Chapter 15: 1740 - Persuade Me!


The "Black Pearl" had left Tortuga Bay at the same hour her new course was set, and she was sailing close-hauled towards her destination: Isla Cruces...

Part of the crew was busy scrubbing the deck, another was busy checking guns and ammunition, and those who had nothing to do at all dozed in their hammocks waiting for the ship's cook to call for dinner.

Jack had left the helm to van Dijk and was sitting, or rather lying, on a stack of disused folded sails as he watched the Dutchman navigate his ship until curiosity got the better of him: "Do you have any idea what you will do once this adventure is over?"

"Depends..."

"On?"

"On surviving this adventure..."

"Do you have any doubts about that?"

"Not in principle, but when I think about how this all started after we left your enchanted little island, there is at least a small reason for some doubts. Don't you think so?"

Jack thought for a moment, glanced at his left hand and nodded: "I agree with you about certain things, but admit it, van Dijk, you enjoy it in a way, don't you? I mean, when in your life as a respectable merchant have you ever experienced so many extraordinary things as in the time since we met?"

"I can't deny it, lad, but neither can I deny that I long for my native shores every now and then."

Jack understood what he meant. Perhaps not quite in the same way, but the feeling he got when he thought of the little island with the cosy little cottage on the cliff seemed quite comparable to him. Eventually another thought came to his mind: "If you really go back to the Netherlands, what will become of Anamaria? Will you take her with you? After all, it's obvious that she likes you and you like her, eh...?"

Van Dijk smiled pensively - and a little embarrassed: "Of course I've already thought of that, but I'll leave this decision to her."

"Whatever your plan, do not hesitate..."

"Thanks for the good advice, son, but I'm not getting any younger and, to be honest, I've never thought about getting married and settling down..."

"The one down there in the ragged uniform all the more..." Jack pointed to Norrington, who was busy scrubbing the deck with the others.

"Norrington?"

"Aye! He still hasn't quite given up hope of eventually making Miss Swann his Misses Commodore. But that's just one of the reasons why he hired aboard the 'Pearl'. His romantic feelings for Elizabeth might be the essential reason, but the other, is a much more ambitious one..."

"Do you think he knows anything about Davy Jones and the chest?"

"Knowing would be a bit of an overstatement, mate. However, I'm sure that it wasn't just pure coincidence that caused him to appear in Tortuga just now. In my opinion he knows far more about what we are looking for than he has the kindness of letting us know. I'm also convinced he already regrets having given me a day's head start..."

Before van Dijk could give him an answer, Elizabeth came up the steps to the helm. Her expression reflected all sorts of feelings, including deep scepticism, especially when she noticed Norrington on deck below.

Jack caught her eye and he wondered what it meant: "What's the matter, love? Is something wrong? It seems to me, you don't entirely agree with my decision to hire your ex-fiancé, eh?"

"I don't know what it is," Elizabeth admitted frankly, still looking at Norrington: "Beckett had three death warrants with him when he arrived in Port Royal. One for Will, one for me and the third for James. But I'm not sure what's really behind it. James was said to have resigned after losing the 'Dauntless', but no one has seen or heard from him since. So, I wonder, why he showed up in Tortuga last night..."

"From the looks of him, he's probably been there for a while. Maybe he knew we'd make berth on the island sooner or later..."

"Might be! But, Jack, I wonder what happens should we really return to Port Royal."

"Well, if you ask me, love, that will depend entirely on the value you three will be able to deliver to Beckett. Will told me some of the things Beckett is asking of you as the price of your freedom. Also that he lusts for my compass." Jack looked thoughtfully at the small and simple wooden box on his belt: "I even have a vague idea what Beckett wants with it, but vague ideas are not what will help us. He didn't mention anything to Will but maybe you had better arguments to get something out of him? Do you remember what else he said or wanted from you?"

Elizabeth sat down beside him on the pile of old sails and remarked: "Not much, except for accusing us all of colluding with pirates and helping them escape."

"No need to beat about the bush, darling! Just get straight to the point! It's not about any random pirate. If he was only interested in hanging any random pirate, he would do so without putting in all the effort. It's me, he's after. Why else would he have ordered every garrison to hand me over to the East India Trading Company should they get hold of me? Since he knows I'm still alive, his only aim is to change this. And you three, you, Will and Norrington, foiled that plan. Unfortunately, not only does he seem to know something about what you've done, but also what the secret of my compass is."

"Maybe it's the doing of that sinister guy who seems to follow Beckett everywhere like a shadow. He does not speak much but he seems to have his eyes and ears everywhere." Elizabeth shuddered at the thought of the man Beckett had brought to Port Royal as his right hand.

"Mercer?"

Elizabeth nodded and was amazed to see that a gloomy shadow seemed to darken Jack's eyes. His look startled her and she asked: "What is it, Jack? Are you all right?"

Jack blinked a few times to push the memories aside which the sheer mention of this man made well up deep inside his innermost: "It's nothing, love, nothing you should worry about. Just one thing: Stay away from Ian Mercer! Unlike me, you have no idea what the man is capable of. Avoid every encounter with him, if you can, Elizabeth!"

He cleared his throat, exchanged a quick look with van Dijk, and then continued as if nothing had happened: "But tell me, love, how come you show up in Tortuga while your beloved William is convinced you're under lock and key in a cell in the Port Royal garrison, eh?"

"Father didn't want to wait to find out if you or Will could be trusted. He wanted to take matters into his own hands and dare the crossing to London with the help of a friendly captain, to ask the king himself for help and clemency for us. The plan went awry and I escaped before they could drag me out of the carriage we hurried to the harbour with. That same night I had a truly inspiring conversation with Lord Beckett. And as you already guessed he's obsessed with the idea of getting his hands on your compass."

It was not lost on Jack that, at the thought of his compass, Elizabeth still seemed unconvinced that it was worth all the trouble: "You still don't believe what I told you about my compass, do you? But if what I told you about it wasn't true, why do you think Beckett is so determined to get hold of it? For sure not because he wants to add a broken compass to his collection of nautical instruments..."

He hesitated, then added: "Everything I've told you about it is true, love. This compass is really capable of leading you to all those things your heart desires most. So far it never failed me but so far I've never used it to harm others either. This will change should Beckett get his hands on it. In that case, we are all lost. Didn't he tell you anything about what he needs it for, that night when you had your truly inspiring conversation with him?"

Elizabeth tried to recall the details of her nightly dialogue with Beckett: "One thing is not at stake and that is treasures."

"Could it be that he's looking for Davy Jones' chest," van Dijk took into consideration.

"Yes," Elizabeth agreed: "Yes! He said something about a chest!"

"I don't like that thought," Gibbs remarked, joining them at that very moment.

Elizabeth looked from one to the other and all three seemed deeply concerned about what they had just heard. So she asked: "I realize I should probably know what this is all about, but I'll admit I have no idea. What is it this chest is about, that everyone seems so determined in finding it?"

It was van Dijk who answered her question: "The chest belongs to Davy Jones, the captain of the 'Flying Dutchman' and both the ship and its captain were once tasked with guiding the souls of all those who die at sea to the other side. Jones, though, neglected his duties, out of scorned love, as they say, thus cursing his ship, his crew and himself. And because he could neither endure nor want the feelings he still had for the woman, he cut his heart out, locked it in a chest and buried it on a small island in the Caribbean."

"He's right, Miss Elizabeth," Gibbs added: "They say whoever finds the heart of Davy Jones holds power over the man himself, and whoever is able to wield power over Davy Jones also has control of the 'Flying Dutchman.' And whoever controls the 'Flying Dutchman' controls the sea."

"A truly discomforting notion that is, love!" Jack nodded towards the sea: "Imagine it! None of us would be able to make a stand against Beckett and his assembled fleet with Davy Jones and an unleashed 'Dutchman' in the lead. If that should ever happen, Lizzie, that would be ours all downfall!"

"So you mean..."

"Bad this would be," Gibbs replied: "Bad for every mother's son who calls himself pirate. I think there's a bit more speed to be coaxed from these sails."

That said, he went back to the deck and shortly after they heard him urging the crew: "Brace the foreyard!"

It took Elizabeth a moment to process all of what she had heard. Eventually, however, she turned to Jack and asked: "If it's just for that chest and the heart, what good are those letters of marque Beckett offered as a reward?"

She dug out the leather-bound papers, she carried around with her and handed them to Jack.

So far he had only heard from Will, that Beckett wanted to renew his offer to him, to sail for the East India Trading Company again and until now he had not believed that this move was actually part of the plan. But now that he held the papers in his hand, he was amazed: "Might I inquire how as to how you came by these?"

"Persuasion!"

"Friendly?"

"Decidedly not."

Jack had expected nothing less, but one thing surprised him: "Tell me Lizzie, you and your William are an odd couple. Will strikes a deal for these and upholds it with honour, thinking you're still safe behind bars in Port Royal. And yet you're the one standing here with the prize. Full pardon, commission as a privateer on behalf of England and the East India Trading Company." He grinned: "As if I could be bought for such a low price. But," his grin got wider: "One can never know. So, I think, I'll keep them!"

With that, the letters of marque disappeared into one of the pockets of his coat, but Elizabeth didn't seem too happy about that: "Jack, the letters, give them back."

"Persuade me!"

Jack's eyes shimmered in the sunlight, and his grin was that odd mix of seduction, sensuality and confidence which made it so difficult to resist him. Much to his personal amusement, Elizabeth also found it difficult to resist it for her arguments were weak: "You know Will taught me how to handle a sword..."

Hardly worth mentioning, given that he knew the woman who had taught Will swordsmanship on her part: "As I said: Persuade me..."

With that he brushed a few strands of hair from her brow and let his fingers slowly follow the lines of her face down to her cheek. He caressed it gently and remarked: "You know, love, there are still plenty of men and women out there, who claim love is some kind of battle, in which there must be a winner and a vanquished. I'm not that type of fool! I enjoy surrendering as much as I enjoy if the woman I'm spending the night with dares to give herself to me. Believe me, Lizzie, if you dared give yourself to me, you would have nothing to fear..."

He had whispered the last words close to her ear, and she felt each of those words set a different part of her on fire - and she closed her eyes...

Only to see him head for the captain's quarters moments later, and the letters of marque with him...


Barely an hour later, Elizabeth made up her mind to make a second attempt to retrieve the letters of marque.

Determined not to be deterred by anything or anyone, she finally entered the captain's quarters without bothering with any formalities and without knocking.

Let Jack Sparrow, let everyone on board, think what they wanted to think of her, all she wanted were those letters of marque!

It was quiet in Jack's quarters.

Aside from the daylight that poured in through the window, only a single candle provided some additional brightness. As usual, charts, logbooks, a compass and other nautical instruments lay on the table alongside a quill, an inkwell, and an opened bottle of rum. Some of Jack's clothes lay scattered on the floor where he had dropped them and he himself lay in his berth, eyes on the ceiling, his head in his palms.

He was dozing and only blinked when he heard her footsteps as she approached his berth.

"You know you're always welcome with me, love, but," Jack raised his eyes to her: "what does bring me the honour of your most appreciated closeness for the second time today? In addition in here alone with me in my quarters?"

"You know exactly what I want and why I'm here, Jack", she hissed, still angry that he had just left her standing there - with a racing pulse and overwhelmed by those feelings he had stirred up within her. Although she certainly wasn't going to let him know about her racing pulse and those feelings.

What she was also wondering about was if she was angry because he had left her standing there, or whether she was angry because she was angry about being angry...

And it didn't make things any easier that he didn't react and just lay there within his berth with that irresistible smile: "The letters of marque, Jack! Give them back! They have to be good for something. And it has to be good for something that I put a pistol to Beckett's brow for them."

Jack shrugged but still made no move to get up: "Of course they're good for something, darling! And be it only for bringing me the pleasure of your company twice today! I'm just wondering if those letters of marque are really the only reason why are you here now..."

Elizabeth beheld him for a long time.

Not necessarily because she wanted to behold him, but rather because she didn't know how to answer. And, even worse, because she didn't know why she kept being drawn to him. But as he lay there he was everything she had always dreamed of when she read stories about him all night long.

Maybe even more 'cause the man dozing there in his berth was real. He was flesh and blood and he was so close to her that she would just have to stretch out a hand to touch his tanned skin. It would only take her two steps to look into that pair of shiny dark eyes which gaze used to promise everything and nothing. She would just have to give in to be able to feel how his heartbeat quickened near her.

Elizabeth did none of that!

"Why do you have to be so stubborn, Jack Sparrow," she snorted, before grabbing the rum bottle on the table and about to turn to head back on deck.

"Are you sure, that I'm the one of us who's stubborn, love...?"

"You know exactly, that there is only one man in my life! And that would be William Turner!"

With that, she stalked off, slamming the door behind her as she left the cabin.

Jack looked after her half confused, half amused: "It's probably better if Will Turner never finds out anything about the way you were just looking at me right now, Elizabeth Swann...!"