Chapter One: Because Every Story Must Begin Somewhere
The tavern was noisy and smelled of unwashed humanity. It was smoky and poorly lit. It was also predominately filled with pirates. However, despite all these facts, it was still not quite the sort of tavern that one would find in Tortuga. For one thing, it was too small. For another, there was no perpetual fight raging across the middle regions of the room. It also failed to resemble a Tortuga tavern because the serving wenches, strumpets, and other ladies of questionable virtue were much fewer and farther between than would be found in the buccaneer haven, and of those women who were present, not a single one of them had slapped or otherwise assaulted the pirate captain who was laughing and drinking with several friends in one of the back corners.
Truth be told, no one other than his drinking companions had even recognized him, and that suited Captain Jack Sparrow just fine at the moment. He was not usually very fond of anonymity unless he was actively hiding from someone, but in this case it allowed him to spend an entertaining evening with his friends. It still struck him as odd that he even called anyone "friend" and really meant it. Only a few short years ago he had been completely alone in the world, and yet here he was, having a high time of it with an entire table full of people who he trusted with his life. Cotton, Anamaria and Gibbs were all crewmembers, so trusting them was a bit of a necessity, but the group also included young Will Turner and his bonny lass Elizabeth, the two of whom Sparrow had traveled more than an hundred miles out of his way for, just so that he could "happen to run into them."
This supposedly chance meeting, which had precipitated the evening's festivities, not to mention the festivities every evening for the past five days, had originally been meant to take place in Port Royal. However, when the Scurra Vagas (a.k.a. the Black Pearl with different sails and its crew on their best behavior) pulled into dock, Jack had been informed that Mr. Turner and his wife were spending two months on a small obscure island because Turner had agreed to temporarily take over for its only town's only blacksmith, who was in the process of recovering from a broken collarbone. Having not visited that area in nearly twenty years because it didn't have a lot to offer aside from a nice harbor and some fresh water, Jack had been forced to dig out some of his least used charts in order to get there, but there they were, all because he wanted to spend some time with a couple of friends before going back to the old game of loot and plunder.
Not that Jack would ever admit to any of these things, at least not until he was a lot drunker than he was, and he suspected that that would require more time than what remained before he was due to hoist anchor on the morning tide and leave this backwater little isle for more profitable venues. He had been swilling rum for the better part of two hours and was barely feeling even the slightest effects of the alcohol. Jack frowned into his tankard. He was severely tempted to accuse the tapster of watering down the libations beyond all reason, but there hadn't been anything wrong with the alcohol any of the previous few nights, not to mention the fact that everyone at the table had been drinking from the same collection of bottles and all five of his companions seemed to be getting drunk without the least bit of trouble. In fact, Mr. Cotton, who usually held his liquor better than anyone on the Black Pearl, was already slumped forward, asleep with his face against the battered wooden tabletop after attempting to match Jack drink for drink. As Cotton snored, his parrot, the big blue and yellow macaw that he used to talk for him, continued to croon a wistful song about mermaids, which under these conditions generally translated to, "I'm going to have a really bad hangover tomorrow."
Jack wasn't going to think about it. He took a swig from his tankard and puckered his face in disgust as his mouth was suddenly filled with the tang of rum mixed with dusty spider webs. He paused, then took another tentative sip. This time, all he tasted was rum. He definitely wasn't going to think about it. It was beyond his control, so with the skill perfected over the course of a long lifetime, Jack Sparrow gave a mental shrug and put all traces of worry out of his mind. He set down the tankard and turned his attention back to his companions. And why should he not? After all, he could drink whenever he wanted to, but it wasn't very often that he got to enjoy the company of the daughter of the governor of Jamaica. It was even more rare that he got to enjoy her company while she was three sheets to the wind. To make matters even better yet, he knew that if she decided to burn all the rum the next morning, it would be someone else's problem this time.
Elizabeth was currently giggling like a child as Gibbs, who was sitting across from her, concluded one of his many pirate tales. They were amongst friends, so Gibbs was sticking to the true stories of the crew's own recent adventures (right now it was the one about how just a few weeks ago they had mounted the Pearl's bow- and stern-chasers in the rowboats and, with the help of Cotton's parrot and some fog thicker than pea soup, managed to make a trio of Dutch merchant vessels on their way to St. Maarten think that they were surrounded by an entire fleet of pirate ships), and the picture that Elizabeth presented as she listened, sitting in the corner with the wall on one side and her smiling husband on the other, her face flushed from drinking and alight with laughter, was enough to make a man forget anything. One moment she was leaning forward in rapt attention, the next she was throwing her head back and howling with such laughter as was rarely permitted in the gatherings held by polite society, and the next moment after that she was back to hanging on Gibbs's every word.
Jack had to grin as he watched her. It was good to see her like this, and not just because she was so young and beautiful and oh so very much alive, although of course those factors didn't hurt in the slightest. With just about any other woman in the world, being young and beautiful would have been enough for Jack, but Elizabeth belonged to Will in both body and soul, just as Will belonged to her, and though it would probably surprise a great many people, Jack was willing to respect that bond. He knew that trying to get between the two would be like someone trying to get between himself and the Pearl, so Elizabeth was off limits in that regard. No, the thing that really warmed Jack's heart when he saw Elizabeth in such a state was the fact that she had let herself get that way at all. It meant that she trusted him enough to let down her guard in his presence. He knew because there had been a time when she hadn't. Still, Jack didn't think that she had meant to get quite as plushed to the scuppers as she was just then. She had been following him about one drink for five, which had served her well in the past, but when that strategy was coupled with his own little problem tonight, it lead to some interesting developments. Jack hoped that she wouldn't hate him in the morning. It wasn't like he had been doing it on purpose.
Gibbs began another story. This time it was the one about what happened when several crewmembers aboard the Black Pearl had conspired to make Anamaria believe that she had gotten married to Mr. Bigg, the bald dwarf, while she was drunk during a particularly boisterous stopover in Tortuga. Unfortunately, this particular incident, despite being a few months in the past, was still a sore spot with the lady pirate in question, who quickly gave Gibbs a sharp elbow in the ribs and a kick under the table, thereby ending the story before it could do much more than begin. Gibbs had only gotten as far into the tale as, "So the Pearl caught this little Portuguese ship a few months back. It gave up without a fight, which turned out to be because it didn't have much that was worth fightin' for. Had barely any valuables at all. It was mostly clothes and such, but her captain had these two matching rings and a- Ouch!" at which point Anamaria jabbed and booted him into submission, at least for a few seconds. Then Gibbs got over his surprise enough to yell, "Blast it, woman! What was that for?!?"
Will snickered at the antics of Jack's first mate and quartermaster. This sort of thing happened almost every single time that they got together. The only reason that the two were still allowed to sit next to each other was the fact that no one wanted to be in the middle when Anamaria's hands started flying, which was bound to happen no matter where she was sitting.
"You know darn well what it was for, you old bilge rat!" Anamaria yelled back.
"I wasn't doin' anything!"
"Like hell you weren't!" Anamaria hit him again, this time a punch to the arm. She probably would have smacked him in the face if she hadn't suspected that his bushy whiskers would soften the blow.
"Ow! I was just tellin' Miss Elizabeth 'bout what's happened since we saw her and her husband last!"
"You were telling 'em about those bloody stupid rings!" She didn't hit him, but judging by the way that Gibbs jerked back with a yelp, she had probably kicked him again.
"Darn it, Ana, it happened. S'not like I'm making up lies or anything. I've every right to tell it," Gibbs grumbled, sounding more like a petulant child than like the seasoned pirate that he was.
"If you want to tell about the rings, go right ahead. Then, I get to tell her and Will about you and that so-called lady in New Providence!" She sneered the word 'lady' in such a way that even though neither Will nor Jack had any idea what lady Anamaria was talking about, both instantly knew that the woman must have been repellent even by Joshamee Gibbs's usual low standards, if she had even been a woman at all. Jack, who had been with a lady of his own when the incident (whatever it was) must have occurred, made a mental note to get the full story later. Will, on the other hand, wasn't certain that he would ever be able to learn the full details of whatever might have happened with Gibbs's lady, but speculating over it was enough to remind him of finding Gibbs with the pigs in Tortuga shortly after he had first met Jack, a memory which was always good for a laugh.
Gibbs cringed. "There's no need for that now, Ana." He held up his hands, trying to make peace. "There's no need for that at all." Anamaria glowered a bit more and then backed off. Gibbs let out a sigh of relief, took a long drink straight from one of the few bottles of rum that had yet to be emptied, and then looked apologetically at Elizabeth. "I guess you won't be hearing that one, lass," he said, "leastways not right now. There's always next time." Anamaria snarled and raised her fist, causing Gibbs to quickly add, "but even then you won't be hearin' it from me!" He desperately fished around for something to change the subject. "How's about we do a song instead?"
Elizabeth, who was drunk enough to have gotten thoroughly confused by the altercation between the two pirates, brightened at the mention of a song. "Oh! Oh!" she exclaimed. "I know a song!"
"Well, let's hear it, love," Jack said with a grin. He was always ready for an excuse to sing the Really Bad Eggs Song, as he liked to think of it. However, Elizabeth threw back her head and, at the top of her lungs, started singing something completely different.
"Aboard the good ship Venus,
You really should've seen us,
With a figurehead of a whore in bed
and a mast like a giant--"
Jack leaned over and clapped a rough and rather dirty hand over her mouth before she could finish the line. Once he was certain that she wasn't about to sing anymore, he removed his hand from her face and sat back in his chair, much to the relief or one Mr. William Turner, who had been squashed between the two of them by the sudden action. Elizabeth opened her mouth to start again, but Jack waved at her to remain silent.
"Lizzie darling," he began, "Elizabeth, Mrs. Turner. Ordinarily, I would be the last person to make comments about propriety, but in this case there are several things I must bring to your attention. Number one, your husband is sitting right next to you, and he is sitting right next to me. Number two..." Jack paused, noticing that Elizabeth's full attention was now focused on the fluttering motions that his hands were making as he was trying to list off his points. "You aren't listening to a single word of this, are you?"
Elizabeth's lack of answer was all the affirmation that he needed or could hope to receive. Will, Gibbs, and Anamaria all watched with bemusement as Jack thought for a moment, still holding Elizabeth's attention with a single slightly twitching hand. Then he wiggled his fingers first one way, then another, towards the wall, over Cotton's head. Will had to lean out of the way as his wife followed the meandering path of the pirate's hand. Finally, Jack brought both of his hands together directly in front of his face, causing Elizabeth to lock eyes with him. She jerked back in surprise, then looked around with a touch of chagrin, noticing that not only Jack but the entire table (minus Cotton, of course) was watching her. Even Cotton's parrot was giving her funny looks. "I'm sorry, Jack. Were you saying something?" she asked as if becoming mesmerized by the motions of a man's tar encrusted fingernails was an everyday occurrence.
"Yes, Elizabeth, I was saying something. I was trying to tell you that, number one, your husband is sitting right between the two of us and listening to what both of us are saying and, in your case, singing. Number two, your husband has a habit of swinging and/or throwing very sharp objects when he gets upset, especially when pirates are involved. Number three, your husband is probably going to think that I'm the one who taught you this song. Number four, your husband is probably going to be very upset by your singing this song, which will, by way of numbers one through three, put me, pirate that I am, in great bodily danger."
"You don't think he'll like the song?" Elizabeth began to pout.
"You never know, he might like the song," Jack answered, "but I don't think he'll like the fact that you're the one singing it, so maybe you should just leave well enough alone."
Will sighed, half in embarrassment and half in exasperation. "I think I already have a fair idea of where the song was going," he said.
"Oh, no, you don't." Elizabeth's pout had disappeared, instantly replaced by a wide, drunken grin that looked like it should have contained a few gold teeth. "It gets a lot worse."
"And I didn't teach it to her, Will! I want you to know that," Jack insisted.
"Of course he didn't teach it to me, Will," Elizabeth said with a giggle. Relieved, Jack let out the breath that he had been holding, but Elizabeth wasn't finished. "Mr. Gibbs did." Jack blinked, wondering if he had heard that correctly. Across the table, the older pirate started choking on his drink. Yes, Jack must have heard correctly. "When I was twelve," she continued. Gibbs and Will were now both turning bright red but for distinctly different reasons. Anamaria looked back and forth between the two spluttering men and then broke out laughing. "In fact," Elizabeth went on thoughtfully, oblivious to the reactions of her husband and friends, "he taught it to me the day right after we rescued you from the water. He said I needed to learn something new so I wouldn't sing about pirates anymore."
Jack Sparrow rolled his eyes heavenward. "Oh Lizzie," he groaned melodramatically, doing his best to keep from laughing at Gibbs's and Will's discomfiture, "maybe you should have blamed me for the song after all. At least I can defend myself in a fight." Then, without warning, he threw himself on top of the young blacksmith, looked across the table, and said very calmly, "Run, Gibbs."
Coming next chapter: there's news from Port Royal, and the story's main plot finally gets going!
Author's Note (again): I did not write Elizabeth's song, and I don't know who did. It's presence in this story can blamed on the Poxy Boggards, but they list the song as being "traditional," which means that they don't know who wrote it either. For those who aren't familiar with the full song and are morbidly curious, just do a web search for the phrase "aboard the good ship Venus" and you should get plenty of results. There are several different versions, all of them raunchy. Don't go looking for it if you're easily offended. Okay, that is all. You are now free to return to your regularly scheduled fanfic reading.