Summary: Jack and Arabella meet again after the events of their teenage years. Occurs on Tortuga during AWE, the night before Barbossa steals the Pearl. Heavy references to the young Jack Sparrow books and the Legends of the Brethren Court books. Not related to any of my other stories. One-shot.

Prompt: Write a story inspired by this quote from Ally Condie: "Growing apart doesn't change the fact that for a long time we grew side by side; our roots will always be tangled. I'm glad for that."

A/N: This is a revised version. The original version is also posted on my profile. I shared it with my class for a "workshop" (where we share our stories with our class and get advice on them). So, like I said, this is a revised version. Nothing major changed, just messed with a few sentences here or there. Same plot and all.

Tangled Roots

The last time Arabella had seen him had been when his father had dragged him off, back to Shipwreck Cove. His hair had been relatively short, as he'd trimmed it just a couple days before. He'd had the faintest hint of stubble beginning to grow on his face. He'd been taller than the day they'd first met.

Now, as she stood outside the Faithful Bride tavern in Tortuga, where they'd met, she stared at a wanted poster with his name on it. Jack Sparrow.

His hair had finally grown out, pulled into dreadlocks. Various trinkets were stringed up in it. His beard and mustache had grown in too. To her amusement, and unsurprise, his beard had been braided. It would be just like him to do something like that. But he still had the same old bandanna she remembered. The same high cheekbones too.

Arabella wondered how much his voice and personality had changed.

"Ye lookin' for him, miss?" A voice came from behind her, standing out from the sound of the drunken sailors in the tavern.

She turned to face the newcomer. "Aye."

The man was a good thirty years her senior, his short cropped hair white and gray. He had a mutton chopped beard. His eyes were kind, though he seemed to be a tad drunk. "He be inside. We pulled into port not long b'fore sunset."

A crewmate of Jack's, She figured. "Thank ye."

Arabella entered her father's tavern. A few sober-ish men glanced up as the door swung closed behind her, but were soon back to their drinks. Her gaze roamed the large room, searching for the man on the wanted poster; her childhood friend.

A roar of cheers erupted from one table, as someone won a card game. A fight broke out at another table; it seemed the men there were a bit too drunk. And, finally, her eyes came to rest on her friend.

He was leaning back in his chair, his feet propped up on the table in which he sat. He had a bottle of half empty rum in his hand, though he didn't seem drunk in the least. He'd also achieved the perfect hat, an old tricorn that sat atop his head. No one was at the table with him.

Glancing at his face, Arabella easily made out the lines of his high cheekbones. A look at his eyes showed that they were still the chocolate brown she remembered, with that small mischievous glint hidden in their depths. The man was indeed the Jack Sparrow that had been her friend.

He looked up, his gaze landing on her. Recognition instantly lit his face, his eyes widening in surprise. Nearly falling over backwards in his chair, he dropped it back down to all fours. His trademark smirk revealed itself.

"Well, well. If it isn't Arabella Smith." His voice was slightly deeper, still sounding much like he had during their last encounter. "Get over 'ere, lass, it's been over twenty bloody years."

"Good to see ye too, Jack." She greeted, sitting down across from him. "Ye've kept yourself well."

"Ye don't look half bad yourself." Jack told her. "Like your mum, but better."

Arabella rolled her eyes. "Ye never like me mum, Jack."

"Exactly."

"Ye haven't changed."

"Did ye expect me to?" He asked, an eyebrow raised.

She thought about it. "I suppose not."

"For the record, ye haven't changed much either." Jack told her.

"Ye'd be surprised." Arabella commented.

"Try me."

"I have a ship of me own."

"Really?"

"Ye want to see it?"

"I'm actually rather content right 'ere." He said. "What's 'er name?"

"La Gardienne." She explained. "Translates to Guardian."

"Why am I not surprised it's French?"

"Me mum's ship."

"Ah, right. That's why." Jack recalled. "How's the Fleur these days?"

"Not too bad, for me mum as captain." Arabella answered.

"That's to be expected." He was silent for a long moment. "Ye know, I really missed the lot o' ye for awhile."

"It was never quite the same without hearin' ye argue with me mum." She admitted.

He snorted. "Out of all the things ye could miss...I don't miss that."

"Ye remember the mermaids?" She asked. "Everything always came back to them."

"I never want to see another mermaid in me life, Bell." He mused.

"Bet ye will."

"I hope not."

They fell silent, listening to the sounds of the tavern and each enjoying the other's company. Arabella found herself glad that Jack hadn't changed; he was still the same boy she had known. She caught him glancing at her, guessing he was thinking similar.

"Ye want a drink or anythin'?" He asked.

"Ye forget me dad runs the place." She pointed out.

"Curious, isn't it, that we meet 'ere out o' all places." Jack told her. "Where it all began."

Arabella hummed in agreement. "Have ye ever heard the saying that your destiny can be...tangled with someone else's? Like roots?"

"Sounds vaguely familiar. Why?"

"Think about it. None of us thought we'd ever meet again after we began to split up. After ye left, Tumen did, then Jean and Constance. Thought ye were all gone forever. There has to be a reason we're meeting up again now."

"Hmm...Don't think so." He replied. "Saw Jean an' Constance jus' over ten years ago. Actually sailed aboard me ship for some time. Fair warnin', I preferred her as a cat."

"Well- wait, ye saw them?"

"That's what I said. Ye were sayin'?"

"Our roots are tangled. All the way back to when we were fifteen, when ye started a fight in here." She explained.

"Or it's jus' coincidence." Jack shot back boredly.

"It's not."

"Probably is."

A gunshot went off from the men fighting across the tavern. The pair were so used to the ways of pirates that they didn't so much as flinch.

"It isn't."

"It is."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"This is the one thing I didn't miss after ye left."