۞

"Look, Little Will," Jack said softly, holding the sword out before the tiny babe, nestled in his mother's arms. Elizabeth had settled down upon the trunk of a fallen tree, and Jack knelt down upon his knees before them, to talk to the child in a way as if Little Will were an adult. The captain leaned forward, his eyes intense and sparkling with excitement, as one slender hand caressed the repaired blade while the hilt was gripped in the other. All of those who were present turned their heads to listen to the captain as he showed his new prize to the baby...

"... your father fixed it. Is it not a thing o' beauty, lad? It is perfectly balanced, more perfectly than th' old blade ever was. Th' hilt always fit me hand t' perfection, which is a wonder, as me hands are a bit lean," he paused and said, in a rather haughty tone, "... they are strong, but lean...after all, I am Cousin Captain Jack Sparrow, but I digress..."

Jack turned to sword about so that the afternoon sun shone upon the shining finish of the strong steel, "..if ye were bigger I would let ye heft this... see how lovely th' shine is? Your father is a true craftsman, boy, an' it is a pity tha' we can't have a forge aboard th' Pearl..."

Elizabeth's eyes studied Jack's dark face... he was completely focused upon talking to the baby before him, as if there was no one else in the world around them. Strangely, it was if the wee babe were listening, as his tiny pink hands waved about, and his little eyes struggled to focus upon the captain's face. Jack's natural swaying motion and his husky, soft voice were mesmerizing to the child...

"... your papa was right.. it was a clean break, see?... ye can't even tell where it was... an' look how pretty it is. All shiny an' polished, hardly a nick in 'er!" The captain's eyes turned down to the sword in his hand, staring at it with almost a look of love, as he murmered, "... a treasure, it is... from a plain ol' everyday sword turned magically into one o' yer papa's works of art..." Jack held the shining blade up, out of the babe's reach but hoping that the child's eyes could behold that what Jack was holding in such high esteem, "... I always wanted one o' your papa's swords..."

William frowned a bit, as he heard these words... the sword was really just as plain as it always was, save for etching the initials "J. S." in the blade, but Jack thought it rivaled even the ceremonial sword that had been forged for James Norrington... the captain was marveling, simply because he had a sword in his hands that William had the capability to repair, balance perfectly to Jack's height and weight, and polish to a suitable shine. It was not perfect, to William's usual standards, but Jack thought it was wondrous. Amazing, William mused, that something as simple as this would please the captain so much... but perhaps Jack's ability to render such intricate carvings of Kraken tooth and pieces of fine wood were just as mundane to Jack, yet amazing and precious to William and his family.

Jack continued his conversation with the babe, as he repeated, "... I always wanted one o' your papa's swords..." He kept admiring the highly polished blade, then looked back up at Little Will and grinned, "... I never made it back t' Port Royal, or I woulda broke int' th' smiffy an' stolen one..." he glanced up at a laughing Elizabeth, and winked. Everyone chuckled at Jack's trademark boldness, as William rolled his eyes.

Jack resettled on his knees for a moment, then, with one hand waving about airily, he continued, his head bobbing from side to side as he talked, "Someday, your mama an' your papa an' I will teach you how t' use a fine weapon such as this, savvy?... but until then, it will be up t' us t' protect ye..." he paused, and his face clouded, "...every child should be protected... Remember, lad, I want ye t' keep a hold on your childhood..." Jack's eyes lost their sparkle for a fleeting moment, "...if I have t' draw this sword someday t' make sure that ye do, I swear tha' I will do so." He raised a slender finger to punctuate his words, "...That's a promise. Your father has always kept his promises... an' I try to..."

Jack's eyes rekindled their flame within, and the smile returned to his face, as he finally said, "... anyways, until ye're old enough t' really hold onto a blade as fine as this one, I shall make ye a little wooden sword, savvy? Wif it's own little scabbard, me fine littlest pirate, an' we shall practice, 'three hours a day'..." his dancing eyes flickered toward a proud William, whose sword was unsheathed, ready for some practice, to make certain that the new Turner blade was, indeed, perfectly balanced...

Jack turned once again, to Little William, who was amazingly quiet, his hands outstretched, his long fingers straight and fine boned. "Now, lad, pay attention... this is how it's done..."

He got to his feet, and William Turner the Second and Captain Jack Sparrow faced each other, grinning. Elizabeth looked on in wonder, as they began...circling each other, warily, booted feet stepping slowly as if in time to music...

"You're the one they're hunting... the pirate..." William began...

Smiling and with his head tossed back, Jack countered, in the words spoken so long ago, "...You seem somewhat familiar... have I threatened you before?"

William kept circling, his shoulder muscles rippling, his smile growing wider, "...I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates..."

And as a delighted Bill Turner, Joshamee Gibbs, Elizabeth Turner and baby Will looked on, William and Jack reenacted the moment that they met, the moment in a blacksmith's shop in Jamaica so long ago that had changed everything in their world, forever... at least William knew, this time, that Jack never followed the rules of engagement... rules that William also no longer followed.

۞

As Bill watched the two vital young men practice and test each other and test the sword that his son had amazingly repaired, and had added his own artistic touches to, his mind wandered for a short time. He took in the scene before him... his tall, strong son, who had withstood very hard times and a sad adolescence after Bill, himself, has disappeared into the briny deep, tied to a cannon, undead and yet not living. His son, who had become a fine, good man, a good pirate, a man of strength and loyalty, who had toiled long and hard to to right the wrongs of Davy Jones, and who had joined the crew and the captain of the Black Pearl, to strengthen the feeling of kinship and home that he had felt nowhere else.

He looked at his stunningly beautiful daughter-in-law, who was watching, with fascination, the story that was being reenacted before her... something that had been reminisced about but was now playing out before her and her son, a pivotal moment in all of their lives when their fates became forever entwined... his daughter-in-law, the daughter of an aristocrat, who had fought and scratched and struggled through such adversity for everything that she now had... a secure home, a life upon the sea with those that she loved unfailingly...

He looked over at a grinning Joshamee Gibbs... a good man who loved his captain like a son, and who also cared about and respected Bill's son, as if William were also his own... a man who had been given many chances at redemption for the failings in his life, and who now felt that he had a family of his own again, with the birth of the little one who reminded him so much of his own lost baby boy...

And Bill's eyes finally rested upon Jack Sparrow... the cocky, brash, eccentric captain of the Black Pearl, who had carved out a legend for himself as a clever and wild pirate, but who Bill remembered as a scrawny, frail boy who tried so desperately to be a man much too early in life, who looked upon him as a father figure, and who Bill had pulled out of danger so many times, whether he was dragging him out of tavern brawls by his collar, or rocking him in his own strong arms while the boy wept with pain and sickness because the lad had no one else to care about him...

Bootstrap Bill Turner watched the scene before him, puffing upon his pipe, and for the first time in years, felt contentment wash over him like the very waves he felt each time the Dutchman submerged... contentment that this close-knit group assembled before him was a strong family... a family tied together by the beautiful wee baby, hiccuping in his mother's lap... watching a part of his family's history played out before him...Bill would soon have to return to his service aboard the Flying Dutchman, and he wanted to savor everything... and he anticipated with a smile what was going to take place once they had finished their work here at the little abandoned blacksmith shop...

To be continued...