Disclaimer: I don't own POTC. Simple as that.

AN: Alright, things are changing a bit. This has turned into a story due to a few reviews. If you don't like the idea, tell me, or protest, and I'll see what I can do to help, but I also have ideas that to link to how I changed it now. ALSO I would be eternally grateful if some people helped me with numbers. How long did Jack have his ship before he was mutinied? How long was it before he reclaimed the ship? THANKS FOR YE'RE HELP!

Jack's Daughter-The Tale Begins

Chap1-

I sighed, closing the diary over my hand. My gaze shifted over to the tallow candle that was burning brightly beside me. A smile flickered across my face as I watched the heated wax drip steadily into a pool at the candle's base. It was nearly time for my shift to start, and I felt my shoulders tense at the thought.

A few more moments, I thought, pulling my hand away from the covers of the book. Still smiling I trailed my fingers along the words inscribed on the front. My mind wandered as I thought of my ten year old self. I had been angry then, resentful, and certainly rash. I had been a child, denying the fact. I had died and been reborn. I had learned that Jack wasn't dead.

Sure, I hadn't seen Jack in years, but I knew, by subtle hints and flying rumors that he was alive. How, I didn't know, nor did I dare listen to any of the wild stories floating around. All that mattered was that he was alive and while he did not visit, he left signs on our doorstep. Books, rum, money, stolen items, some without any value but it was treasured all the same.

"Dannica!"

I shook my head, my memories shattering. Trust Mama to realize that I was going to be late. My chair scraped across the floor as I stood up, and watched my reflection in the mirror. I had grown from a child into the early stages of adulthood. My face was longer, thoughtful. I had Jack's eyes and his dark hair, but mine was curly, like Mama's. It wasn't a crazy tight curly, that surely would have driven me insane, but a nice, loose spiral touch.

Sighing, I pulled it back, tying it up with a piece of leather. I didn't know why I bothered, I would surely get rum or some other vile thing in it by the end of the night. And surely, I would return home and make another excuse. Mama didn't know where I worked, I thought it for the best.

"Dannica, did you hear me?"

"Yes Mamma," I called back. I turned my head in the mirror, watching the shadows play over my face. I decided I was pretty but I fell short before gorgeous. Aren't I vain?

Bending down, I blew out the candle, plunging the room into darkness. I didn't need it, I could see fine with the darkness. I skillfully navigated the strewn mess of the bedroom floor heading for the main room where I could make out a faint glow. I could hear the rocker creaking as Mama sat before a host of candles and worked on her needlepoint.

I felt Mama's eyes watch me as I left. She didn't say anything, I almost felt bad. We often didn't say anything to each other, the rift I had created at five had never healed. Not that there had been much effort to mend the bridge.

The Caribbean air was muggy, with the promise of rain. Sighing, I pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders, and absently tugged the top of my dress up. It wasn't as low as the one's the whores wore in the Inn, but it wasn't particularly comfortable. The drunk and dumb still got the wrong idea. Who was I to complain though? It was a job, paid fairly decent and it was easier and less dangerous to pick the pockets of drunk men. The latter, I tried to do as less as possible, but there were times, that I could not deny a little dishonesty. It was the Pirate's blood.

Tortuga was alive. Music, smashing bottles, thieving, murdering, roamed the night. I ignored it all, with the ease of someone who had lived in such a place their whole lives. People ignored me with much the same ease.

A fight was spilling out the Inn as I arrived. Shaking my head, I hopped over the battling contestants, and ignored the knives that they were trying to skewer each on. One less dead in Tortuga was hardly news but stopping it would only mean that I was the one dead and not the other way around. I was quite happy alive.

"There you are! And what are you wearing?"

I raised my eyebrows as the fat Innkeeper bustled over to me, skipping a dance around his employed whores. I figured he was talking about the shawl. "Just something to keep me warm."

"Well take it off!" he made a shooing motion. "And get to work! We're low."

Not like anyone would notice, I thought, but slid the shawl from my shoulder and tucked it behind the corner of the bar. "Eh Candy!" I called.

The woman who was sitting on counter spared me a moment's glare before she returned to her customer. I shook my head. "Forget it Candy, he's so drunk you'll be doing it on the floor."

Candy glared at me again, but she must have agreed to some point, because she shoved her dress back down and jumped off. The man shouted catcalls after her and even tried to follow. He landed face first on the ground and began to cry.

Shaking my head, I grabbed two tankard of rum and wove my out. Using my finely honed glare, I managed to evade the worst of the pinches and shouted suggestions that followed me. The others, I ignored.

"Over 'ere luv!"

I turned my head and let a little relief slip into my system. The man who had called was sitting at a quieter table, in front of a thick column that supported the shaky ceiling. He was wearing an odd hat that was dragged low over his eyes, as if he was hoping not to be recognized. Beads and odd assortments had been either woven or tangled into his beard.

"'Ere ya go!" I announced, letting my tongue slip into a more comfortable dialogue. Mama would have had skinned if she had heard me. I was about to go but then paused, turning back to them. "'Ave I met ye before?"

The man raised his eyes. "Don't think so luv. Now run off!" he made shooing gestures.

Smiling I left them, and bumped instantly into a young man's chest. "Excuse me!" I exclaimed backing up. I noticed his cheeks flare, and smirked. "You a eunuch?"

He spluttered, and gripping his sword handle tighter. "No!" he responded in the furious tone of a person who had had the question put to them many times

"Then don't be blushing like that 'round here, it gets ye unwanted attention," I warned him. "And that be worse." I nodded to the sword to emphasis my point, and stepped away.

"Thanks…" he trailed off as if expecting my name I was already gone.

I made my behind the bar again and grabbed a few empty tankards. I saw Candy was sitting on the bar again, pouting in the direction of the farthest corner. "What's wrong? Scarlet take over your territory again?"

"That ain't none o' yer business," she snapped, not turning to look at me.

I shrugged, and opened the tap on the rum keg. I watched as the dark liquid poured out in the tankard. I didn't know how men could drink the vile stuff. "Guess not. But there be a group o'er in the corner there. Ever seen 'im before?"

"Nay, but they be saying it be Jack Sparrow," Candy slid a side-glance at me.

Jack Sparrow. The sounds of shattering glass filled my ears. "Candy don't be lying like that!"

"I swear I ain't," she answered her lower lip curling down in displeasure. "What be wrong with ye? The boss'll kill ye now!"

Of course he would. I didn't care. I stared at my hands, they were shaking. Candy was new to Tortuga. She wouldn't know. People had stopped making fun of me years ago so it was no surprise if she didn't know of my connection to Jack.

Not thinking, I whirled around and rushed back out into the mayhem. This time I didn't glare as I was pinched and lewd comments followed me. I hurried back to the table and saw both men snap their heads up, indicating their conversation had been private. It mattered little to me.

My hands slammed down on the scared tabletop and for the first time I saw who the man was sitting with him. "Good evening Mr. Gibbs. Glad to see yer out of the pig sty," I said the comment absently, forgetting him almost instantly. Had it not been for the smell clinging to him, I would have.

"Luv."

The slow drawl that suddenly become clear in my mind, made my heart stutter and suddenly I was angry. He did not recognize his own daughter? He had never called me 'luv' it was always 'darling' was still darling. "How dare ye!" I screamed.

Jack's head lifted. "What's matter luv? Ye want a round with ol' Jack?" He was confused, sliding the glass away from him.

I was shaking, trying to hide my tears. They were of anger and hurt. "Don't ye recognize ye're own daughter Jack? Or has it been too long? Ye got others now? Ye don't care 'bout me no more?"

I saw the change on Jack's face. The shock then the slow spreading recognition as he pieced together my face to the little girl's he had last seen. "Ye changed darling," his voice was thick, almost normal. He had paled. "Sit down."

I couldn't. I was shaking. Tears ran down my face. Jack, my own father hadn't recognized me. "How could ye Jack! I'm ye're daughter!" I screamed, not caring if the whole Inn heard me. I snapped out of a hand, throwing rum in his face.

"Dannica! Now ye wait here! Dannica!"

I didn't care. I didn't care if I lost my job. Hurt thundered through me. Jack hadn't even been able to recognize me. I pushed aside patrons and ignored their curses. I needed to be free, I needed to be out. I heard footsteps behind me, but I knew they were not Jack's. Jack would have never followed me.