Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any characters involved. Nor do I own the song Swallowed in the Sea by Coldplay.

Swallowed in the Sea: A Path of Freedom

Chapter 2 – A Desperate Race Begins

"Who be this wench, Sparrow? Ye' were supposed to be getting that whelp Turner!" Jack examined the unnerving head bellowing before him. Elizabeth, finally regaining movement in her body, faced him with livid eyes. The degrading 'wench' comment seemed trivial at the moment as she was much more distressed with the other comment made.

"What!" she shrieked with clench fists while Jack back peddled away from her with an innocent smile then staggered towards the headless man. He was forced to hide the sickened expression that masked his features when he himself endured the horrific stench emitting from the man.

"This, my headless friend, is Lizzie Swann. The most dreaded female pirate of 'em all – fell for a eunuch; 'orrible mistake it was." Elizabeth fell as an audience to Jack's performance of weaving his web of lies. All the while feeling her animosity conquered by his enthrallment. His tone of voice was so melodic and inducing that it tempted the impossible. Gesturing this way and that while careening about only made his performance all the more credible. His fascinating methods of fabricating the truth constantly seemed to end positively when he encountered a person who wasn't quite prepared for his erratic behavior. There were times, though, when even Jack couldn't quite use his charismatic skills to weasel himself out from a situation. This seemed to be one of them.

"I don't give a damn! She's a despicable, filthy woman; a poor excuse for a pirate! Bloody wench should be thrown overboard!"

"How dare you say that about me, you rotting corpse!" Elizabeth clenched her teeth, minding the insults this time. Drawing her cutlass, she started towards the severed being but was seized in place by his putrid crewmen. "Let go of me, scum!" Her cries went unheeded while she thrashed about in their grips. She abruptly took notice to Jack who was eyeing her, warning her to keep quiet with his stare. Shockingly, she obeyed. There was something in those dark eyes of his that seldom failed to entice her into acting a certain way. Sometimes she had pondered whether his eyes had the same effect on other people, as well.

"Seems we've got a fiery one 'ere, mates!" The head mocked in enjoyment at the way her lips twisted resentfully, giving his crew a laugh. The hand clutching onto its greasy mane was filthy with tar and scarred along the knuckles. Blood splotches stained the body's clothing as well as a crusted mud fueling Elizabeth's presumption that he had risen from the grave. She had witnessed a fair share of bizarre things on her adventures with Will and Jack, but the sight before her peculiarly alarmed her the most.

"I demand to know who you are," she threatened, boldly aiming to earn her respect that only resulted in her receiving a backhand across the face from one of the crew members. A bloody trace was left along her cheek that came from one of the gashes in the man's hand from the impact, leaving her disgusted and sore. She studied the pirate's face as he dipped forward, inches away from her own. His breath felt like acid against her skin, burning her flesh with its ghastly odor of moldering fish and blood, causing her to cringe. His face was scarred with injuries that had never been treated that were coated with dry, crusted blood. It was unbearable for her to withstand. She turned away and coughed uncomfortably when he opened his mouth to speak, his breath practically scattering over her entire face.

"Quite the tongue she's got. Perhaps we should cut it out from this 'ere pretty, little mouth of 'er's, eh cap' in?" Elizabeth went white as the captain sneered from behind the pirate while he revealed a dagger from under his belt and edged it in front of her mouth. When she thought all hope was lost – and soon to be her tongue as well, a shaky voice hollered out,

"Wait, wait, wait!"

Everyone watched as Jack slipped effortlessly between the pirate and his captain, index fingers pointing upwards like usual. The captain heaved its dislocated head to him with the face skewered impatiently. "What is it now, Sparrow?" he roared with Jack's impertinence. The captain of the Black Pearl gave a cheeky smile.

"Well, you see, when you so… graciously took charge of my ship so that I could locate a final crewmember, you failed to identify a specific person. Now, I did suggest I would try to find Turner but seeing as my efforts were futile, I recruited lovely Miss Swann, here. And in addition to failing to specify any particular individual, you also failed to classify a specific sex, as well. Now, correct me if I'm wrong, but the rules were that no crewmember of mine should come into harm's way unless the race had begun and the same rules would apply for you and your charming bunch. So, unless you wish to contradict yourself, we honor our words, savvy?"

Stillness overtook the ship that compelled Elizabeth to suppress a chuckle. Judging from the blank looks upon the pirates' faces, none of them had ever endured such a perplexing lecture like one from Jack Sparrow. The first time she had underwent one it had left her befuddled as well. But being a veteran now when it came to processing his vocabulary, she laughed privately at the variety of faces he struck with his words.

Jack pivoted to her with an undoubting smile that caused butterflies to flutter at the pit of her stomach. Wait, no. She was still offended by the fact that he exploited her; she shouldn't feel flattered by him. But seeing that look on his face… Well, perhaps she could chew him out later. Right now, she couldn't replace her infatuation with him for taking a stand on her behalf.

The pirate secured the weapon under his belt again then backed away from her once slipping in a final word, "The name's Cort, wench. Make sure ye 'member it 'cause I'm gunna be the one to take yer life." Elizabeth only glared; dreading that if she spoke, her voice could crack. Cort treaded over to the captain's side, wickedly plotting the disturbing thought of murdering the young woman.

"Alright, Sparrow, ye know the deal. At sunrise, the fight for your souls shall commence," the head knocked against the side its body as both he and his undead crew – who had released Elizabeth – approached the rails of the Black Pearl, ready to leap off into the murky sea.

"Wait!" The captain turned his attention to the tiring female that perturbed him. The look that veiled his eyes clearly indicated that if it weren't for the agreement, he would surely steal her life. "Will you tell me who you are?" Elizabeth figured if she wasn't so challenging, he might possibly give her a straight response. Fortunately for her, he simply wished to leave without her squabbling. So before stepping off, he retorted crossly,

"Blackbeard."

Elizabeth's hammock rocked steadily with the ship's movements against the waves as she fiddled with the engagement ring Will had given to her. It wasn't until after they had parted ways that she had come to realize she hadn't returned it to him. 'I wonder how he's doing,' she mused, suddenly feeling miserable. Trying to clear her mind, she glanced around at the tranquil, sleeping masks each crew member donned as they lay in their cots, dreaming of their own hidden desires.

Ever since Blackbeard and his men had departed from the Black Pearl, she had refused to speak to Jack for his treachery. They only exchanged a few words when releasing the crew from the brig but Elizabeth refrained from any more talk with him after then. Of course he had shadowed her along the deck with a rum bottle fixed in his grip, attempting to charm her away from her rage but found his attempts ineffective. It didn't take long for him to lose interest in her 'silent treatment' (or possibly he had just forgotten entirely what it was he was doing) and move onto other business that needed attending to on the ship; much to her dismay. Idiotically, she had hoped he would take drastic measures to get her attention back, but she knew him better than that. Will would have nearly begged for her to forgive him, but Jack was more of a challenge to try to win with. He wasn't one to fall victim to childish games of trickery and manipulation. Elizabeth herself, though, was bright enough to hold her ground and resist crawling back to him like other women would. It was discouraging—she had to admit—not interacting with him at all. Especially after dealing with his absence for so long; she had missed his company.

Feeling flustered, she swung her legs over the side of the hammock and carefully slid into her boots. She whirled around one of the wooden posts and headed straight for the few steps that led up to the main deck. The crisp, sea wind up there was much more refreshing for her to breathe than the dingy air that lingered in the forecastle. She stepped out from the darkness and into the moonlight that guided her towards the mast. Glancing up to the helm, she observed Barbossa with his eyes fixated on the sea, too entranced with his thoughts to pay any attention to her. Due to never-ending squabbling between him and Jack when he had been rescued from the 'world's end', Will had been forced to intervene. He pronounced Jack as the rightful captain and Barbossa as the rightful first-mate. Both agreed after exchanging a few childish remarks and the dispute was settled at last. Barbossa just seemed to have been contented with the fact that he had been granted a second chance at life, so strayed from arguing any longer and accepted his place.

Slanting against the mast wearily, she rubbed her eye with her finger-tips. "Couldn't sleep either, eh?" Jack's far-off voice brought her to her senses and directed her eyes to the deck above the forecastle where he smiled down at her from behind the rail. As she teetered up the stairs to join him with a slight grin, she remembered to keep in mind that he had used her. This vital reminder twisted her lips into a frown.

Coming towards him, he flashed a sheen colored grin. He took a swig at his rum then politely offered her to take a drink, too. When he was faced with an aggravated expression, he brought the bottle to his chest fretfully. He had assumed after a few hours of venting, Elizabeth would have been back to her usual, quick-tempered self and would have given up this whole pouting charade. It was obvious, though, that she still held her grudge.

"Look, luv, I really do apol'gize for draggin' you int' this," he slurred while his hand flew about in a groggy manner, "But you were the one who wanted all this."

Elizabeth merely glared at him pitifully. If he wasn't so drunk, she might have been able to talk civilly with him but was now left with just an intoxicated mess. "You're drunk, Jack," she remarked flatly while he struggled to keep his eyes focused. When she was on the verge of marching back to sleep in a huff, a plan formed in her mind and she chose to stay.

Drunken Jack was, in a way, better than sober Jack when it came to fishing for information. If she was to ask him now about what it was Blackbeard had spoken about earlier, he would tell her everything she needed to know without second guessing himself to form scheming uses for her in the future. The dishonesty he usually used in order to manipulate people would be far too difficult for him to exercise in the state he was in. It was her turn to get back at him by using his very own technique of fakery: charm.

Tossing her wavy tresses over her shoulder, she began to beat her eyelashes his way until he finally took notice. She placed a hand on her hip and gripped the rail firmly, continuing to tempt him with her body language. 'Time to work the charm'

"Captain Jack, how do you do it?" Jack cocked a brow, trying to keep his body steady.

"De' what, luv?"

"You know…" Elizabeth fingered the tiny bead that dangled from his chin braids with an innocent pout, "Lure me in with your devilish good looks." A silly smile tweaked at his lips that came close to sending her into titters. Sometimes his petty quirks could make her split her side with laughter while other times they just plain made her smile. It was these little things that made the infamous captain so unique.

The rum sloshed around in its bottle as he drew closer to her. Though the moonlight shone down on the pair, she figured he hadn't detected the smug look that had creased her features when she caught the thick scent of rum on his lips. Creating a path down his shoulder with her finger-tips, she listened to his sluggish words. "It comes naturally t' one such as myself."

While he indulged in another swallow of rum, she leered with the belief that she would be the first to outsmart Captain Jack Sparrow. 'Time to move in for the kill' without any second thoughts, Elizabeth enfolded her arms around him and nuzzled his chest. "Jaaack. Can you please tell me everything you know about that scary old Blackbeard?"

"Alright..." she clung to his body, joyfully waiting for him to carry on. She was pleased with the fact that she had blinded his cunning intelligence with her very own allure. "I'll tell you what you need to know so long as you give us a kiss." It was in that moment as he began enunciating his words that she realized she had been horribly deceived. Elizabeth shoved a smirking Jack away from her, trying to find her bearings. He set the bottle down and watched in amusement as her face turned bright red.

"Y-you lying wretch!" she yelped while pounding against his chest with her fists. After a few short strikes, he caught her wrists and heaved a sigh.

"I must say that was one interesting display you so courageously attempted to pull, there, deary," he complimented once she had wriggled from his hold and was exhaling madly. She scoffed and swept the loose hair from her eyes – not sure whether he was being sarcastic or not— then retorted,

"Learned from the finest lying scoundrel there is." He seemed to take enjoyment from the comment which infuriated her even more. "I thought you were drunk!" her dubious tone widened his know-all grin.

"You thought a few things, didn't you?" Her eyebrow twitched; he was undoubtedly implying her compliment from a few moments prior.

"Ha! Don't flatter yourself. It was all part of the act." Flooding down the stairs with a swift pace, she managed to hide her flushed face. He chased after her with his inept gait once snatching the near-empty bottle of rum from the rail.

"Come, now, Lizzie. You can't be all that upset. You know I was just playing." She disregarded him completely; never feeling so irked in her entire life. He had made a complete fool of her while she had been led to believe that she had him all figured out. The staircase leading down to the forecastle was only a few more steps away; it was her escape from the humiliating situation. That filthy, old hammock below was looking particularly tempting to her at the time. Taking a final glance back at him she bade,

"Goodnight, Mister Sparrow."

"Blackbeard is an infamous, bloodthirsty scallywag. Captained the Queen Anne's Revenge."

Jack stared at her while she considered privately whether to stay behind or not. When she spun on her heel to him with wearisome eyes, he stepped over to the side and leaned onto the wooden banister overlooking the darkened ocean. Elizabeth followed, easing herself onto the railing by her elbows. A quiet moment ensued where only the creaking of the ship could be heard. It gave them both a chance to subdue any of their overpowering emotions and restore the tranquility. Jack faced her and began,

"Blackbeard, also known in his privateer days as Edward Teach, was killed and decapitated a while back by a lieutenant of the Royal Navy. Well, unfortunately the bloody bugger couldn't die all because of a certain treasure of much significance to him."

"What's so special about this treasure?" She could easily tell by the look in his eyes that he had no intention of revealing that to her.

"I have no idea," he lied. She merely stared at him dully, waiting for a response that didn't fall under the category of 'lies'. When he overlooked her bothered expression by shifting father down the ship, she pursued and persisted,

"You know there's really no point in lying to me anymore, Jack. You know I'll just uncover the truth one way or another, so you might as well save yourself the trouble and the beatings."

"But I love the beatings." He sidestepped the matter at hand with his lecherous antics that she couldn't resist snorting at.

"Honestly, Jack," she insisted with a tired smile. His shoulders sagged in defeat.

"Blackbeard was… insane when it came to power—not that the bolts were all tight up there to begin with. Always had to be the one in control; he was obsessed, to say the least. Figured 'e should be the one to pass judgment and have the ultimate authority. This deranged scheme of his looked especially appetizing the day he swayed a voodoo priestess, who possessed much supremacy in the dealings of the afterlife and such, to round up every soul there was with her witchcraft and deposit them into a chest for Blackbeard to use."

"Why is it always a chest," Elizabeth exhaled vehemently; she already detested the way this was going.

"Miss Voodoo, though, decided that Eddy-dear be not exactly the best candidate to leave the souls with, so she entrusted the chest to herself, instead."

"So the temptation was too much for even her." Jack nodded and Elizabeth urged him to continue on.

"Blackbeard wasn't all too keen on her decision, though, so he stabbed her in the chest. Not all too kind to women, I suppose." Elizabeth grunted and commented,

"That seemed quite evident this evening."

"You were lucky, luv. If you ever end up alone with him I have no doubt in my mind that he would inflict as much pain on you as humanly possible… or in his case as undead humanly possible." Jack took a moment to let his eyes wander to the skies with this thought before he went on,

"Well, before she died, she managed to free all the souls locked in the chest and imprison his own – as well as his oblivious crews' who were waiting on his ship – as substitutes. In quite a predicament, Blackbeard buried the trunk and went to seek out assistance from a different voodoo practitioner.

"At the time, though, they were the most wanted pirates sailing the Caribbean and were sought out by the Royal Navy, like I said before. So, Blackbeard was killed and decapitated, also like I said before, and was thrown overboard. His head strung as a trophy to the bowsprit of the lieutenant's ship. Now, if your soul is imprisoned like theirs were, it resides in limbo, dear Lizzie. So for Eddy and his crew, it meant that they remained undead. And we all know from me precious first-mate over there how unfortunate that can be." Both glimpsed over to Barbossa whose hands were fixed on the wheel, to see him give them an unsettling smirk.

"I assume Blackbeard reclaimed his head," she assumed as they carried on their discussion.

"As a matter of fact," Jack paused to take a seat on the deck with Elizabeth joining him, "He didn't. His head is lost somewhere awaiting to be found so that the secrets it holds– say the whereabouts of the chest, perhaps – lay dormant inside. That head he held today was some wretched-bad-lucked pirate's. Some trick he 'as using it to talk, eh?" While Jack found it humorous, she suffered the need to gag. It was a revolting thought; using someone else's head to do your bidding.

"The bugger found me not too long ago and forced me and the crew into a race. He had plotted it himself – with the help of witchcraft from a particular voodoo goddess that will remain unnamed – that a race would commence between us and the crew of the Eclipse."

"The Eclipse?" Elizabeth inquired as she shifted in her position while Jack sucked at the last visible drop of rum left in the bottle.

"Not too fond of 'em and they're not all too fond of us, either. Actually, they'd been trying to eliminate us prior to the proposition from Blackbeard," he affirmed indifferently while putting his eye to the glass rim insisting there was more alcohol to be had.

"So it's a competition. But what's the reward?" Jack lowered the bottle while turning his attention to her with audacious eyes and smirked,

"Whoever reaches that chest first saves their souls from eternal damnation."

"Bloody pirates," Elizabeth groaned jadedly before she headed inside to sleep off the frustration. Dragging her into this had been entirely selfish of Jack but she couldn't expect any less from him. Subconsciously, she found herself comparing him to Will almost regularly. Will was much more caring and protective while Jack was only concerned about himself and his freedom and would step on whomever he needed to, to get it. In the past, she admired this. Now, she envied it. Her stomach flopped sickly as her mind raced with all the scams he had pulled in the past with her and Will. He never really cared about her, it was obvious and she knew she shouldn't be troubled by it. But then why this disappointed feeling? The few moments before she slipped into slumber, a bleak thought clouded her mind that caused her heart to twinge, 'He's a good man, true. But no matter what… he will always be heartless.'