Fic: The War Within

Rating: M
Characters: Elizabeth/Jack Elizabeth/Will
Chapter Title: Of Two Evils, Choose the Less
Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean. Disney does, no money being made off this.
Summary: Captain Elizabeth Swann, Pirate Lord and King. Captain Jack Sparrow, Pirate Lord, lecherous pirate, son of the Keeper of the Code. What will happen on the eve of battle. JE. Reviews welcome.

His eyes adjusted to the dimness. He knew every inch of this room. It had been his refuge for so many years.

Memories churned through his mind, some old, some more recent.

-It's just good business Jack. You of all people should understand that. I cannot allow people to think that they can choose when to carry out orders and when to not.

-You cannot let those people die Cutler!
- Tell me Jack – how far are you willing to go to save them?
- I would die for them.
- Oh good. Then we won't have any problems then.

Jack leaned over his desk. He could remember the heat of the fire, the flames churning, the screams that reverberated in his head, almost every time he closed his eyes. Drink only drowned out so much. He recalled praying, wanting anything to save him from this torturous moment.

Tell me – do you fear death?

Davy Jones. That had marked the beginning of his pirate life. Jones had granted him his boon. Thirteen years and he could have his ship. His soul – Jack's soul – for one hundred years onboard the Flying Dutchman; for Jack's ship and the lives of those people that had been trapped in the hold.

He took a deep breath and lifted his head, his eyes haunted. He had tried to run away, but he could never get far away enough. The drink had never been enough. The leagues still kept him too close. He had tried to find things, to get things to keep himself amused and his mind off those other things. He had tried to find the gold of Cortez.

He ran his hand over the door, the chair; in fact he lovingly touched most of the chattels in this room. He now stood, looking out the small windows at the stern of the ship.

It's only a ship he had told Gibbs, but it was his ship. This ship was his life; in fact cost him his life. Twice! He'd renamed her from the Wicked Wench to the Black Pearl, the priceless beauty, worth more than the gold in the world. He'd paid for her with his life.

"Makes her all seem so much more …" he muttered to himself, his voice trailed away as his eye was caught by the most important object.

He swayed his way toward the desk, his desk; his fingers caressed the familiar surface. He poked an empty rum bottle with one finger until it fell to the floor, causing a loud clatter.

His eyes twitched, the only indication that the sound had affected him in any way. His life had pinnacled to this moment. It was only a matter of time before he never saw this glorious ship again – not as her Captain.

Elizabeth sensed Barbossa come to her side. She watched him out of the corner of her eye. He stood next to her, rocking back and forth from ball to heel, his hands behind his back. He made humming noises. She smiled; the action was incongruous to his nature. When she spoke, her amusement was in her voice.

"You mean to frighten me Barbossa, coming here in all your glory," she referred to his humming, "but I refuse to submit to such obvious displays of coercion."

"You think I aim to coerce you Captain Swann?" Barbossa gazed out across the ocean, a grey look on his lined face. "I was considering that perhaps I should accompany you and Jack to the meeting with Beckett."

Elizabeth knew that Barbossa had a motive for wanting to see her. He always had a motive. 'Pirates could be so transparent,' she thought. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as she answered him. "Why is that, I wonder?"

"You think I have other, maybe ulterior motives."

The oiliness apparent in Barbossa's tone slewed off far too easily, Elizabeth surmised. "Yes, otherwise you would not be here."

His tone injured, Barbossa replied, "You wound me Captain Swann. Am I not a fair man that has taken you under me gentle wing and guided you to the far and distant shores and helped you to rescue poor Jack? For too long have you been fraternising with pirates my dear. Your gentle ways are fast disappearin'."

She snorted quietly. "You wanted Jack's piece of eight. It happened to coincide with what we wanted."

He turned and looked at her sharply then he smiled, his yellowed teeth showing.

"I only aim to even out the numbers that are to be met on the parlay." Barbossa told her.

His voice was oily, slimy even, in his desire to get her to concede to his wishes. His eyes however, told her differently. This was a dangerous man – a very dangerous man.

"It is only out of my consideration for your newly appointed position that I wish to accompany such a fine lady as yourself – as is my duty as a gentle-pirate." He made a low bow to her.

Elizabeth pursed her lips, and tried looked grave. She wanted to seem as if she was giving it due consideration. It wouldn't hurt to have safety in numbers. She did not know what Beckett was planning, after all. Hector Barbossa was not a pirate to be trifled with and she wanted Beckett to leave with the impression that they were all a force to be reckoned with.

"Very well," she said, after a moment. "After much consideration to your request to accompany myself and Captain Sparrow, I acquiesce to your request – means yes." She noted his exultant look.

She smiled to herself as she went to find Jack.

Jack wandered slowly around the room, his hand trailing along the walls, touching each piece of wood reverently as his thoughts meandered.

Once Jack had been happy that Elizabeth was following the path he had set her on, in order to get himself close enough to be able to get the key and the chest; he had gone in search of Barbossa. He wanted the old pirate to come with them to the parlay. He couldn't be there to take care of Elizabeth once he had been traded and he knew that Barbossa would do it. How he knew, he didn't know, but he just knew. Barbossa fell into his plan beautifully. He knew that the older pirate also had his own ulterior motive, otherwise it would not have been quite as easy, but Jack was happy enough.

He smiled faintly as his hand touched his maps. Many trips had been taken to chart these maps. Like the trips to find the treasure of Cortez, the last with Barbossa.

Barbossa. His life had taken a turn with Barbossa's mutiny. He had been too boastful, too pleased with his own success. That changed during that seemingly interminable time on the island that Barbossa stranded him on. That shot he had determined would never be for him – only for his mutinous first mate. Pride goeth before fall and fall he had.

So had she… the herald of Miss Elizabeth Swann… She had made a fine entrance, almost as if she had Sparrow blood in her. He recalled sitting on the Interceptor telling them of his trip to the Pelogostas and had just reached the most interesting part of when they made him chief, when she made her entrance. The splash of her body hitting the water broke into his story-telling and the three of them had turned around. He had stood there, staring at the water, watching as the ripples were dying away. He hadn't wanted to dive in after her, but after hearing that those two imbeciles were incapable of saving said damsel in distress; his own hero complex jumped him. Jack had dived in and his life was irrevocably changed once more.

He had been quite taken with her, with the dolly-belle, when he brought her up from the ocean floor. He had stripped her, trying to get her to breathe, and by the gods, she was truly a beauty. She was akin to some of the fine women of society he had walked out with in his previous life. When she lay on that dock, her breasts heaving, taking in great gulps of air, her long luscious hair wet and hanging down her back, he could only note that her skin was so very soft, and so very wet.

His body had responded dramatically. He snorted in reflection. The only thing that had stopped him from doing anything foolish had been the glint of gold, the medallion she wore around her neck. Ah, treasure can do strange things to one's soul, thought Jack.

And then the wonderful Commodore had arrived and instead of Jack being able to skip around the docks of Port Royal and commandeering a boat, he was diving and ducking for cover, avoiding red coats - not that Jack hadn't tried to give it a damn good go at escaping from old Norrington.

Even Lizzie-belle herself had tried to give ol' Jack a helping hand to escape from Norrington's clutches. He chuckled when he thought of her body pressed against his as he held the chain against her neck. He couldn't but help push himself against her and he knew that she had felt it in her thin shift – undressed as she was. That was probably why she reacted so violently once she had turned around. After all, it was not that difficult to feel something like that pressed against your almost bare backside now was it?

But good old William – the boy had been arguable, most put out by the very thought that a pirate had laid a hand on the beautiful Miss Swann. He had tried to help put Jack away, tried to best Jack in a fight. Thanks to Bootstrap's son, Jack was in a cell.

Jack shook his head and laughed silently at the memories, his hands still pressed against the wood of the ship. He gave a silent nod to the heavens as he remembered the former Commodore. Poor sod. He was another that had been hard pressed to resist the young girl's formidable charms. Good adversary he was.

"Still rootin' for you mate," he said aloud.

Jack continued to run his hand over the ship's blackened wood as he walked around the room. He could feel the wood under his fingertips, feeling as if it were alive. He gazed out the small panes of glass as he reached the window. 'The sun was bright today,' he thought absently. He sighed and put his hand down to his side. He would miss her.

A sound from the door and without turning, Jack knew it was her.

As always, reviews welcomed and encouraged…. TJ