Birds of a Feather

The Curse of the Black Pearl

Chapter Five

Blood of a Pirate

"Again!"

Philip ducked, spun, and slashed again as Will made him repeat the fencing steps. Since they were going off to fight pirates and found themselves with a lot of free time, Will had decided to train Philip up as fast as possible. Unfortunately, they were forced to practice with real swords as those were the only ones on hand.

If an outsider were to look at Will and Philip in that moment, it would have been hard to name what the duo were. They certainly did not look like uniformed soldiers or respected merchants, nor even like wild pirates. The two just simply did not look like they belonged at sea.

Both men wore similar outfits. They had billowing long sleeved shirts: Will's a worn out cheap yellow-cream material, and Philip's was crisp, white, and expensive. Both wore an unbuttoned vest: Will's brown and short, and Philip's black and hanging past his waistline. Will wore a brown belt and trousers, while Philip wore his black. Both had their long brown hair tied back in a ponytail, neither had shaved in a few days, and they carried expertly crafted swords on their hips.

Of course there were obvious differences between their attires that a single glance at easily showed the difference in their stations. Philip wore tall, sturdy black boots, and Will wore cheap brown buckle shoes. Philip wore a long coat, cross and bible, and Will could not afford such accessories, save for a salmon coloured scarf.

But at the end of the day, the two could easily pass as brothers, and the bond between them made them as such in all but name. Honestly, part of the reason Philip secretly wished Will and Elizabeth would get married was just so Philip could actually call Will family. Having grown up together since the day Elizabeth was born, Philip did not see her as his cousin, but rather his sister. He absolutely wanted Elizabeth to be with Will because it would make her happy... but he also wanted to call Will his brother.

The funny thing about the duo was that if they thought of each other as brothers, Will would have played the part of older brother, despite Philip being the elder of the two. True, it was a mere seven months between them, but the pampered Governor's nephew had not gotten the chance to mature the way Will had been forced to.

Like their appearances, their backgrounds were similar too. Both orphaned at a young age and were forced to watch their mothers slowly give in to terrible diseases. Their fathers were assumed dead, despite the fact there was no physical proof (though there were more than enough eye witnesses on the Nathaniel front for Philip to be confident that his father had been taken by the Lord a long time ago.) Said fathers had a love of the sea, though sought respectable, non-military, avenues to pursue said love. Mothers were dedicated to their sons, though they themselves succumbed to the temptation of the sea occasionally (Sarah Turner had made frequent trips to her sister when her husband was home, and the family had lived on the coastline of Scotland before moving to a coastal English town when Will was twelve. Though oddly after Sarah died, Will could never find that sister his mother so often visited.)

But it had been that similar background that brought them together. When Will had been found at sea by Elizabeth those distant eight years ago, she and Philip had stuck to their word to watch over the mysterious young boy, and ended up sitting vigil at his side until he woke. Elizabeth had immediately wanted to start getting the answers to all of her questions about who he was and where he had come from and what an earth had happened to the ship Will had been on. Philip however, not wanting to scare the strange boy had insisted on letting Will take it easy and take his time, letting them answer Will's questions first about where the heck he was and who they were and where they were going. As Will recovered from his traumatic experience, Philip made small talk about their families and was quickly delighted to find similarities, which in turn made Will feel more comfortable around them.

The next thing anyone knew Philip Swift, Will Turner, and Elizabeth Swann were the best of friends, running around underfoot on the Dauntless and getting into all sorts of mischief that made Weatherby Swann go grey far too young.

And now they were on a pirate adventure getting in their biggest mischief yet.

"You're getting better," Will patted Philip's shoulder encouragingly as they took a pause from their sparring.

"Thanks," Philip smiled slightly as he breathed heavily. He had no idea how long they'd been at it. "I hope I can become good enough to protect myself."

"Unlike your father?" Will could see the unspoken words in Philip's expression.

Philip looked away guilty, "No one's ever told me if he was trained to fight. There's so much I know about him, and yet so much don't."

"I understand the feeling. My father is much the same mystery to myself. He would visit a few times of the year, but it was mostly just my mother and myself."

"At least you had that much," Philip sighed. It was then that his eyes wandered over to see Jack watching them cautiously. Philip leaned into Will and muttered conspiratorially, "Now's your chance to find out more."

Will nodded and Philip took a step back. As they sheathed their swords, the duo turned directly to face Jack. Will dramatically cleared his voice as Philip took a seat and opened his bible to a random page. Coincidentally, it was the story of Jonah.

Philip pretended to busy himself with it, but Jack could see the missionary's gaze repeatedly flicking up to watch the scene.

Jack resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Here we go," he thought, debating how to play the inevitable question.

"When I was a lad living in England," Will started, "my mother raised me by herself."

"So you've said," Jack flashed a sarcastic grin as he checked the various lines and ropes of the ship.

"Wait, didn't you grow up in Port Glasgow?" Philip asked.

Will kicked him.

"Alright, message received," he muttered, rubbing his injured leg with his opposite foot and went back to reading his bible.

"After she died," Will continued shooting a look to the preacher, who appeared to have given up the pretense of privacy, "I came out here, looking for my father."

"Is that so?" Jack asked.

Would the whelp just get to the bloody point already?

To help ease the conversation along, Jack walked past the blacksmith, pretending to bring the subject to a close. As expected, Turner was forced to follow behind to pursue the pirate and push Sparrow for more information. The pirate shook his head in disbelief at how easy it was to manipulate the blacksmith and his pet cleric. Jack was surprised to see that the rich boy dutifully stayed seated. Clearly Turner was the one running this show, and the Holy Man had just come along for the ride.

"My father, Will Turner," Will raced after Jack as the pirate climbed the stairs to the top deck. "At the jail, it was only after you learnt my name that you agreed to help. Since that's what l wanted, I didn't press the matter. I'm not a simpleton, Jack. You knew my father."

Jack took his time to secure a line. He carefully turned over the options in his head in the strange, slightly mad fashion that made Jack Sparrow every bit memorable. It came down to two choices: lie or do the unspeakable and tell the truth.

Now Jack didn't regard himself as a liar. Rather he was a man who chose to utilize certain aspects of the truth and if people chose to believe some of the more ridiculous stories about him (honestly, how the bloody hell was one supposed to make a raft of sea turtles?) then Jack had no problem with allowing people to believe those stories. Sure, there were times when he chose to withhold other aspects of the truth, but he rarely actually lied.

No, Jack Sparrow wasn't a liar, per say. He more liked to think of himself as an honest dishonest man, meaning that he was very upfront about his dishonest nature. Bending and weaving the truth to suit one's own purposes was truly a beauteous art form (not that Jack was much for art, I mean honestly, have you seen some of those ruddy paintings they were making nowadays?)

There was just one problem. Jack understood the situation at hand. He knew about the treasure, he knew about the curse, and he knew that Barbossa needed Will. Sure, he had no bloody clue why Barbossa had chosen to take Miss Swann instead of just her medallion, but that certainly wasn't Jack's problem to deal with. The problem he did have was that in order to get his beloved Pearl back, Jack needed leverage: also known as William Turner Junior. And in order to have William Turner Junior, he needed said whelp's trust. And in order to have said whelp's trust, Jack needed to earn said trust. Savvy?

So it would be to follow that the most logical and fortuitous way to earn said trust would to be the one to tell the whelp that deep, dark secret Bootstrap Bill Turner aka Mister William Turner Senior held most clandestine.

The facts were clear: there was no bloody way William Turner Junior would go through whatever adventure that was to follow without finding out dear Daddy Turner was in fact the scourge of the sea: a bloodthirsty pirate (though Jack never personally found Bootstrap to be particularly bloodthirsty. Gold thirsty, yes, but not much one for blood. Now Sarah Turner née Smith on the other hand...)

Yes, the answer was clear: be the one to tell the eunuch that his father was a pirate, let the kid wrestle with his conscience, and use it as a tool to show Turner that Sparrow was someone he could trust (even if that would be a terrible mistake for Turner, but hey, that wasn't Jack's problem).

"I knew him," Jack finally confessed. "Probably one of the few who knew him as William Turner. Everyone else called him Bootstrap or Bootstrap Bill."

"Bootstrap?" Will frowned as Sparrow started to walk away.

Will dutifully followed and shot a confused glance at Philip, though not taking in his friend's expression. If he had, the pale wide-eyed shock of his friend might have given Will pause.

Philip knew the name Bootstrap Turner. It was from some story he had long forgotten. In fact, the only reason Philip had remembered the name was because of the name Turner and how his best friend had shared Bootstrap's surname (though Turner wasn't exactly an uncommon name).

The reason Philip had gone so pale was because he knew the name Bootstrap Turner had come from one of his mother's stories about pirates.

"Good man," Jack said as he settled at the helm. "Good pirate. I swear, you look just like him."

At the confirmation of his theory, Philip's heart dropped as he saw the look on Will's face. Shoving his bible back in his belt, Philip began to climb the stairs so that he may comfort his friend.

"It's not true," Will refused to believe the pirate's words. No, his father had been a model citizen. Though most of the memories of his father had long since faded, he remembered what kind of man his mother had insisted her husband was. "He was a merchant sailor. A good, respectable man who obeyed the law."

Jack dramatically spun around in annoyance, "He was a bloody pirate. A scallywag."

"Will," Philip warned as he saw his friend reaching for his blade. He put on his best 'God loves all of his creations' voice and tried to coax down his friend's anger, "Take a deep breath. I know this is shocking, but think of the upside. Elizabeth has always had a fascination with pirates. You being the son of a pirate might work in your favor!"

"My father was not a pirate!" Will drew his blade, forcing Philip to jump back.

As sinful as the thought was, Philip couldn't help but be thankful Will had pointed his sword at Jack rather than at his friend.

"Will, calm down," Philip urged, carefully backing to the stairs to give his friend some space in case things got violent.

"Listen to the Preacher, son," Jack said. "Put it away. It's not worth you getting beat again."

"You didn't beat me," Will reminded. "Norrington's officers put you under arrest before we could finish. In a fair fight, I'd kill you."

"Then that's not much incentive for me to fight fair then. Is it?"

Without any warning, Jack jerked the wheel. The boom swung over and knocked Will aside. Luckily the blacksmith was able to hold onto it and he dangled over the side of the boat, above a watery death.

"WILL!"

Philip rushed forward, but the pirate was too quick and shoved Philip back. Philip flipped over the bannister and with a crash, landed on top a pile of heavy crates. The pain and shock of the impact was so great, Philip found he couldn't move.

"You'll be fine," Jack called down to Philip before casually turning back to the murderous looking Will. "Now, as long as you're just hanging there, pay attention. The only rules that really matter are these. What a man can do, and what a man can't do. For instance, your friend can try to rescue you, but he can't overpower me. Another, less physical example is this: you can accept that your father was a pirate and a good man, or you can't. Pirate is in your blood, Boy so you'll have to square with that someday."

Will scowled at Jack as he struggled to stay on the boom. A good man and a pirate? No, the thought was just impossible.

Jack glanced over to see Philip starting to rise to his feet, "Now, me, for example. I can let him drown."

Philip's eyes went wide, "No, please-"

"But I can't bring this ship into Tortuga with just the rich boy to help, savvy?" Jack assured Philip. Then Sparrow looked between the boys in a calculating way Philip recognized, but couldn't recall from where. "So…"

Jack spun the wheel, and the boom came flying back. Once again it was too late when Philip realized what Jack's look meant. So when Will come swinging back onto deck, for the second day in a row Philip found himself on the wrong end of a Jack Sparrow person projectile, and Will crashed into Philip, knocking them both to the ground.

"You have to stop throwing people at me," Philip groaned as he untangled himself from Will.

"I make no promises, Clergyman," Jack replied.

"Clergymen?" Philip frowned. "I'm protestant."

Jack shrugged, "Po-tay-to, po-tah-to."

"It really isn't."

"If we could get back to the point, the question stands. Can you sail under the command of a pirate?" Jack pointed his blade at Will's neck. He flipped the sword and caught it, proffering the hilt to Will. "Or can you not?"

Making a decision, Will reluctantly grabbed the sword, and was pulled to his feet by Sparrow.

"Tortuga?" Will asked.

"Tortuga," Jack grinned.

And the two men looked at each other, in that moment a trust and bond developing between them. They may not have been each other's first choice of companion, but they were in this together no matter what.

"Is anyone going to help me up?"

And Philip was in it too.

A part of Elizabeth knew that her escape attempt would fail from the start. But she knew she just couldn't live with herself if she didn't try to get away.

It was more successful then she had expected. She had been placed in the Captain's Cabin to her surprise. At first she had wondered why the duo had taken her down below and past the "monster's" cabin, only to bring her back up to the Captain's Cabin. Elizabeth suspected that it was specifically so that she was forced to learn of the "monster's" (or whatever was in that cabin) existence.

Since she was in the Captain's Cabin, she had many heavy objects to use as weapons. Elizabeth couldn't help but wonder why they had allowed her to have access to them, but she was pleased to have some sort of advantage. When Ragetti and Pintel came to bring her food, she rushed them and brandished a heavy candlestick at them. After knocking out the lanky one's eye, Elizabeth was able to make it out of the cabin door.

Unfortunately, she ended up on deck and was quickly captured by Bo'Sun. He took her straight to the (mostly) unimpressed Captain.

"I'm slightly impressed, Miss Turner," Barbossa admitted as the monkey chattered on his shoulder. "It takes bravery to try to fight pirates on their own ship. Unfortunately this also means we are forced to take drastic measures."

Being held back by the Captain himself, Elizabeth was led below with Ragetti and Pintel excitedly following behind. Barbossa took Elizabeth straight to a familiar door: that of the monster's cabin.

"Oh, this'll be fun!" Pintel was positively gleeful as they spotted the door down the hall.

"But don't we need to keep her safe?" Ragetti asked. "You know, for the rit-"

Pintel bashed his elbow into Ragetti's stomach.

"Thank ya, Master Pintel," Barbossa said. "As for yer question, Master Ragetti, we not be feeding Miss Turner to the creature. We merely need some of the supplies inside of the cabin."

Knowingly, Ragetti and Pintel looked at each other and darkly chuckled in excitement.

A yell suddenly rang out down the hallway. There was a great commotion coming from inside the cabin: banging, hissing, screaming, and scratching.

Two pirates – Twigg and Koehler – burst out of the room and instantly tried to shove the door closed. Whatever monster Barbossa had in there was trying to get out. The door was pounding forward, and Elizabeth heard it hissing and violently scratching the wood.

The door was not the only thing the monster had scratched; both Twigg and Koehler were covered in long bloody lines and crescent shaped bite marks. Elizabeth could see from the shape of the cuts that whatever had delivered them, they did not have the dull, rounded teeth and nails of humans.

"What is going on here?" Barbossa cried out.

He tossed Elizabeth into Pintel's grasp and rushed the wounded pair. As he pulled them away from the monster, Elizabeth saw the monkey slip into the room. Barbossa looked absolutely furious as he began to fight back whatever the monster was. All Elizabeth could see was the occasional flash of pale skin or long dark hair.

"Settle down, and get back!" Barbossa ordered as he tried to shove the door closed. "We have a guest and yer not making much of an impression! Calm down and I'll send your two in there in a moment."

There was a loud, but conceding hiss from the monster, and it ceased its attack. Elizabeth heard the monkey chattering at the monster and its tiny nails clicking against glass. The floorboards creaked as the monster crossed them, and then Elizabeth heard a splash of water.

With the creature contained, Barbossa looked calm… Too calm for Elizabeth's liking.

"How many times do I have to tell ye?" Barbossa's voice was slow and dangerously composed as he turned on the injured pirates. Then all hell broke loose, "TO STAY AWAY FROM IT?"

Elizabeth winced, and she felt Pintel tense at the Captain's scream. But if the injured pirates were frightened, they did not show it.

"You'd think a Captain would offer us medical attention," Twigg sneered.

"Any injury you got, you deserve!" Ragetti, to Elizabeth's surprise, looked indignant.

"We know what you want with it!" Pintel snapped, looking equally protective. "You stay away from it!"

"Of course," Koehler rolled his eyes. "We wouldn't dream of touching your little pet."

"It's not some pet!" Barbossa snapped. "I've tell ye both time and time again to leave it alone. This will be your last warning."

"Is that a threat?" Koehler asked.

"Think of it as a promise." Barbossa side-eyed Ragetti and Pintel, "Check on it. And bring what we came for."

Elizabeth swallowed as she was passed back to the Captain. Ragetti and Pintel slowly approached the door, and Pintel knocked.

"It's us, Poppet," Pintel called in a fatherly fashion. "We're coming in."

"Are you alright?" Ragetti asked, sounding motherly. "Did the mean men hurt you?"

Pintel opened the door a crack, and before Elizabeth could see anything, the duo slipped in and slammed the door closed.

"You know, I would expect them having a soft spot for it," Twigg glared at Barbossa. "But not you. It's not right to be treating it like a pet, or worse, something more."

"I keep it for a purpose, Master Twigg," Barbossa snapped. "You may look at it with different eyes, but do not forget that even if it were reciprocal, you are not able to enjoy it."

"And when the curse is broken?" Koehler asked.

Barbossa shot the pirate a warning look, nodding meaningfully at Elizabeth.

"She'll find out about it soon enough," Twigg pointed out.

"And the Captain is the one he gets to decide when that is!" Barbossa roared.

"Don't be so secure in your position," Koehler smirked. "Remember how you got it? We're not above reversing that decision."

Elizabeth gasped as Barbossa pulled out his pistol and pointed it straight to Koehler's throat.

"And what be your meaning in that?" Barbossa challenged. "Do you wish to captain this vessel yourself?"

"What he means is that we ran into an old friend," Twigg replied. "Jack Sparrow."

"Sparrow?" Barbossa's eyes went wide as he lowered the pistol. "How the devil is he alive?"

"Don't know. We only found out when we stumbled into their," Koehler nodded to Elizabeth, "prison cells. Some bloody holy boy tricked us into thinking it was the armory. Tried to get us to repent."

Elizabeth gasped, knowing very well who the "bloody holy boy" must have been.

"What did you do to him?" Elizabeth blurted out before she could stop herself.

The pirates looked at her in surprise.

"You know him?" Koehler asked, looking murderous as he remembered what the little bollocks had done.

Elizabeth's eyes flicked between the pair, "I… Uh..."

"Who is he?" Twigg demanded.

Then Elizabeth got an idea, which admittedly was stupid, but she didn't care in her desperation to learn Philip's fate.

"I'll tell you if you tell me what you did to him," Elizabeth offered.

Twigg and Koehler looked at each other. Twigg shrugged as if to say 'why not?'

"We let him live before we went down into what we thought was the armory," Koehler relayed. "When we got back up, the coward had run away."

"Now who is he?" Twigg commanded.

Elizabeth swallowed; she knew she couldn't give the whole truth.

"He's the Governor's…son," Elizabeth lied. "Swann. Nathaniel Swann."

It had been Uncle Nathaniel himself who had once told Elizabeth that if she ever needed a false name for Philip to use his name paired with her own surname. Uncle Nathaniel may not have been as fantastical about pirates as his wife, but dang it, Nathaniel Swift had made sure Philip and Elizabeth knew how to handle themselves if they actually found themselves kidnapped by pirates. Though Elizabeth strongly doubted Philip had retained much of it as he generally thought the topic of piracy to be worthless and irrelevant to his life.

Actually now that she thought about it, Elizabeth probably should have remembered that "how to deal with pirates" conversation when Captain Barbossa asked for her name during their parlay. She might have gotten into a lot less trouble if she had used Uncle Nathaniel's suggestion of a fake name for herself: Becky Skylark, a combination of a shortened version of her aunt's name paired with her mother's maiden name.

Next time for sure.

...Oh God, please let there not be a next time.

"The Governor's son?" Barbossa grinned. "And you're… close?"

Elizabeth only then realised she had been blushing enough from her lie that it looked like a schoolgirl with a crush.

"No!" Elizabeth automatically objected from the years refuting people's insinuations that she had feelings for her own cousin. "No, Philip- I mean, Master Swann is just-"

"How adorable," Barbossa chuckled. "The maid and the governor's son. Good luck with that one Miss Turner."

Elizabeth could only blush as the pirate burst out laughing.

At hearing Koehler and Twigg's laughter, Barbossa scowled and turned on them.

"Bluff all yah want," Barbossa said. "But we all know Sparrow will never be Captain of this ship again. Now get back to work! And stay out of this cabin!"

And with challenging, yet silent glares, Twigg and Koehler reluctantly returned to the deck. It was just when they were out of sight that Ragetti, Pintel, and Barbossa's monkey came out of the cabin. To Elizabeth's disappointment, once again they were too quick to give her a look inside the cabin.

"Well?" Barbossa asked.

"All calm," Pintel reported. To Elizabeth horror, he was hefting a long thin rope of chain over his shoulder. "Might even take a nap. As for the girl, we brought this one."

Passing Elizabeth to Ragetti, Barbossa took the chain. As his monkey crawled up onto his shoulder, Barbossa inspected the chain with a grimace.

"I would have preferred one of the short ones and something thicker, but I suppose this will do." Barbossa held the chain up threateningly to Elizabeth, "Now, Miss Turner. My crew and I have tried to make your stay nice and accommodating, and yet you continue to fight us. Now, I'm a reasonable man, so I'll give ye one last warning. You'll act like a respectable guest, do what I stay, and stop trying to escape. But pull one more stunt, and I'll chain ye to the wall of this cabin and the creature will keep an eye on you. And trust me, you don't want to be on the wrong end of that kind."

As if the creature were listening, at that moment there was a menacing hiss from behind the door.

"Now do we have an accord, Miss Turner?" Barbossa asked.

Elizabeth swallowed, and nodded minutely.

"Yes," she all but whispered.

"Good," Barbossa grinned. "Master Ragetti, Master Pintel, take Miss Turner back to my cabin. I'll feed the creature today."

As Elizabeth was hauled away by the snickering duo, she couldn't help but watch Barbossa load a plate of fish behind her. As he entered the cabin, there was a grin on his face.

"You did fine work today with those two," Barbossa's words were encouraging as he slammed the door behind him.

And as Elizabeth heard the familiar hissing, scrapping, and splashes of water, she wondered what kind of monster could possibly be hidden behind that door?