they started towards the governor's ball. Elizabeth breathed in deep through her nose, trying to ease her weariness, so unaccustomed with events outside of the banal.

"Jack, I've been meaning to tell you—"

"No one else can measure up to my unmatchable wit, good looks, and suavity?" he offered, turning to flash her a golden smile. She was sure he raised his eyebrows under his mask.

"I think we should—Duck."

A crow cawed out after flapping overhead, nearly knocking Jack's hat—Will's hat—clean off his head. Jack was frozen, his free hand clutching onto the feathered hat and the other digging into Elizabeth's arm.

"Actually, that was a crow, Swann," he teased, although he wore an alarmed expression. "Never a good sign. Crows."

"Jack." Elizabeth pulled his focus back by resuming their brisk walk and made a third attempt at her statement. "I think we should go after the Fountain of Youth instead."

"The Fountain is unfindable."

"You didn't have me last time."

"Swann, I know the pendant will do the trick. Trust me," Jack said, pausing to look at her, his eyes sizing her up. "If you're capable of that sort of thing."

Elizabeth sighed, insulted, but she rolled her eyes to the black sky, nodding somewhat in agreement.

"You don't make it easy."

"You don't make several things easy, but here we are, still breathing." Jack straightened his posture as they neared the governor's residence. "And if we turn up short, at least we have a plan to fall back on." She studied his brown eyes, finding honestly there. "But we won't need it. I have a good feeling about this, Lizzie." After a particularly weighted silence, Jack blew air through his lips. "Alright, I have a particularly uneasy feeling about this—which means it's the right choice. The true way out is never easy and facing Esmeralda will not be easy."

"Esmeralda?" Elizabeth couldn't help the bit of excitement that crept into her voice at the name from Jack's past. "That was the 'mostly!'"

Jack frowned, ignoring what Elizabeth was going on about, not remembering his slip-up from the orchard revealing there was more to their impending journey than resolving Will's curse. "Yes, I have my own ulterior motive. Don't we all? We all have our 'what if's—Mine just so happens to have raven hair and fills out a dress so well it's unreal."

"Why must we cross paths with Esmeralda?"

"Magic is like feelings, Swann. It goes dormant if left alone too long. The pendant and ring must be reactivated by a pair who used them last. If the wench is still alive, that only leaves three surviving who used the set's power that I know of."

"And the third?"

"My father." Jack narrowed his eyes. "After all this, I can hopefully rid Esmeralda from my memory for good and become Captain of the Dutchman to save your beloved William in the same trip."

"Two birds, one stone."

"Let's just hope we aren't the birds," Jack muttered, stalling at the entrance to the governor's residence. He turned to her suddenly and spoke in a rapid whisper, "Elizabeth, I can't help but feel like we are stepping on the edge of a precipice, about to enter conflict that will result in irreversible transfiguration."

"Nothing we haven't underwent before, right?" she offered.

His mouth turned up in an assured smile. "Very good. In we go then."

The pair stepped forward and the doorman welcomed them in. Elizabeth chided herself for her instant wonderment. She thought she wouldn't admire the pleasures and indulgences of high society any longer—she thought wrong. The feeling of arriving to an event well-dressed, linking arms with someone who was also well-dressed, surrounded by masked attendees who were also well-dressed in a venue meticulously designed down to every last detail was, admittedly, enjoyable—in that instant gratification kind of way. The people were breathtaking. The serving trays and decadent deserts were breathtaking. The floral arrangements and banners were breathtaking. Then again, Elizabeth was sure she wouldn't feel as swept up into the excitement if she were alone without Jack accompanying her to hold and lean into.

Jack grasped Elizabeth's arm tighter and whispered in her ear, "Alright, so the big wigs know a thing or two about décor and finery."

"We aren't here to rub elbows with people who think they are of higher importance than they are," she quietly said for both of their sakes. "We're here for the pendant."

"Right. You said the governor's study was—"

"Miss Swann! Dear, wherever have you been? Tucked away for so long."

"Then coming out of thin air, and in such charming company."

Elizabeth forced her eyes to not roll towards the ceiling and, instead, stay blinking forward at the two older women who would always glad-hand with her father at events. As Elizabeth tried to place their names—as interchangeable as any social climber there—her arm was unlinked from Jack's and both women were fawning over him, asking question after question. Elizabeth made to interrupt when the governor's nephew swept into Elizabeth's side to share polite conversation before his wife sidled up to him wearing a pointed look behind her fan. Elizabeth opened her own fan and, by the time she returned her attention to Jack, she noticed his pair of new friends seemed taken with him already.

"Oh, your cousin is such a scoundrel," one of the women said behind her fan, the word dripping with intrigue.

"Yes, trouble-making must run in the family," the other chimed in.

"Well, if he's a trouble-maker, I welcome trouble with open arms."

Elizabeth swore she heard the other woman mention more than her arms would be open which she purposefully ignored.

"Yes, that sounds like him," Elizabeth agreed, meeting Jack's eyes. He stood silently until Elizabeth narrowed her eyes in a glare, then, understanding—

"I apologize, dear women, I must take my leave," Jack said, returning the fan he used to hide his gold-plated teeth. Jack rejoined Elizabeth's side, letting her steer them to a more secluded area of the ballroom.

"I thought we agreed to keep a low profile. I get stopped for one moment and there you are—being… yourself—about to promenade two respected women!"

"I can't help but attract good company." Jack's arms flew helplessly at his side, seemingly exasperated by his own charm.

"Stay focused," she said, straightening his gold embroidered cravat. "I'll lead us to the study and keep watch while you find the pendant."

Elizabeth felt like her heart was about to jump out of her corset, thinking it foolhardy now to bring a pirate to the governor's ball. Se fanned herself, remembering their plan, the burlap sack tied at her waist, and the fact that Jack wasn't just any pirate. In fact, he could probably more convincingly feign belonging in this setting than herself these days.

Jack followed Elizabeth, his hand resting on her lower back as not to lose her in the crowd. His eyes scanned the guests, and he couldn't help but study the various members of high society, making mental notes of certain walks, gestures, and bits of dialogue to borrow later.

"Miss Swann."

The pair turned and Jack recognized pure, unadulterated jealousy on the man's face that was not unlike a horse's, his eyes pointedly directed at Jack's hand resting on the small of Elizabeth's back.

"Charles." Elizabeth forced a smile. She sensed the need for introduction in the weighted silence. "My,"—Elizabeth looked from the playwright to Jack—"cousin," she supplied.

"Henry." Jack thrust forward a hand. Charles merely eyed the offered handshake and Jack glanced from his hand to the man with the horse-face. He had cleaned under his nails and everything. Jack's eyes glanced down to check—yes, clean nails—before removing his hand from Elizabeth's back to clasp both together behind him at the awkward introduction.

"Charmed. Where do you hail from, Henry? I can't quite place your accent."

"Colored from my many travels," Jack answered smugly. "You know, once when I was in France—"

"My cousin does travel often to study," Elizabeth interrupted, forcefully pressing her fan into Jack's chest when she noticed Charles staring at Jack's gold-plated teeth. "Will one of your play previews show today, Charles?" she asked, trying to ignore Jack opening and closing the fan in her peripheral vision.

"Why yes, it's why I came over. I hope you stay long enough to see it." He offered a wide, self-assured smile.

"You know how I tire of parties," Elizabeth said, her voice trailing off as her eyes scanned the ballroom. She pulled Jack into her side when she noticed him starting to follow a server carrying a tray of wine glasses.

"I knew you would say that which is why I hoped you might,"—Charles wet his lips—"take the air with me?"

"I ought not leave my cousin. I see him so rarely," Elizabeth answered, forcing any amount of fabricated pity she could muster into the response. "Another time. Wonderful seeing you," she said, taking her fan back and steering Jack towards the study.

"'Take the air?' What is he going on about?"

"It's what gentlemen say when they mean to court someone."

"Ah, courting. In Tortuga, we just call that a waste of time and shillings."

"We're almost there," Elizabeth whispered.

At that very moment, a pair of trumpets sounded and Elizabeth tugged Jack's hand to still him. They were caught in the middle of the guests, pausing for the announcement. Jack focused on not scratching at his wig or turning his head around too much to take in the scene that he missed most of what the announcer droned on about. He did take notice of the way the man clapped his hands together with a sense of self-importance. Jack adjusted his stance, squaring his shoulders in the same way as the first waltz of the night was announced.

As rehearsed, Jack offered his hand to Elizabeth to which she curtsied and accepted, palm-to-palm with Jack. The two circled, following the crowd when they alternated directions.

"I never understood much of dance before," Jack said lowly, "but I understand now—an excuse for closeness to another."

"You needing an excuse for selfish impulse? Unheard of."

Following the lead of those around him, Jack took Elizabeth's hand and rested his other on her waist. Elizabeth's heart felt lighter than it had for some time, focusing on dancing in time with Jack. She stared at him, nearly breathless behind her mask. It was her corset, she decided, certainly not Jack's fingers against her waist or the way his jaw was set, focused and sure. Eventually, Jack gave himself over to the pattern of dance and met her eyes.

"Elizabeth."

"Yes."

"Would you take the air with me?"

"We have to find the pendant," she answered, her voice demure, as if she were years younger. She felt as if she were in a childhood dream.

"But if we didn't have to," Jack countered. "If I was just a man, waltzing with a woman at a ball, would you take the air with me?"

There was a part of Elizabeth that allowed herself to imagine seeing Jack across the ballroom, sharing lingering glances and, finally, touching the tip of the fan with her finger as if to say, Please talk with me alone. Then, after enough polite conversation, she would barely brush the fan, half-closed, to her lips as if to say, You're welcome to kiss me. Then, should the advance go unnoticed, she would pull the fan in closer to offer, Please, kiss me. However, she knew, instead, she would feel obligated to take the fan in her right hand and twirl it to convey, I love another. Obligated? Called to, she corrected—all these thoughts a rush in her mind.

Elizabeth's steps faltered and Jack caught her, pulling her in closer and instantly correcting the mishap. She studied the wrinkles framing his eyes behind his mask, willing herself to appear disinterested in the pirate's life, the years of stories she still had yet to hear resting there.

She was hyperaware of the fact this moment would become a memory, a memory she could call upon when they would be apart, so she took interest in calling to memory the slight pull of a self-assured smile on Jack's lips, the way the chandelier overhead reflected in his dark eyes, and the way his hand fit in hers.

"I fully respect your loyalty. You play the whole stoic not-quite-widow bit well, don't get me wrong," Jack said, "but I also sense your need for closeness, Elizabeth—a thirst that you eventually won't be able to—"

Charles circled in close to the pair, narrowing his eyes at Jack over a woman's shoulders.

"Second cousin," Jack supplied, following the statement with a close-mouthed smile. "A thirst," he started again, quieter, "you won't be able to contain much longer. The sides of a ship ought to feel the crash of the waves. A sea bird's ought to feel the salty wind under her wing. A woman's ought to employ her… feminine wiles."

"My wiles," Elizabeth echoed through a laugh. "You remember how that turned out for you last time."

"So I can't trust you with handcuffs—a trifle." Jack's hand smoothed down Elizabeth's waist and he frowned at a repetitive, thumping beat which he soon recognized as Will's heart resting underneath his palm. Jack's hand instantly drew away and if Elizabeth wasn't refocused on reminding Jack of their plan she would have laughed at his expression.

"This isn't the time," Elizabeth whispered, "Henry." She leaned her head to the side and ringlets of her hair tossed in the same direction towards a pathway they could easily maneuver through.

Reluctantly, Jack let the moment of flirtation pass as Elizabeth led them out of the crowd. She grabbed a glass of wine from a tray and Jack made an affronted look at her indulgence after she averted his earlier.

"The study isn't far at all." Elizabeth hastened in the direction of the study and Jack followed, mentally noting every escape route on the way. "Here we are, now you slip in and find the pendant."

"A kiss for good luck?"

"Jack."

"Never took you for one to be boring, Swann."

Standing guard at the door, Elizabeth fanned herself and started swirling the wine. She tapped her foot impatiently to the music to a new song which initially sounded joyous and now sounded anxious.

"How's it going in there?"

"Can't find a thing in all this bric-a-brac."

Relenting, Elizabeth took a sip of wine, then another, then she nearly emptied the glass.

"Oi, I've got it!"

"The pendant?"

"Better! A lute."

Elizabeth was about to scold him as she heard him start to play, but her voice caught in her throat at the sight of the governor's wife.

"Jack." She called for him, breathless. "Jack."

Elizabeth slipped into the entryway of the study to remove the instrument from Jack's hands then take hold of his arm, leading him out and gently shutting the door. "Look at the governor's wife. In lavender."

Jack's eyes danced, noticing the simple pendant, the stone matching his ring, hanging delicately around the governor's wife's neck. "That's it alright."

"We're done for."

"Done for? Please. Give me five minutes—"

"She is the governor's wife. She isn't like the women you pay in Tortuga."

"Oh, don't get too jealous, love. I'm simply going to strike up friendly conversation. Anything more would last much longer than five minutes." Jack took the wine glass from Elizabeth and emptied the remnants. She watched Jack slip into the crowd of guests, placing the glass on a tray that passed by at just the right moment and it appeared as if the dancing guests parted just for him, unknowingly.

"Miss Swann?"

"Oh, hello." She returned the offered smile from Governor Lewis who raised his mask, as if she hadn't recognized him.

"I'm so glad you made it out." He took her free hand in both of his for a moment and studied her. The worry in his brow made her pity him, in a way. He shouldn't worry for her, he should worry for himself, that he still believed throwing grand balls every now and then would make up for the disordered system he supported and partook in.

"Yes, it's still rather difficult to leave the house sometimes, but you make it so inviting."

"And difficult to leave behind the life you thought you wanted?"

"Studying in Italy?" she offered.

"Elizabeth." The governor gave her a knowing look. "Will was nothing more than a troublesome influence—and learning he had pirate blood, well it all makes sense. A woman like yourself, so trusting, of course you got swept up, thinking Will had your best interests at heart." The governor turned to the crowd, taking a content breath. "Believe me, keep attending events like this and you will find a better suited match."

Elizabeth's mouth nearly dropped at Jack winking her way before leading the governor's wife out of the ballroom.

"You are absolutely right." She instantly stepped into the governor's line of sight to obstruct the exit, waving her fan quicker. "When was Charles's play preview to begin?"

"Yes, Charles." The governor nodded, wearing a knowing smile. Elizabeth realized he made a connection between her sentences that was not intended. "Of course, still going against the grain with an artistic type. Even so, at least he writes what we all need to hear—Oh, there, it looks like he's rounding up the group now. Come now, we can find the best spot."

Elizabeth's fan batted faster and in a few clumsy fits she nearly hit herself, her mind far away with Jack and the governor's wife, willing him to hurry along so they could slip away unnoticed.

Elizabeth felt a hand on the small of her back and started. She turned, met by Jack's wide grin beneath his black mask. He held up the pendant, it swinging on his index finger. She swatted the pendant down with her fan before the governor could see, kicking it underneath her skirts. Jack made a suggestive look and, before he could say anything, Elizabeth swatted again, this time at Jack's chest, when the governor's back was turned, speaking with another guest.

"What's all this?" Jack asked, staring at the excitement forming high above the crowd.

Elizabeth took Jack by the arm. "A scene from Charles's play is about to start, but we really should be on our way."

"Elizabeth," the governor turned back to her. "You couldn't possibly leave before the play," he insisted.

Jack watched in fascination at the introduction—the artful manner of speaking, the dramatic movements, the comedic timing. He felt as if he were watching, well, himself. He rested a hand thoughtfully against his chin, pulled out from enchantment by—

"Elizabeth, who is this?" the governor whispered.

"My cousin Henry."

Jack shook the governor's hand, offering a closed-mouth smile, avoiding chancing the governor noticing a glimpse of gold. Jack returned his attention back to the theatrics, his smile falling at a man wearing an eyepatch and another with a prop peg leg behaving horribly, making a mockery of pirates. Jack reached into his suitcoat for the knife hidden there.

"No," Elizabeth said lowly, taking his hand and ushering them away from the governor's side. She looked at Jack with pleading eyes behind her mask. "They are ignorant to the truths of this world—who are truly valiant and who are truly faint-hearted. Let them play pretend," she whispered, "while we save Will."

Jack's jaw was tense but he relaxed, the worry in Elizabeth's eyes breaking through to him. "We save Will."

"Ladies and gentlemen!"

Jack and Elizabeth turned to find Charles staggering across the stage in full costume, and Jack's eyes narrowed instantly, clenching his jaw once again.

"You have got to be joking," Elizabeth whispered in disbelief.

"You will always remember this as the day you almost caught… caught… Well, isn't that laughable—I can't remember the faintest who I am! It's not as if I don't say it enough… Oh, that's right, Captain Jack Dodo!"

"Alright, that's it," Jack said, his voice low and covered by guffaws from the crowd, before striding towards one of the staircases.

Elizabeth threw down her fan and hurried after Jack.

"Oi! How many pirates does it take to light a chandelier?" Jack asked, interrupting the play as soon as he reached the balcony, leaning against the railing.

"Doesn't matter—they're all too poor they would never be near one!" Charles snickered, earning more laughter from the crowd.

Jack was before Charles in an instant, grabbing his shirtfront with one hand and his knife was held to Charles's throat with the other, eliciting a gasp from the crowd.

"And it only takes one to slit the throat of a playwright."

"It's—it is him," Charles sputtered, then louder, "Sparrow! It's Jack Sparrow!" he shouted, causing the guests to jeer.

"Sparrow?"

"Pirate wretch!"

"Elizabeth! With the likes of him? You wench!"

"I knew you were a waste of skin," Charles said, spitting in Jack's face.

Jack wiped his eyes with the back of his arm and held his hand out to catch a sword Elizabeth threw she pulled from the wall in the same motion.

"Great, now if I'm to ever have my likeness printed in a history book, I'll look a bloody fool." Jack rolled his eyes, slipping the knife into his boot before shoving Charles to the ground and switching the sword into his dominant hand. He tossed Will's hat into the crowd, followed soon after by the wig he ripped from his head. The two older women he spoke to earlier caught them, swooning. He tore the ribbon from his hair, setting his dreadlocks free, wearing a performative grin as he bowed. "To our constituency of adoring fans, no time for autographs today. The wench and I must take our leave," Jack announced before elbowing an expected attacker and kneeing another.

Elizabeth joined Jack's side and, back-to-back, the pair kept the actors at bay, noticing guards climbing the spiraling staircases on either side.

"Now?" Elizabeth asked, holding off two of the actors as Jack fought three.

"Now."

The pair turned, flipping the table before the high window into the glass, looking down to where Sparrow was tied to the post, rearing at the fallen glass and splintering wood.

"It's higher up than I remembered—"

Jack sighed, grabbing Elizabeth by the waist and pulling her into him. "How many times do we have to escape life-threatening circumstances together before you trust me?" He allowed for a beat of looking into her eyes before glancing down at the pendant around her neck. Jack took Elizabeth's sword and threw the pair of weapons into the ground, stalling the nearing actors and guards. Jack threw the knife from his boot through the window, cutting the rope to free Sparrow before wrapping Elizabeth's arms around his middle and sending them both over the ledge.

Jack's arms wrapped around Sparrow's throat gracelessly and Elizabeth's arms tightened around his middle. With her face pressed against his back, she peeked an eye open and, relived, she couldn't help a bubble of laughter.

"I forgot!" she laughed, straightening her posture. "That feeling!"

"Nothing quite like barely making it out of a scrape is there?" Jack asked, tearing the mask from his face then finding the reins, fumbling with them helplessly.

Elizabeth removed her own mask as well, looking over her shoulder at the pair of masks strewn on the cobblestone before reaching around Jack to steer Sparrow to the port. She was driven by the fullness of feeling like herself, as if her true inner self returned the moment she jumped from the window with Jack. He turned to find the governor's men not quite on their tails but closer than he would like. He faced forward again, making an uneasy sound.

Jack stumbled off of Sparrow, instantly working on lowering the sloop's sail. Elizabeth pressed her forehead against the horse's, quickly thanking her for the months spent together before assisting Jack by cutting the ropes tying the sloop to port. She was focused on the task at hand but couldn't stop thoughts from pouring in at the same time—No wonder Jack fell victim to the routine of the drink. Having experienced so many scrapes, so many stories, the receptors in his mind to the thrilling experiences in life must be dulled in a way. Jack had to have a greater threshold for that sort of thing, greater than anyone else she ever met.

Hearing a few gun shots, Jack grabbed Elizabeth by the waist and pulled her down just as she cut the last rope tying the trading sloop to port. Jack peered over the edge of the boat, smiling widely.

"Wasting powder out of spite. Sore losers." He threw his head back, letting out a crowing laugh.

"We spare the girl for Weatherby!" one of the guards called out.

"Don't bother showing your face here again, Elizabeth, should you like to keep it!" another threatened.

"Gladly," she muttered, standing to cut through the fabric of the ballgown, revealing the fitted beige trousers she wore beneath.

Jack glanced over his shoulder, double taking at the sudden change as Elizabeth threw the armful of fabric over the edge of the sloop. She watched the weight of the full, ornate skirt sink into the ocean, recalling Jack diving in to save her all those years ago, but there was no saving the former governor's daughter façade now. Elizabeth breathed easier. What a relief.

She toyed at the pendant around her neck, remembering Jack's words.

"A married woman has no right visiting a man like me."

Was he right? Would she never see him again following the rescue of Will?

Elizabeth let out a sigh at her own unhelpful thoughts, for already aching at the thought of separating from Jack again. She was with him now. That should be enough.

Her hand brushed against the burlap sack at her waist. At a chill gust of wind, Elizabeth tucked her arms around her bodice for warmth, cold from the night air.

"Missing him?" Jack posed the question, gesturing to the burlap sack. Elizabeth realized he assumed she was pining after Will rather than himself.

"Yes," she was quick to answer.

"Hold onto that," Jack urged then shrugged off his suitcoat. "To miss someone is actually a wonderful thing."

Jack offered the jacket to her. Elizabeth reached out but before she could grab it, Jack took her by wrist, a gentle "ah" falling from his lips, tenderly halting her. He slipped the coat over her shoulders then returned to holding her wrist, studying her palm. Jack nodded, a smile pulling at his lips.

"Water hands," he said, apparently unsurprised but satisfied with the classification.

"What?"

"Water hands," Jack repeated. "You feel your emotions strongly, often leading your decision-making. Compassionate. Imaginative. Some may even say sensitive."

"Palm reading?"

"Aye."

"And yourself?"

"You have to ask, Swann?" Jack grinned. "Think on it. Sparrow…" Jack pointed up. "Air. It had to be air." He then pointed to his right hand. "Square palm, long fingers," he explained.

Elizabeth's palm met his again for the second time that night.

"Long palm, long fingers," he said, his head nodding towards Elizabeth's hand.

"And the traits of those with air hands?" she asked, leaning in, interested.

"Curious. Gift of chatter and logical reasoning. Easily distracted." Jack's eyes fell to Elizabeth's mouth and he lowered his hand instantly, turning away. "So they say."

"They?"

"'The Great Esmeralda sees all,'" Jack answered, each word of the sentence weighted.

"Tell me more, Jack."

Jack held up a finger then crept into the lower deck. After some time, he popped his head up and gestured her forward. He patted the spot at the top of the stairs next to him expectantly with one hand, protecting the flame of a candle with the other. Elizabeth sat and offered her palm once more.

Jack's fingertips barely brushed against her skin, and he raised his eyebrows and widened his eyes before squinting and leaning in closer, all the while humming and softly voicing a variety of scooping vocalizations from surprised to affirming to questioning. Elizabeth shook her head, her mouth pulling into a childlike smile. She didn't care if Jack knew what he was doing or not because, for now, he was with her, indulging her.

"Wavy head line—you go against the grain. Naturally. Deep line—deeper than my own—conveying a strong focus. There's a break but, no worries, you've come on the other side of that, or you wouldn't be here now," he explained. "And here, the highest line, your heart line—starts here in the middle it does—not necessarily meaning restlessness in relationships but can, and some say shows signs of selfishness in love, unquenchable." Jack paused, then rushed on. "But I tell you what, the best people have a heart line like yours… Ah, your heart line breaks, indicating a transformative bond. Don't worry, you'll rejoin with dear William." Jack traced the middle of Elizabeth's palm slowly with both his index and middle finger. "Your fate line is difficult to make out—rather long though, and see how it tapers at the end?" Jack leaned in. "That's interesting… However, they say it can change. You can change it."

"And my life line?"

"Not as exciting as you think, love. Doesn't actually tell how long you'll live. But yours… another break. Not to worry though, just showing more change. You've went through a lot," he supplied, lowering her hand.

"Tell me more, Jack," she repeated, reaching out to rest the palm he was just studying so intently against his arm.

He lifted her hand and, in that moment, a gust of wind blew, and even sitting somewhat secluded at the top the lower deck couldn't protect the candle from blowing out or stop Jack from losing his balance. Elizabeth gasped, some of the wax slipping onto her palm. Jack instantly set the chamberstick aside, taking her hand in both of his own. Elizabeth felt her face go hot so near Jack again in silence. She thanked the darkness.

"Fire hands," she joked.

"No," Jack answered, his voice low and regretful. "I know those hands."