The Black Pearl was up and sailing again. And, aye, what a vessel she was! Sans for the fact that it seemed more like a zoo, what with the pet to crew ratio. Barbossa's evil monkey and Mr. Cotton's parrot seem to have been shrunken along with the Pearl some time before 1750; at that blaggard's last mutiny. The one which left Jack stranded on Tortuga. Come to think of it, this whole mess was Barbossa's fault. Captain Jack strolled the line of the boat. No worries, he thought to himself, that man won't make it to roster on my new crew. They were sailing to Saint Martin, part of the Leeward Islands in the Caribbean Sea. Sandy white beaches. Impartial French folk. There, they could also scrounge up a few scurvy sea dogs to properly run this ship. Of course, it didn't hurt that rhum agricole was rich in supply.
"Well, Jack," Elizabeth's voice came up behind him and he had to wonder once more if it were a dream, "Are you happy?"
He turned on from his view of the horizon. "Would be more so," Jack patted his belly, "if I weren't Blackbeard's pin cushion." He winced, "Still smarts." The two rested their elbows on the rail. "What about you, lo-" No. Better not to say that word. "Lizzie?" His head turned slightly to examine her face, "Are you happy?"
Her deep brown eyes looked him over with contemplation. Swiftly, she looked back to sea. "I suppose. I mean, this is what I set out for: to find my husband."
It would appear that still smarted as well. "Ah, Lizzie. I didn't know we had gone through the rights of marr-i-age," he joked, "You should have told me. When's our anniversary?"
"Jack!" She slapped his shoulder, "You know I'm talking about Will."
"Aye." I know. "What of the Whelp?"
"I wouldn't know… The last time I saw him was on that beach five years ago." She brought a lock of hair behind her ear, the color of long-sought coin. "Not a word by letter. But, I'm sure he's faring well. After all, he's back with his father."
Jack stalled, his expression becoming serious, "Why all this then?"
"All what?" Her gaze implored him.
"All this," he lifted her wrists to show her the scabs from the ropes that tied her. "Why risk your life? What do you hope to gain when you see him again? You and I know he's a cursed man, Lizzie. He can't fairly well board the ship back with you." He eyed her briefly, "Why torment yourself?"
"I don't-" she pulled back her wrist and folded it within her sleeve stubbornly. "I don't know! I was hoping we could find a way. You always seem up for another adventure."
"What then, hm? Would having ol' Will at home with a couple of bouncing babes make you truly happy? Is that what you'd think to yourself when you're safely tucked into your boring beds?" He couldn't bring himself to look at her as he asked.
His words seemed to hint at an answer he already had. The fact that he'd known so much off of so little stung at her pride. "I'm… not sure of that either," her voice grew in strength, "I love him. But, it's been five years. Five years, and all I know is that I can't stand looking out at that damn horizon while I sit and wait ashore!" Her chest moved with exertion.
"Aye." Jack gingerly placed a hand on her shoulder. "And that's enough of a reason as it is."
A breeze uplifted her hair. "…I have to find him, Jack."
"We will," he brought his hands back to the rail. "As long as you know exactly what it is you're searching for by the time we do."
Elizabeth nodded indignantly before joining him to watch setting sun.