The Black Pearl glided swiftly over the vast blue ocean away from Hangman's Bay. It was approaching afternoon, and Jack figured that based on the position of the sun at the current time of the day, they were heading in the same direction they were before they had to flee from Salazar and his ghostly crew to land. Much to the worry of Carina, they had lost a day's worth of travel to find the Trident, but luckily they had already gone a long way on the Dying Gull that it shouldn't take much longer until they found the island where the Trident was. Better still, they had the Black Pearl now, which was the fastest ship in the Caribbean, so the odds were in the crew's favor.
Henry and Carina were astonished at how fast the ship was going. The Gull was so ragged and diminutive that it was a miracle they came as far as they had with it. But the Pearl was unlike anything they had ever seen. It's blackened, burnt state did not at all hinder it's speed as it plowed through the sea, leaving large trails of white foam behind it. The pitch-black sails, no matter which direction the wind was blowing in from time to time, continued to propel the ship forward at an unparalleled speed.
For Henry, this was a dream come true. He had heard stories about the Black Pearl from his mother and the books he read as a child, but seeing it with his own eyes was an experience like no other. He could picture it now, his mother and father at his age aboard this ship, going on many adventures with Captain Jack Sparrow and his crew of pirates. In his excitement, he started to recount the stories of what his parents had told him about their encounters with Jack to Carina.
"... and then my father's leg gets caught up in the netting with the powder barrels," Henry elaborates to Carina while the pair of them are standing at the bow of the Pearl, "So, he pulls out his knife and starts to cut the rope around his leg. Then my mother's got this rifle and she's prepared to shoot the barrels, but the force of the kraken's tentacles knock her down and the gun out of her hands. My father cuts himself free, and just as the barrels start to fall, Jack tossed a pistol to my mother and she shot the barrels and stunned the kraken."
"Fascinating," Carina remarked, listening intently to what he had to say. She was still a little skeptical about the validity of the fantastic tales he was telling, but nevertheless she was slowly but surely opening her mind up to the supernatural forces in the world.
They heard a hearty laugh from behind them, and Henry and Carina turned to see Barbossa was laughing whilst he was tied to the foremast, Jack the Monkey resting atop his shoulder.
"What's so funny?" Henry asked.
"Do ye honestly think that's what happened that day?" Barbossa asked, "I know for a fact that it was Jack who shot at the kraken, not Ms. Swann, and with a rifle I might add."
"Mrs. Turner," Henry corrected, "And no, she told me that she's the one who shot at the kraken with a pistol. Besides, you weren't even there."
"Aye, we'll see about that. How's about a little wager to make things interestin', Mr. Turner?" Barbossa suggested.
"Alright, I'm game. A shilling?" Henry inquired.
"Better make it two," Barbossa flashed his teeth.
"You're on, old man," Henry replied with a smirk.
"Lass," Barbossa turned his head to Carina, "Would ye mind getting Pintel and Ragetti for me?"
"Sure, I guess," Carina replied, though she didn't exactly like being the errand girl for someone else's betting. Nevertheless, she walked towards the center of the ship and tried to get the two pirates' attention.
Barbossa turned his head as far as he could and watched as the girl walked away, and then he looked back towards Henry and asked, "You know, there's somethin' about that girl that strikes me as oddly familiar."
"What do you mean?" Henry asked, curious as to what Barbossa had in mind.
"I dunno, just a funny feelin', I guess," Barbossa remarked, "Does she have a brother that I killed?"
Henry raised an eyebrow, finding Barbossa's statement to be rather odd. Because he couldn't think of anything else better to respond with, he said, "I- I don't think she ever said anything about a brother."
"What's her name again?" Barbossa asked.
"Carina Smyth," Henry replied, "Smyth spelled with a 'y,' I think."
Barbossa's face retained it's inquisitive expression, but Henry did notice it go stiff for a brief moment, and then a devilish grin formed upon his face and Henry saw the pirate's yellow, scurvy-ridden teeth.
"Smyth, ye say?" Barbossa asked, though his grin suggested that he had something in mind beyond the scope of their conversation, "Not a truly common name if ye ask me, though I might have known some people by that name."
Henry looked at Barbossa with a perplexed expression. He had no idea what about what he had said had put the pirate into a pleasant mood. Henry quickly realized that it was best not to indulge Barbossa any longer on this subject.
Just as if on cue, Carina walked back over to the bow area with Pintel and Ragetti following close behind.
"You be wantin' us for sumthin' then, Captain Barbossa?" Pintel asked.
"Ah, yes gents, me and the Turner boy here were having a little chat here about things that happened, and we were wondering if ye could recount the day the kraken attacked the Pearl for us," Barbossa inquired, "Namely, what stopped the beast from killing the crew."
"Well, there was that cannon fire towards the start that made it angry," Ragetti began, "and then we loaded powder barrels into a net and Captain Jack shot it with a musket."
"Ha!" Barbossa exclaimed, "I knew I was right. Alright, lad, pay up."
Henry barely registered what Barbossa said just there, for he was still trying to wrap his head around what made Barbossa so pleased a few moments ago. What exactly was he playing at here?
"Lad?" Barbossa asked after a few moments, "The money, if ye could."
Fumbling around his pockets, Henry pulled out two shillings and extended his hand. Jack the Monkey then reached out with his tiny primate hand and snatched the two pieces from the boy's grasp. He placed them in Barbossa's coat pocket, and the pirate chuckled while he did so.
"I got one up on ye, didn't I boy?" Barbossa inquired.
"I suppose I should've seen that one coming," Henry said, his eyes going up to face Barbossa's.
Barbossa merely laughed in response, "Nay, I didn't expect you to. You'll find that there's a lot of things ye don't know about Jack Sparrow."
As he finished his statement, Barbossa winked with his left eye, away from the view of Carina, Pintel, and Ragetti. Henry just stood there, and he didn't know what to make of all of this.
Henry quickly walked away from the area where Barbossa was tied up, and then started to lean over the port side of the Pearl as he tried to gather his thoughts. Carina saw him suddenly take off, and followed after him wondering what was up.
"Something the matter, Henry?" Carina asked, and Henry turned his head to face her and said, "I'm alright."
Truth was, he was still puzzled at what was going on. What about Carina had caught Barbossa's eye?
"You know, at this rate we should have the Trident in no time," Henry said, quickly shifting the subject away from him.
"I hope so," Carina said, leaning against the side with Henry, "Otherwise, we risk never being able to find it again. I know now you need it to save your father, and I want to help you do it."
"Thanks, Carina," Henry said, and then there it was again. There was this feeling that came around in the past few days of knowing Carina, and Henry wasn't quite sure what it was. It was clear to him that she was both brilliant and beautiful, but there was something beyond that. Something he couldn't easily describe in words.
Hoping to steer clear of that subject as well for the time being, Henry looked around him at the masts and sails of the Black Pearl and how the afternoon sun reflected off of them.
"She's a magnificent ship, isn't she?" Henry asked aloud.
"Yes, she is," Carina replied, staring at the components herself, "You want to know something weird, Henry?"
"What?" Henry asked her.
"I don't know what it is, but this ship... it feels like I've been here before," Carina said, "Like, in another lifetime maybe. It seems silly, but... it feels like I'm on my father's ship and we're off to find the Trident together. If only he could be here now..."
This caught Henry off guard.
"I thought you said your father was an astronomer?" Henry asked, surprised at this new bit of information.
"Well, not exactly," Carina began, "Astronomy was his passion and he dedicated his life to finding the Trident, but he made his living as a sailor for the East India Trading Company."
Jack was still at the wheel. It was midafternoon now, and he was still overjoyed at helming his beloved Pearl once more. He missed the feeling of the smoothed wooden wheel beneath his fingers, the spray of the ocean cooling his face and engulfing his senses, the way the ship moved with such unnatural speed, the sound of the wind whipping against the black sails, and just being in control of his life for a change.
For the first time in years, Jack Sparrow was happy.
"Oh, my darling..." Jack spoke aloud, caressing the wheel like he would a woman's cheek, "I'll never leave you again. Never."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Gibbs standing at his left side, raising an eyebrow at his Captain's behavior.
"Go find your own ship, judgy," Jack shot at his first mate with a furrowed brow.
"It's not that, Captain," Gibbs began, "I feel a frightful bad shift in the winds."
"What do you mean? We've got the Pearl," Jack tried to justify. As far as he could see, Lady Luck was on their side at the moment.
"Aye, that we do, but... it's this business with Salazar that's spellin' ill with me," Gibbs said, "You don't even know if the Trident will kill him, nevermind that we'll find it in time."
"We are going to find it, mate," Jack reassured his close friend, "And once we do, that Spanish git will be wiped clean from the face of the Earth and we live to fight another day."
"But that's the problem, Jack. I don't think we'll live to fight another day," Gibbs began, causing Jack to look at him with concern, "It's just this feelin' I have in me gut, that what luck we have left's been spent already."
"Is this out of a fear of Salazar, or a lack of faith in me?" Jack questioned sternly, "I know what I want, and I know what I have to do."
"If that be true, then use your compass to find the island. You don't need the girl's star charts," Gibbs said.
"Ah, now I get it," Jack said, stepping away from the wheel towards Gibbs for a moment, "It's a lack of trust in the girl, isn't it?"
"I have to be frank, she doesn't inspire much confidence in me, what with you readily trusting her in your current state-of-mind and all," Gibbs said, but immediately afterwards he wish he hadn't.
Jack scoffed, "My current state of mind... you know, for the first time in years, I'm actually doing something worthwhile. I don't feel worthless for a change and feel like I have purpose. I'm in control of my ship and of my destiny. I am back, Mr. Gibbs, and if that somehow hasn't registered through that mutton-chopped head of yours, we have plenty of lifeboats."
Gibbs stood in a stunned silence for a moment, registering what Jack had just said to him. After a lengthy pause, Gibbs spoke up and said, "Aye, Captain. My apologies. But I am tired and tired of always bettin' on bad odds with you, and with nothin' to show for it. We're a dyin' breed Jack, and you know it. It's not just Barbossa; more and more pirates that care for an idea beyond themselves are disappearin'. I want to have done something meaningful with my life. I don't want to be known as a mere footnote in a history book."
"Neither do I, Joshamee," Jack said, placing a hand on his shoulder, and Gibbs gave a half-hearted smile to his Captain. Afterwards, he turned and walked down from the helm and towards the middle of the ship, pulling his hip flask out of his vest and began to drink.
Jack sighed. He didn't mean to lose his temper with his first mate and closest friend, but for the longest time he had been in this rut and had finally managed to climb out of it. The Pearl was his once more, Barbossa could not interfere, and the Trident of Poseidon was within his reach. Things could not be better.
But then he considered what Gibbs had said, about his mind still being erratic. He admits to himself he's placing an unusual amount of trust in Carina, a girl he met less than a week ago, but for the life of him he can't understand why. What reason did he have to trust her? Why was he so confident that she was being truthful about the Trident when he didn't even know her whole name? Had he perhaps been so far gone that he was desperate at this point to achieve any sort of satisfaction, true or not?
Perhaps it was due to the fact that she reminded him of-
No. Don't be silly, Jack. She's gone, and there's nothing you can do about it. Going after the Trident is just jogging your memory and you're seeing things.
Yeah, that was it. He was just being silly was all, nothing to fret about.
For the first time since taking it back from Barbossa, Jack pulled the compass off of his belt and held the closed navigational instrument in his palm. Sometimes he forgot just how useful this thing was, and how all other compasses paled in comparison as it only gave you one, unmoving direction.
North.
The Brightest Star-
Shut it, Jack. You're being stupid now.
Jack slowly lifted the lid off the compass and looked down upon the device. How could he ever have betrayed such a priceless valuable, especially when it had always pointed him to what he wanted most?
Well, everything except-
His own mental reprimand was cut short by the fact that the red needle inside was spinning in circles, not pointing in one constant direction. This had happened before, back when Jack had been in debt to Davy Jones and he didn't know what he wanted. But Jones was dead now, and Jack had the Pearl back under his control. The only thing he should want right now is the Trident of Poseidon so that he can kill Salazar before he kills him.
But the needle kept on spinning.
Jack closed the compass' lid and his eyes for a brief moment, and started to mentally chant I want the Trident, I want the Trident, I want the Trident as much as he could, thinking deeply on what he wanted.
When Jack opened the lid of the compass again, the needle was still spinning.
Maybe it wasn't working because he had betrayed it. But if that were the case, what could he do to regain its loyalty?
Jack sighed, and then placed the compass back on his belt, took the Pearl's wheel again, and continued to sail into the distance.
Hours had passed, and the early signs of darkness had started to creep up as the sky was now a brilliant shade of magenta and the golden sun began to set on the horizon.
Henry had decided to help scrub the cannons below with some of the other crew, leaving Carina with no one to talk to for the time. She made her way above deck, and took in the view of the sunset, appreciating the beauty of such a thing.
She looked towards the stern of the Pearl, and saw the encroaching darkness behind them, along with the first few stars to appear this evening.
There wasn't much time left.
Carina strode her way over towards the helm where she saw Jack still at the wheel. He had refused relief from everyone who approached him about taking over piloting duties, thinking that the best hands were his own. Of course, he hadn't been in command of the Pearl for near twenty years now, so she figured he was just making up for time lost.
Nevertheless, she knew that they needed to find the Trident and soon. She needed to make sure they were following the correct course otherwise they'd never be able to find the route again.
When she reached the helm, Carina said, "Hello, Jack. How are you faring?"
"Just marvelous, Carina, just marvelous," Jack replied with a smile, "At this rate we'll be able to find the Trident in no time. We're making double speed that we were the days prior. You did say five days, right?"
"I did," Carina answered, "I must say, this ship is something else, Captain Sparrow."
"Oh, you have no idea," Jack said, "Stick around a while longer after we get the Trident and you'll see what she's capable of."
Carina swallowed. Her plan still was to distance herself from pirates once the Trident was found, but she had to admit that she would miss this adventure she was on. Sure, it wasn't exactly her ideal scenario, but the past few days had been enlightening to say the least (especially in regards to the supernatural), and she had made some new friends along the way.
"I would be flattered, but this life isn't for me," Carina said.
"I keep tellin' you you've got the fortitude for this sort of thing, lass," Jack said, "Aren't you going to consider it at the very least?"
"No," Carina tried to say firmly, but there was a moment when she felt like something caught in her throat when she said it.
"'Tis a shame, really," Jack said, "I'd have thought for sure you of all people would want to be free."
"It's not that, Jack, it's just..." Carina sighed.
"Just what?" Jack pressed.
"Less than a week ago, I was serving drinks at a tavern, getting by on my own while trying to become an astronomer, and now here I am standing on a pirate ship raised from a bottle, having been wrongfully accused of witchcraft, and being hunted by the Royal Navy and ghosts while trying to find the legendary weapon of the Greek sea god," Carina stopped to take a breath, "Let's just say this is not how I pictured my life would turn out."
Jack laughed in response, and then said, "Life rarely works out the way we want it to, lass. That's why it's life."
"Hmph," Carina replied, crossing her arms and leaning against the rail of the helm. She looked up to see that the sun was halfway down now. More stars had revealed themselves, including the constellation that would take them to the island.
"Can I have a go at the wheel?" Carina asked, craning her head towards Jack, who in turn gave her a look of quizzicality and concern.
"Why?" he asked as if she had something nefarious in mind for his beloved Pearl.
"Captain, you and I both know that I'm the one that knows the way to the Trident," Carina said, straightening herself up, but Jack still didn't look like he was ready to hand over the wheel so readily to her.
"I promise I won't cause any damage," Carina said, walking over towards the wheel and placing her left hand on one of the handles.
Jack stood there for a moment, looking from Carina to her grasp on the Pearl's wheel. A part of him felt afraid of giving up control of the Pearl, because he felt that if he did that he would lose her again. But at the same time, he knew that if he didn't, he could very well lose any hope of finding the Trident of Poseidon, and with it goes the only means he had of stopping Salazar.
"Fine," Jack said after a few moments, letting his grip on the Pearl's wheel go very slowly and very reluctantly. He stepped aside as Carina rolled up her sleeves, placed her right hand on the opposite part of the wheel, and stepped in front of it. The Black Pearl was now under her control.
Carina turned the wheel slightly to port, and then straightened it out again once she got into the direction she wanted to. She appeared to be doing it with relative ease, Jack noted.
"Have you ever helmed a ship before, lass?" Jack inquired.
"Uh, yes, actually," Carina replied, "My uncle took me sailing a few times when I was a little girl. Sometimes when the weather and tide were good enough, I stood on top of a stool and he'd let me steer the ship for a few minutes."
"Sounds very lovely," Jack noted, smiling at the thought of Carina as a child attempting to steer the wheel of a ship. He vaguely recalls something like that from his own childhood, when he remembers trying to steer his father's ship near Madagascar.
That had been long before he ran away from home. Before he had met her.
"He also taught me some of the parts of the ship, though I must admit I'm a pleb when it comes to nautical terminology," Carina confessed.
"Really? Someone as bookish as you couldn't figure it out?" Jack joked.
"Sailing wasn't really my forte," Carina defended, "Besides, my uncle died before he could show me more. The next time I went on a ship, I was a passenger bound from London to Port Royal."
There was a heavy silence following that, and Carina exhaled deeply through her nose.
"Oh," Jack said solemnly, "I'm sorry to hear that."
"Don't be," Carina said, "He and my mother never really got along anyway, not since my father died. They were brother and sister, you see."
"Can I asked what happened that caused a riff, or is that overstepping my boundaries?" Jack asked.
"Well," Carina began, "I think she felt he was responsible for my father dying, and whenever he came to visit she would hardly speak to him. But I know that my father died searching for the Trident, and I never hated him for that."
"You've certainly done a better job at that than me," Jack said, his mind drifting back towards when he was an angry youth, all the feelings of neglect and embarrassment he once felt in regards to his own father.
"So," Jack said after a few moments of silence, "are there parts of a ship that you can identify?"
"A fair few, I'd say," Carina spoke, pointing her finger out towards different sections of the ship, "This is the wheel, where we're standing is the helm, behind us is the stern, that column of wood right there is the main mast, the one in front of it is the foremast, that area there is the bow, and... that's port and that's starboard, yes?"
Jack looked where she was pointing, and saw that she had identified port as "starboard" and starboard as "port."
"Actually," Jack corrected, raising his finger, "that would be port, and that would be starboard, savvy?"
"Oh," Carina said before laughing at her own mistake, "I guess I still have much to learn then, don't I?"
"In time, you'll get it," Jack remarked, laughing with her, and then he started looking out into the distance and noticing that the sun had completely gone down, and the sky was beginning to be lit up with thousands upon thousands of stars which glistened across the now-black seas. The crew had decided it was high time to start lighting the lamps so they could see the ship around them.
"It's a beautiful sight isn't it?" Jack remarked, but Carina didn't respond. He turned his attention back towards her, and she saw that she was now holding a small, leather-bound book in her hands and staring at the pages inside inte-
Jack froze.
He knew that design. The faded brown leather. The ridges on the front cover. An open gap in the front where something once lay.
The last he saw of this book, it was at the bottom of the ocean.
And now it was in Carina's hands.
No. No, that couldn't be it. It can't be. It's not possible. I sunk the cursed thing.
Without a moment's notice, Jack reached his arm out and snatched the book from Carina's hands.
"Hey! What are you doing!? Give that back!" Carina shouted at him, but Jack wasn't listening to her. He continued to stare at the cover of the book he now had in his grasp. He turned it over in his hands multiple times, observing every stitching and every page, just to make sure that he wasn't going mad at this very moment.
But he wasn't.
This was Galileo's diary.
How had she gotten it?
"Where did you get this?" Jack asked in a low voice, his tone dead-serious and never once taking his eyes off the book.
"It's mine, give it back!" Carina demanded, extending her arm out towards Jack. But Jack didn't move a muscle.
"No..." Jack spoke, "it's mine."
"Like hell it is!" Carina continued to argue.
"This is the diary of the astronomer Galileo Galilei," Jack began, turning towards Carina but his eyes still locked on the diary, "within it he gives a detailed account of his life's work and his research in finding the Trident of Poseidon. On the cover was a ruby, red as blood, and I would not soon forget it. This book was sinking to the bottom of the ocean off the coast of Cuba the last time I saw it. So I will ask you once more, girl..."
He lifted his gaze to meet Carina's, and he saw that there was a level of fear in her blue eyes.
"Where. Did. You. Get. The book?" Jack paused for emphasis, and awaited Carina's response. But with every moment that she didn't respond, Jack felt his temper rising inside and didn't know how long he'd be able to keep it inside.
"That book was left to me by my father," Carina finally managed to blurt out, her hands on the wheel starting to shake, "He was a man of science and sought to claim the Trident of Poseidon."
"Your father, eh? Look what good it's done him," Jack spoke with bitterness in his voice, "He's dead as well as a thief."
At that moment, without warning or hesitation Carina's right fist made contact with Jack's jaw, sending his face in the opposite direction. Jack was caught completely by surprise, and he began to rub at the pain in the left side of his jaw. Any more force and she could've broken it.
"Don't you dare speak about my father like that!" Carina bellowed, "He was a better man than you'll ever know!"
Jack slowly turned his head towards Carina, still rubbing his jaw. But it was apparent that anger he had built up inside was beginning to boil over.
"You apologize for that, right now!" Jack shouted fiercely, to which Carina shouted back, "No! I will not have the good name of my father be defiled by the mouth of a filthy pirate!"
Carina tried to make a grab for the diary, but Jack held his arm back to prevent her from getting it.
"Give it back! That diary is my birthright!" she shouted at him, "My mother gave that to me when I was just a girl!"
"I don't care!" Jack said coldly, "This book is mine, and I'm taking it back! Do you know what I lost in pursuit of the damn Trident!? Do you, girl!?"
"I lost my father!" Carina shouted at him, "He died for this!"
"I don't know who your father was," Jack spoke in a lower tone than before, but the anger was still present, "I don't even know who you are."
Carina took a sharp breath.
"Carina Smyth," she said proudly, "Daughter of Jonathan and Margaret Smyth."
Silence.
Dead silence.
Jack didn't say a word.
Or move a muscle.
His heart stopped beating for what felt like an eternity.
But his weathered, brown eyes were locked onto her ocean blue ones.
And that's when he finally saw it.
Saw her.
She looked so much like him.
Except for the eyes.
Those were hers.
No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.
It isn't true.
It can't be true.
It can't be true.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Carina asked, her frightened expression not going away from her face.
Jack was brought out of the trance he was in, but his eyes remained locked on hers.
On her beautiful, blue eyes.
"Carina," the name escapes his lips, almost a whisper, as its true meaning dawns upon him, "The Brightest Star of the North."
Carina just kept staring at Jack, her expression unmoving, as she eventually said, "You know your stars?"
Jack's face remained in the state of shock he was currently in, and then managed to get out, "I'm a pirate. I always know how to find my way."
Galileo's diary slipped out of his grasp and onto the deck floor near them. Carina saw this and picked the book up, placing it back inside her makeshift pouch at her side, and was surprised to see that Jack didn't much care about the book then.
He tried to back away, but his legs felt like they were made of lead and he could hardly move away. Carina then looked away from Jack back out towards the sea before her as she handled the Pearl's wheel.
Jack continued to stare at her as he made his way off the helm towards the starboard rail. But with every step he took down the short steps, it felt like he was about to buckle under his own weight and collapse right onto the deck.
It's not possible. There's no way it can be true. It's some sort of depraved joke, isn't it? It has to be.
Jack starts breathing heavily through his mouth as he makes his way to the side of the ship, placing both of his hands along the rail and looking out into the blackness of the evening. He saw some clouds in the distance, and he could hear the thunder from all the way off.
He feels sick to his stomach, and for a moment he thinks he's going to throw up all over his deck. His mind still trying to piece together what had just happened.
Jonathan Smyth.
That was the name of a dead man.
Dead in all but body.
Who now roamed the world with a different name.
He doesn't want to believe it. It's ludicrous and he knows it. He wants to deny it because there is no possible way that it is true. It just can't be.
Jack's eyes drift down to the compass at his belt. Dare he risk it?
With sweat clinging to his face and his heart beating out of his chest, Jack takes the compass from his belt, and slowly opens the lid.
The needle is not moving in rapid circles. Instead, it's pointing in what would be Southwest on a normal compass.
But this isn't a normal compass.
Jack slowly turns to his right, until the compass moves from "Southwest" to "North."
He then looks upward. He sees Carina standing there at the wheel, eyes on the horizon. The compass is pointing right at her.
It was pointing true North.
Closing his compass, Jack stood with his mouth agape as he continued to stare at this girl that he had never met until a week ago. A girl that had amazed him with her brain and her skill. A girl who was beautiful beyond compare.
It was at this moment that Jack could not deny the truth to himself any longer.
She was his daughter.
Jack was fairly certain he had a heart-attack at that moment. As the realization of who, and what, she really was set in, he felt his legs give out from under him, and Jack had to grip onto the starboard rail to pick himself back up.
He pulled himself to his feet, and had to avert his gaze away from his d- her, until he could get a grip on himself.
Jack Sparrow wasn't a father. That wasn't him. He's a pirate and a rascal and a selfish scallywag that never cared for anyone but himself his entire life. There was no way he was anyone's father, especially not a wonderous creature such as her.
But Jonathan Smyth was a father.
That part made even less sense.
How could her parents possibly Jonathan and Margaret Smyth if...
Unless...
Cutler lied. He lied about Maggie. He lied about everything. He kept the truth from me.
Jack turned himself to look up towards Carina. She wasn't facing him, but he could see her piercing blue eyes from where he was.
They were Maggie's eyes. Full of love and warmth and everything good in this world.
But in her eyes, Jack could also almost see the icy, cold, greyish-blue eyes, full of anger and contempt, that had once belonged to Cutler Beckett. Her uncle, he figured.
There was no denying that this girl was his. But how?
Cutler had lied to him about Maggie. She must've been pregnant when Jack left. And he lied to his face about it. To discourage him from any hope of coming back.
Jack never knew he even had a child.
He had ventured far and across the globe, travelled to long and forgotten islands, found cursed treasure, fought against a Kraken, discovered the Fountain of Youth, encountered mermaids, escaped from Davy Jones' Locker, fought the Flying Dutchman during a maelstrom, seen all manner of white beaches and glorious sunsets, and seen more matter of the bizarre and supernatural than any sane person would ever see during their lifetimes.
She was the most beautiful and terrifying thing he had ever seen in his entire life.
Jack should've been with her growing up. He should've been with Maggie throughout her pregnancy, been there to support her during birth, staying closer to home to raise their daughter together, watching her grow up, taking her over to school, celebrating birthdays and Christmas together, and giving her a bright and secure future.
But he hadn't been with her.
Jack had been off in the Caribbean and beyond, pirating and doing all other ill-manner of things, all to aggrandize himself. He spent time running up debts with cutthroats, drinking himself senseless, enjoying the pleasurable company of tavern wenches, thinking that the only thing he loved in this world was the Pearl, and always trying to run away from his problems.
But his past had finally caught up with him in the most unexpected of ways.
He had a daughter.
His life suddenly had meaning. The past few years, he's been searching for purpose, and now he's discovered he has the greatest purpose of all.
Jack rolled up his right sleeve, looking down upon the sparrow tattoo and the pirate brand beneath it. He pulled back the right side of his shirt to see the two marks where bullet holes had torn through his flesh. And then, slowly, he rolled up his left sleeve and he saw the irregularly-shaped, self-inflicted scar.
It's the Trident. More specifically, it was the route to find it.
He pushed all memory of the Trident out of his mind after what happened, and subsequently forgot what this scar meant.
He had only acknowledged it once, twenty years ago, to Elizabeth. Barbossa had left them marooned on Rumrunner's Isle whilst he took Will back to Isla de Muerta. She asked if there was any truth to the stories of him. She doubted that he had ever faced adversity in his life prior.
He showed her his scars. He said there was no truth at all.
"Maggie..." Jack speaks in a hoarse whisper to himself, "Maggie... I'm sorry..."
He closes his eyes and he finally remembers.
He remembers it all.
"Where is he?" Beckett asks the sentry in the hallway.
"Down the hall, third cell on your left," the sentry replies, and Beckett steps towards the identified cell.
There's a foul odor that makes him cringe. Kingston's prison was befitting of who it held.
"Open the door," he orders the guards standing outside his cell, and one of the guards unlocked the heavy iron door that kept the occupant isolated. Beckett stepped inside and looked down at the wretch before him.
He was slumped up against the wall, wearing nothing more than pants and a long shirt, as was prison regulations. His hair, usually kept clean and in a ponytail, was now black, grimy, unkempt, and extended down past his shoulders. His clean face was now covered with a wild, mangy beard, and the man was covered from head to toe in filth in one way or another. His eyes looked bloodshot, he looked sickly and underfed, he had odd bits of straw clinging to his clothing, and his face looked gaunt.
"Congratulations on your promotion, Admiral Beckett," he spoke in a hoarse, crackly voice. This lacked any of the conniving wit or playful charm that he usually had, "Come here to gloat?"
Beckett sighed and sat down on a small stool inside the cell that he thought would give out from under him.
"We both know why I'm here," Beckett said.
"Come to make sure that I get one extra straw in my pillow? Or are you upping my rations from three peanuts a day to four?" Jack mocked him, but again, the humorous inflection he had was absent.
"Where's the cargo?" Beckett asked.
"Cargo? I don't know what you're talking about," Jack said, "Oh! You mean the people that you forced me to haul across the Atlantic!"
"They were under the ownership of the East India Trading Company, pending transaction, and you chose to set them free," Beckett conveyed, "Why?"
"Because people aren't cargo, mate," Jack said, trying hard to smirk at Beckett but finding the muscles in his lips unable to do so.
"Do you have any idea what that cost me, Jack?" Beckett sternly questioned.
"Cost you? You're not the one that's been languishing in a prison cell for months," Jack shot at him, but without warning Beckett backhanded him, and his head hit against the wall to his right.
"I trusted you Jack, and you betrayed me," Beckett said. But Jack retorted, "HA! Betrayal, that's a good one."
"You think this is funny? You think I wanted any of this to happen?" Beckett fired back, "I entrusted you with something, and-"
"You didn't entrust it to me at all, liar. If you had, you would have told me what I was hauling before I set out," Jack said bitterly. If he had the strength, he would throw himself at Beckett right now and choke the life out of him.
"I should've known better than to hire you. You, the bastard son of Edward Teague and Laura Smyth, the former a murderous buccaneer and the latter a disgrace to her otherwise noble family," Beckett belittled Jack, "But, I suppose that's my cross to bear."
"Don't you dare say another word against my family, Cutler," Jack threatened, despite not being in a position to fight back.
Beckett looked away, and the two men didn't speak to each other for a long pause.
"I know what I did, and I'm not ashamed of it," Jack finally said, "If you're going to execute me for doing the right thing, then so be it. At least I won't have a guilty conscience."
Beckett took off his hat and sighed.
"My only regret is leaving Maggie for good," Jack said, and with that Beckett raised his cold, blue eyes to look at him. Jack then saw that there was a very mournful gaze in his expression.
"That's the other thing I came here to tell you, Jack," Beckett began, looking towards the ground.
"What? What is it?" Jack asked.
"Maggie... she..." Beckett began, his voice cracking up, "... she caught a fever shortly after you left London. She died."
Jack's face went blank. His lip was trembling. Tears were welling up in his eyes.
She can't be gone.
She was fine when he left.
He was going to come back once he was done with his job, and they were going to start a family together.
"No..." Jack brought his knees to his chest and hugged them closely to him. He let his face drop to his knees, continuously spouting off cries of, "No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no..."
"I'm sorry, Jack," Beckett managed to say, and tears had formed in his eyes as well, "I know you loved her. As did I."
Jack didn't respond. He was continuing to sob into his knees, overcome with grief with what he just learned.
His wife was dead. Maggie was dead. His precious pearl was gone.
And his mind had snapped.
Beckett got up slowly from the stool, placing his hat atop his head and trying to regain his composure. He knocked on the cell door, and the guards opened it so he could step out. He merely nodded to the guards, and they went into the cell.
Beckett stood in the hallway, trying as hard as he could to remove all emotion from himself. But he knows what he did, and what he was about to do. He didn't like it one bit, but he knew it was necessary.
The guards stepped outside of the cell, holding Jack by his arms and dragging him by his knees across the prison hallway. Beckett followed after him.
They had loaded him onto the HMS Endeavor, Beckett's personal flagship, and carried him away out to sea. After what seemed like a few days of travel, they dropped anchor in the middle of the ocean, with no land in sight.
Two guards brought Jack to the top deck from his cell, his arms chained together so that he wouldn't try to escape. But Jack was so distraught that he didn't even speak the entire time he was on board the Endeavor.
Jack looked up around him and saw that he was surrounded by armed guards. Beckett was standing in his Admiral's uniform, with Mercer standing at his side. There was what looked like a fire lit inside a metal bucket, with a poker of some kind sticking in it.
He turned his head towards starboard, and he saw it.
The Wicked Wench was anchored and abandoned, sitting right next to the Endeavor with its port side facing them.
There was an officer that had a piece of parchment that he unrolled, and he cleared his throat.
"Jonathan Smyth," he began, "Due to your willful violation of Royal Decree and committing of crimes against the Crown, among these including treason, destruction of property, obstruction of justice, and piracy..."
Piracy.
That was not true.
He wasn't a pirate.
"... you are, on this day, sentenced to be branded as such for your actions, and subsequently hung by the neck until dead. May God have mercy on your soul."
Beckett pulled the poker out of the fire, revealing a glowing hot 'P' at the end of it.
The guards removed his shackles, and the one holding his right arm pulled back his sleeve and held his wrist in place.
Jack did not resist.
He barely elicited a whimper when Beckett pressed the flaming hot brand to his wrist.
None of it mattered to him anymore.
Beckett pulled the brander off, and Jack saw the bright red mark that was burned into his arm.
He was a pirate. Just like his father.
All because he tried to do the right thing.
Beckett set the poker back down into the fire, and then turned to Mercer and said, "Prepare to fire incendiary charges."
Jack lifted his head up in surprise, and then said, "What?"
"Prepare to fire incendiaries!" Mercer relayed the order to the men, and the soldiers on the ship scurried over to the cannons both above and below decks.
"What are you doing!?" Jack asked worriedly.
Beckett turned to face Jack and said, "Regrettably, the Wench will suffer the same fate as it's Captain. It's not worthy to be sailed by any honest gentlemen because it's been defiled by a pirate."
Jack looked out towards the Wench, it's sleek white paint reflecting against the afternoon sun. It was such a beautiful ship.
It was all he had left.
"No, Cutler, please! I beg you, don't hurt my ship!" Jack pleaded with Beckett. But Beckett turned his back to him and watched as the crew prepared to fire upon the Wench.
"On my command," Beckett ordered.
"No, please! I'll do anything! Cutler! CUTLER!" Jack bellowed.
"Fire," Beckett said plainly.
"FIRE!" Mercer relayed the order.
The sounds of dozens of cannons firing filled the air with a deafening boom as the Wench took in the broadside from the Endeavor. Soon enough, the incendiary charges combusted on the surface of the Wench. Fire spread rapidly, engulfing the ship, burning the painted-white wood into a charred black.
"NOOOO!" Jack called out, and with a sudden rush of adrenaline he broke free of the grasp of the guards holding him to the ground. He started sprinting across the deck, time seemingly having slowed down while he ran, and he continued to watch in horror at the sight of his precious ship on fire.
He kept on running, and Mercer saw that he had broken free. He then drew his pistol.
Jack made it to the edge of the Endeavor, prepared to dive into the water and try to save the Wench before it sunk.
BOOM!
A bullet passed right through his chest, very close to where he had been shot months prior. Clutching at his chest and howling in pain, Jack found that he couldn't breathe. The bullet had passed right through his right lung. He started to gasp for breath, but he couldn't. He was getting lightheaded, everything started to go black...
Jack stumbled and fell over the starboard rail of the Endeavor into the ocean.
Mercer had his pistol drawn and pointed at where Jack was standing, but he hadn't pulled the trigger. He looked to his left to see Beckett holding his own pistol, smoke emanating from the barrel. Quickly, Mercer and Beckett made their way over to the rail, and they looked down and saw white foam where Jack had splashed down.
He didn't come back up.
Soon, the Wench was covered completely in flames, and began to sink to the bottom of the sea.
"Captain goes down with his ship," Mercer remarked, but Beckett merely sighed in response, his eyes cold and unmoving.
"Begging your pardon, sir," Mercer began, "but why was it necessary to sink the ship?"
"To better sell the story," Beckett answered, "The record will show that Jonathan Smyth and his crew were attacked by pirates, and they sunk the HMS Wicked Wench in their ferocity."
"But why go through all the trouble of branding him if you were just going to kill him anyway?" Mercer inquired, "Why lie to him about-"
"Because, it would've only been cruel for me to tell him the truth before he died," Beckett said, "It would've given him false hope in his final moments. I wanted to make sure he was completely demoralized and sapped of any hope so he truly had nothing to live for. That's why he could not know about the child."
Beckett put his pistol away, and then looked out into the ocean where Jack had fallen, never to rise again.
"It was nothing personal, Jack," Beckett remarked, "It was just good business."
The Endeavor sailed away from the area, and Jack's lifeless body continued to drift to the bottom of the sea.
Hours passed, and night had fallen. The moonlight reflected like a spirit over the ocean. All was silent.
And then, there was a rumbling. It scared the nearby fish away, and white foam formed at the ocean's surface.
Without warning, something monstrous shot up from the bottom, a wooden structure that resembled a set of nasty pointed teeth. The water continued to splash, and soon an entire ship had risen out of the water. Its sails were covered in seaweed, the cannons were covered in all manner of crustaceans, and the deck boards were rotted and splintered.
On the deck lay a man on his front, who looked like he was dead from his apparent lack of movement. But soon, he started coughing up water. He lifted his head up and continued coughing, and then he reached a hand to his chest where he had been shot hours earlier.
The wounds had healed. He could breathe again. He was alive.
Jack looked around him, and saw the decrepit ship that he was currently on. He was starting to panic, because this didn't look like an ordinary ship. In fact, it looked like something out of a nightmare.
He had heard stories about a ship like this, one that would find it's way to dead sailors in one way or another.
The Flying Dutchman.
Suddenly, Jack heard the sounds of heavy footsteps from all around him, and then he looked at all sides and saw that there were several monstrous-looking creatures surrounding him.
"AAAAHHHH!" he screamed as he backed up in terror. This was a nightmare, it had to be. This couldn't be real. He saw one figure that had a hammerhead shark's head, and another with the head of an amore eel. One looked like the shell of a crab, and there was one figure that looked somewhat human but it had a ship's wheel embedded in his back.
Jack backed up on his hands until he reached the edge, and he couldn't back up anymore. He was deathly terrified at this moment, and didn't know what they were going to do to him.
Suddenly, the creatures stopped approaching him, for they all heard the sounds of heavier footsteps. Every head aboard the Dutchman faced in the center of the large crowd, where the captain of the ship came into view.
One leg had a boot covered in crustaceans, the other looked like the leg of a crab. Looking upward, Jack saw that his blue uniform was also ragged and covered with even more crustaceans. His right hand was green and looked like octopus' tentacles clutching onto a very unusually shaped smoking pipe. His left arm was a giant crab's arm, and Jack noticed that his overcoat was hanging off of his shoulder. He looked towards the monster's face, and saw that his head resembled that of a squid, with the tentacles hanging from his face like an overgrown beard, and he was wearing a large faded blue captain's hat covered with algae. Strangely enough, his face almost looked human, except it was missing a nose, and those beady blue eyes seemed to be staring right through Jack's soul.
The monster started to walk closer to him, and Jack was absolutely terrified. He had never seen anything like this in his whole life, and he was scared at what was going to happen to him.
The monster got close to him, kneeled down, lit up his pipe, and took a long drag. He then removed the pipe, eyes locking directly onto Jack's, and then spoke to him with a thick Scottish accent.
"Do you fear death?"
He had struck a deal with Davy Jones that day, who would raise the Wicked Wench from the depths of the ocean and allow Jack to captain it for thirteen years, in exchange for a hundred years of servitude aboard the Flying Dutchman.
And from then on, he was a pirate.
Jack remembered everything.
Cutler lied to him. He told Jack that Maggie was dead. Not only was Maggie alive, but she had managed to have and raise a daughter. His daughter.
That lying bastard deserved to be at the bottom of the ocean for that alone. And he was.
Jack looked back over towards Carina, the shock of knowing the truth still with him. He just happened to run into his adult daughter after God-knows-how-many-years of not knowing that she even existed. Was the universe pulling another cruel joke on him? To just cross paths with her at random, and the first time they lay eyes on each other they're total strangers to one another, unaware of the connection by blood they share?
But now, here they were. They were finally united after so many years of not being together, and it was under circumstances neither of them would ever dream of.
The first time he should've laid eyes on her is when she was born. He should've been there every step of the way to love and support her as she grew up.
But he just had to be the hero, didn't he? He had to free those slaves to clear his conscience.
After thinking he had lost everything, Jack had vowed that he would never be the hero again. From that day forth, the only person he would look out for was himself. That was the day that Jonathan Smyth had died.
And Carina didn't know anything, did she? She believed that her father had died searching for the Trident of Poseidon as a good, honest sailor who obeyed the law, completely unaware of the fact that not only was he alive, but a pirate as well. Jack could only imagine the idea of him that she had built up in her mind, and if she discovered the truth then her world would shatter.
As much as it pained him, he knew that she could never know who he truly was. It didn't matter that he was her father, he couldn't do that to her. Especially not now.
And then it occurred to him: she could have died several times over the past few days and he hadn't even cared all that much. He had even wanted her execution in St. Martin to be first because he had lost his temper with her. If he had known then...
And she was in danger now. The Royal Navy and Salazar surely were in pursuit of them still, and if they caught up to them then her life was at risk. Jack felt like banging his head against a wall knowing that it was because of him that she was in danger. He had left Salazar cursed and vengeful, and would not stop until Jack was dead. Now she was at risk just as much as he was. It was all his fault.
Jack looked away from Carina, and walked over towards the bow while gripping onto the rail for support. He had to distance himself from her, as far as he could on board a ship anyway.
He had made it to the front of the ship and leaned over the edge, trying to get a hold of himself. While he was doing so, he heard the familiar sound of sinister laughter come out from behind him.
"What's wrong, Jack?" Barbossa asked in a mocking tone, "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"Not now, Hector," Jack spoke bluntly, facing away from him. This was not the time.
"You know, 'Smyth' is quite a unique name, as it happens," Barbossa continued to taunt.
"Hector, shut up," Jack said, his temper rising.
"Not a common spelling, but I think I once knew someone called Smyth," Barbossa continued, "What was his name?"
"Not another word," Jack said through gritted teeth.
"Ah, yes. I remember," Barbossa said while flashing a smile, "Jonathan Smyth. Now there's a man I remember from way back. I must admit, I'd have never pictured him to be father material-"
Jack lost his temper. With rage in his eyes, he reached for the pistol at his belt, spun around quickly, pointed it right at Barbossa and bellowed, "I SAID NOT ANOTHER FUCKING WORD, HECTOR!"
Barbossa's cocky grin quickly fell, replaced by a look of surprise and panic. He looked down at the barrel of the gun pointed towards him, and then looked up to Jack's face and saw the pure rage he was showing. His usual carefree spirit was gone, replaced by fuming anger and bloodlust at that very moment. Barbossa looked into Jack's eyes and he saw the cold, uncaring look he was giving him.
He had seen this look once before. Isla de Muerta. Right after Jack had shot him. That empty, unfeeling gaze he had given his mutinous first mate shortly before the icy cold hand of Death took hold of him.
But he had never seen him this angry before.
Barbossa looked back down at the pistol he was holding, and recognized this was the same gun Jack had used to kill him.
"Stop thinking you're better than me!" Jack shouted after many moments of silence, "You're not! Every time I've tried to live for myself, you've somehow managed to turn up and screw everything up! You stole the Pearl from me! She was never yours to begin with! You're the mutineer that took her away from me! You're not a captain because you never earned that title! Stop deluding yourself with the idea you can somehow beat me!"
Barbossa was terrified at Jack's outburst. He realized that he had gone way too far this time.
"Jack, I- I'm sorry," Barbossa managed to blurt, "I didn't know about C-"
"You even dare to say her name, or tell her about any of this, and I swear to God I'll kill you again," Jack snarled, thumbing back the hammer. Barbossa had intended to blackmail Jack with what he knew, but he saw that look in Jack's eyes and knew he wasn't bluffing about killing him.
After a few moments, Jack lowered his gun, uncocking the hammer and placing it back on his belt.
"How did you know?" Jack asked, having turned away from Barbossa again.
"Intuition," Barbossa replied, recognizing that the immediate threat was over, "She bares a striking resemblance to you, and her name was 'Smyth,' so I put two and two together and..."
Jack sighed, and Barbossa said, "I didn't know you had a wife, though."
"Would you tell me if you did?" Jack asked, but Barbossa was silent, "I thought not."
"Did you know about... her?" Barbossa asked, not daring to speak the girl's name aloud.
"No," Jack replied, "But she doesn't know either. She can never know."
"Aye, but is not tellin' her a guarantee she'll never learn?" Barbossa suggested, "A clever young woman like that is bound to figure it out sooner rather than later."
"There's no way she would believe it," Jack turned back towards Barbossa, "that she's the offspring of a wretched pirate like me."
With that, Jack walked away from the bow, leaving Barbossa alone while he was tied to the mast. He looked up at the helm to see Carina was still steering the ship, completely unaware of the truth of her origins.
"Jack," Henry's voice sounded out, and Jack turned to see that he had come up from below decks, "I heard shouting earlier, is something the matter?"
Jack placed a hand on Henry's shoulder, and looked him over. He looked so much like Will.
"I know he hasn't been in your life much, Henry," Jack began, his voice cracking with sadness, "but what you need to know is that your father was a better man... than I will ever be."
With that, he patted Henry on the shoulder, and the Turner boy looked up at Jack with a combined look of confusion and pity.
Jack walked away from Henry, leaned up against the edge of the ship, and started to let himself cry.
He was a father.
And he didn't deserve to be.
A/N: Whew! That one took a long time to write. And so quickly too! I swear these chapters keep getting longer and longer and I can't help myself sometimes. Well, here's hoping you enjoy it, length and all.
So yeah, I changed a fundamental element of the plot of the base film, where Jack Sparrow is now Carina Smyth's father instead of Hector Barbossa. The twist as it happened in the movie was so disappointing for me (and no, not because I lost a bet with a friend of mine for fifty bucks on what would happen), so I wanted to make it much more satisfactory.
The movie had lots of issues that killed it for me, Barbossa's "arc" being no exception. It felt contrived, forced, out-of-left-field, and took me completely by surprise and not in a good way since the film was doing nothing on Barbossa's end to set up the twist. It completely defies the character's nature of being a violent and manipulative pirate that never cared about anyone. Him just having a woman he loved out of nowhere after four-and-a-half films of him being a bad person through and through makes no sense to me whatsoever. Besides, you know they only included that so they had an excuse for Geoffrey Rush to not do anymore of these movies.
The other big reason for why I made this change is, if you notice in the film, Jack Sparrow has no character arc. He's completely devoid of anything that made him great in the other movies because the directors thought his whole character was dependent on humor and it suffered for it, not to mention the fact that Johnny Depp gave arguably the worst performance in his career in this movie. The thing about his character in the first three is that he was a good man hiding behind the façade of being a selfish, drunken pirate, who learns that he can't deny who he truly is. What I'm attempting to do at giving this character arc to Jack instead of Barbossa is that it fits in with what we know his character to be.
I could go on forever, but this chapter has enough words in it already. If you have any further questions about my mentality in crafting this story, please be sure to review/PM me, and I promise I will get back to you as soon as possible.
Anywho, I hope you all enjoyed the story, and next time we'll be venturing into what I promise to be a very thrilling climax.
Stay classy, everyone!
- Spent