Author's Note- Omg! It's been two weeks since I updated already! Sorry guys... Must work harder- time just goes so quickly!

Chapter 7

The clothes that Jack gives me- consisting of a loose-fitting shirt and a simple pair of trousers, along with some boots- are much better suited to life aboard this ship. Granted, the cloth is rough and well-worn, but still it is a great improvement on my dress that had, up until now, been my only clothing aboard this ship. Said dress is packed away in a safe place, in case 'I ever have need of it again', as Jack phrases it. Although, I personally cannot see when I would ever have need of the tattered and stained shadow of its former self that the dress has become- it only serves to remind me of the past, and of Chalmes.

Days stretch into weeks, and weeks into months. I start to wonder if we are ever going to reach this island.

Lacking anything better to do, I soon turn to observing the crew going about their daily routine. I also use this to try and help me understand why someone would want to follow this sort of life- why my real father wanted to follow this sort of a life.

Everyone seems to know exactly what their chores are- they must be so used to doing them, day in, day out that they have almost become automatic. Men constantly scurry up and down the ratlines to unfurl more sail or take some in or to mend any rips or tears that their constant use makes, while others swab the decks or take care of any other damages which the ship may have obtained. This, surely, is why the Black Pearl is the fastest ship in the Caribbean- with my limited knowledge of sailing I can see no other reason, as the masts are no taller than other ships', nor the hull sleeker. I even think this ship resembles one of the merchant vessels my father used to use for trading his sugar, and they were most definitely not the fastest of ships.

Not my father, but Robert Chalmes… I pause to remind myself each time I make this error. I may have thought of him like that once, but that time has long past since I found out what a… bastard… he really is…

Quickly I turn back to the sights around me to try and distract myself from these thoughts, and with so much hustle and bustle around it is not long before my mind moves on to other things.

Captain Sparrow often appears on deck, although he is not out all the time- clearly he has much more 'important' matters to take care of in his cabin- like drinking rum, I have no doubt. On these times when he emerges, he always seems to check on the ship more than the crew- lovingly running his hands over some piece of wood, or glancing up at the masts. The smile that plays on his face at these times seems to suggest a private conversation, exclusive to him and the ship. I start to understand the love and respect this man has for his vessel- she is not merely a floating tub that allows him to do his dishonest jobs, but a real personality, with thoughts and feelings just like any other being.

The entire crew seems to be good natured, smiling and greeting me whenever I pass them, and offering to help me with anything I might need doing. Soon some of the crew start teaching me about certain aspects of sailing, and, at first out of boredom more than anything, I accept. However, after learning how to climb the ratlines I soon start to love the rush of exhilaration I get from it, and take up any other offers to be taught about jobs on the ship eagerly.

One crewmember, going by the name of Alexander, also tries to teach me how to handle a sword in his spare time, after he finds out that I have never had any instruction. When I first tell him this, it seems to surprise him, as he cannot see any reason whatsoever why someone should not be taught basic defence. I have to explain to him that Chalmes thought it not proper for a young lady to be taught how to fight, and that I would always have an escort with me anyway so if I did fall into any trouble, it would be they who sorted it out. Alex, as I soon start to call him, sees no sense in this and reasons that the daughter of a pirate, especially a pirate such as Denver Falcon, should know how to fight with any sort of weaponry that may fall into her hands.

I notice that everyone aboard this ship knows exactly who I am now- I have heard gossip always travels fast when you are on a ship, and this has certainly proven to be true. I do not mind really, but I just find it a bit odd that everyone seems to know about my past and my father, almost better than I do- they have had all the legends from over the years to build a picture and personality for this pirate, while all I have had is a mention of the name here or there, and now a small painting within a locket. I have a face, but no real sense of the man behind it.

Alex continues with his little speech on why I should be taught how to fight.

"After all, you don't have one of Robert Chalmes' henchmen to protect you now, and the streets of the Caribbean can often be dangerous even for those who do know how to look after themselves. And if you're in need of another reason why you should be picking up a sword and learning to use it, let's just say it was Captain's orders."

This last sentence makes me pause, but Alex seems to be oblivious to its effect, and continues with his lesson.

"Now, remember what I said about the blade- treat it as an extension of your arm…"

My lessons in life aboard a ship progress slowly but surely, with short bursts of time snatched when a crewmember does not have a more pressing job to work at. Often when I am receiving this tuition, I see Sparrow observing me, a half-smile on his face. He looks very satisfied with how I have settled in, and indeed how I am so quickly and easily taking on these jobs which, at times, can be quite strenuous.

Over the time I spend aboard the Pearl, my skin turns a darker shade from being under the Caribbean sun and my skin on the palms of my hands toughens, becoming calloused from hauling on numerous ropes all day long. Without noticing consciously, I have adjusted completely to the life of a sailor. However, I may know the basics to how to fight or how to operate a ship, but I do not yet have the ruthlessness to be able to capture another person's ship, and take their entire livelihood for my own profit. I feel this is what stops me from making the transition between a simple sailor and a fully-fledged pirate- I simply do not have the right attitude. And yet, looking around at the rest of the crew, I do not see how they do either. These men seem so content with this relatively simple life- they are not squabbling amongst themselves for their takings of the plunder, nor complaining about when the next ship is going to be captured. How could these people be capable of the crimes I have heard of, that so many pirates seem to commit?

It is during one of the moments when I stop to think about these things that Sparrow comes sauntering over to me. We have not spoken very much during the last few weeks, each busy with our own things. However, now I can see he is planning to make some sort of conversation with me.

I finish coiling up the rope that I was holding, placing it in a neat pile on the deck. I then stand up just as Sparrow leans on the rail, looking out over the water.

"So Sierra… How's life aboard my ship suiting you? Well it seems, from what I have observed… But one can never really tell what someone's truly feeling."

I join Jack in leaning on the rail, following where his eyes are focused with my own. There, on the horizon, I can just make out a reddish blur- one that Jack had showed me through his spyglass a few weeks ago to be the sails of a ship, stained a blood-red.

I answer Jack's question with on of my own.

"The Serpent is still following us, I see?"

"Aye, as I want." Jack replies. "Close enough to keep track of us, but not too close as to cause a problem yet."

As far as I am concerned, if The Serpent's ship is close enough for me to see, then it is far too close for my liking. Jack seems to sense this unease.

"Don't worry, luv. He's not going to get any closer than that, you can count on me. I've got him exactly where I want him."

Sparrow gives me a confident smile- I just wish that I could be so positive about having another those men hot on our heels. Still, I pretend to look satisfied and turn back to my chores. However, this act apparently doesn't work too well as Jack picks up on it far too easily.

"What? That's not good enough for you? I'm sorry to say it, Sierra, but there's no other way. They have to follow us to get to this Island so we can show them what happens when they overstep the boundaries. Soon enough they will be off your tail for good, and you can get on with leading a normal life again."

I shake my head in response to this.

"Normal! Jack Sparrow…"

Sparrow makes a small suggestive noise.

"…Captain Jack Sparrow- I have found out recently that the way I have been living for seemingly my entire life is a lie, and that my father is not my father but is in fact a complete scheming, two-faced liar, while my real father is a long-dead pirate with a massive wealth hidden on some remote island. Does it really sound to you as though I could ever lead a 'normal' life now!"

Jack cocks his head to one side, as if considering the question. Them he seems to brush it aside with a wave of his arm.

"Water under a bridge… We all have histories, luv, and difficult times in our past… But that doesn't mean they have to affect the future. What you do from now on is your own decision."

With that, Jack turns with a clink from some of his many trinkets, and heads back towards his cabin. The conversation is seemingly closed. However, I have one last question before I can let this topic go.

"And what would your 'difficult times in your past' be, Captain? From what I've heard of the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow, he's always managed to wriggle out of whatever desperate situation he gets himself into..."

This halts Jack in his steps. He stands completely still -not even with his usual sway-, then his shoulders seem to drop slightly and his head lowers. I have done something I never thought possible- removed the spark of life from within this pirate.

This only happens for a brief pause, although it feels like an age. Then Jack spins around to look at me, once again the happy-go-lucky pirate everyone would recognise him as.

"You've no idea, luv… But as I said, water under a bridge, aye? The past is the past." Now he once again heads back to his cabin, this time making it to the door. With one last wink at me, he disappears inside.

I resume my chores, thinking about what Jack said. I decide not to mention to him how the past often has a nasty habit of returning, especially when you least expect it.

888888

Jack's Savvy Lass- Well thank you! And I'll try not to leave you hanging for so long... Must work faster! ; )

Chocolat Pirate- Naaah... Thank you! Looks slightly embarrassed. I must say, I've always thought that my descriptive/story side of writing has always been my strongest point- it's the bit I enjoy the most as well- so I'm glad you're agreeing! And sorry for the delay again- as I've said, I've got to add as much to this story as I possibly can when I have the time!

Lady Kiara Skywalker- Strangely enough, I had a dream which was sooo similar to the one in this story the other week, and it REALLY, REALLY freaked me out... Maybe I brought it on myself, writing it here... I don't know...

Twadrummer- I love twists and turns! Makes for a good storyline, keeps the readers on their toes... Hmm, maybe I'm just twisted myself, and so have to confuse everyone else to make me happy... Muahaha! Seriously though, expect there to be a few more twists, sooner or later... Evil laughter once again. And it's 'pahfo2fsafubaixyglc', is it? Hmmm... Havn't come across that word before, I might need to check the dictinary for it... Lol, did you have a minor spazz and start thumping the keyboard to try and explain yourself, by any chance?