#Referring of course to Jack's bargain with Davy Jones

[captain-acab]

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl: this is the curse of the Black Pearl

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest: actually that was more like the curse of some people who happened to be on (and in one case distinctly under) the Black Pearl. Anyway this is the REAL curse of the Black Pearl

[beholdthethunder]

Turning Points

This is in response to the prompt  “Take my hand, show me the way, and never bring me back here...” Submitted by @apirateslifeforme123 and @snowbryneich

Fair warning: angst and fluff to follow...Hope you like it =)

Five years, two hundred forty days since Will Turner abandoned her to captain the Flying Dutchman. That was unfair to say. He hadn’t abandoned her. He had a duty to fulfill, a duty that was thrust upon him lest he slough off his mortal coil. Nevertheless, abandonment was what she felt. Left on a beach with naught but the chest and her sword, the Flying Dutchman disappeared with a green flash, and the Pearl not far behind it. She never said implicitly that she would have wished to stay aboard the Pearl, but Jack never bothered to ask either. The sting of which still burned like a brand upon her skin, a feeling she would become all too familiar with.

There wasn’t much to that little island; a scattering of fruit trees and what could loosely be described as a water source to keep her from withering away, but it didn’t take long for her to realize life could not be sustained upon those sands. She buried the chest deep in the jungle and took to the waters in her longboat. Four days of rough seas tossed her about like a rag doll when suddenly, from the shadows of the storm, a frigate appeared. The Seastar: A merchant vessel barely escaping the storm itself.  Her excitement was trumped only by her trepidation over what kind of men she’d be meeting upon the deck. To her great satisfaction, they knew nothing of her and held no loyalties to any crown. So she bargained with them. Free labor, plus the few shillings she had on her person in exchange for safe passage and a hot meal.

Four years, one hundred days since she was arrested in Nassau. She had sailed all over the Caribbean, aboard a number of different ships, escaping the clutches of the East India Company, only to end up at the doorstep of their largest stronghold. The streets of Nassau were littered with wanted posters. Many of them bearing a striking resemblance to one Jack Sparrow, a few for Hector Barbossa, but a great deal were scribbled with her likeness upon them.

She made her way into a tavern that sat at the end of a dark alleyway, figuring it to be an establishment for those who wished not to be seen. It was her first mistake that evening. Upon entering, all of the eyes that rested on her belonged to East India soldiers on shore leave. Her second mistake that evening was trying to take them all on at once. She was knocked unconscious and apprehended immediately.

She woke tied to the chair of an up and coming officer trying to make a name for himself. He’d barked all sorts of questions at her that never quite reached her ears due to a terrible, unrelenting ringing. Her inability to give him answers only enraged him further. The metal poker seared her skin with a sickening sizzle. She wished she would have stayed more composed during the whole ordeal, but the pain was unlike anything she’d experienced before, and so…she screamed.

They tossed her in a cell and withheld food for days. To this day, she wasn’t sure what information they wanted from her. Perhaps it was none at all, but an excuse to torture her and use her until there was nothing left of her.

Four years, sixty-five days since she’d become the right hand of Charles Vane. He’d been captured not two days previous and two of his men, came to his rescue almost immediately. She begged him to free her. He finally agreed, but it would come at a price.

He had taken her into his employ. Once he realized who she was, he made quick use of her. In the two years she spent doing Vane’s dirty work, she built quite a reputation for herself. She struck fear into the hearts of merchants all over the seven seas at the barest mention of her name. There wasn’t much left of the poor Governor’s daughter, only a ruthless murderess and an occasional bed mate of Captain Charles Vane. It wasn’t the worst arrangement, but he was a possessive man, a sometimes violent man, and freedom soon became a distant concept from a life lived long ago, if ever at all.

Two years, sixty days since they’d docked in Tortuga. Charles had business with a jewel merchant and left her to her own devices for the first time in a long time. She sat at a table near the back, keeping a watchful eye on the patrons. She’d become increasingly aware of people in recent years, the slightest bit of body language could give away an epic story. That night, though, she’d been caught unawares by a figure from her past.

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t the angel of death.” The man slurred drunkenly from behind her, his breath stinging her ear. ���Surprised to see Vane let his bitch off of her leash.”

In one quick motion she grabbed the man by his coat and flipped him over her onto the table, her dagger pressed to his throat. Her eyes widened at the sight. “Jack?” She questioned disbelievingly. In all her travels, she’d heard no word of Captain Sparrow or his misadventures, she presumed him dead. She couldn’t describe what she felt in that moment; anger, relief, guilt, and probably a few others were bubbling in her gut.

“Miss me, love?” He smiled up at her.

“What’s to miss?” She said putting her dagger back in her belt.

“Is that any way to speak to an old friend?” He asked with half hearted grin as he sat up on the table.

“You mean the old friend who just referred to me as Vane’s bitch? Or the old friend who left me on a deserted island with only a chest to keep me warm?” She asked pointedly, with folded arms.

“Forgive me if I wasn’t thinking about her royal murderess’s welfare whilst you were having your one sodding day with the whelp.”

“You thought about it enough when you plunged Will’s dagger into Davy Jones’ heart.” She bellowed at him.

Jack stayed silent. She knew there was something more he wished to say, but he kept it close to the vest as he did all things of great importance to him.

“You’re lucky. I could have killed you, just then.” She added in a softer, more forgiving tone.

“Not likely. I’m rather un-killable these days.” He retorted arrogantly as he sat down in the seat next to her.

“The fountain? It’s real, you’ve found it?” She turned to him with sad excitement. She wished she would have been on that adventure. Treasure hunts and myth chasing were hardly part of her world anymore. She longed for the days when putting a piece of steel through someone’s belly wasn’t always the first course of action.

“Aye, only took me three years to find it too.” He grumbled. “What brings you to Tortuga all by your onesie? From what I hear, you and Charles are nigh inseparable.” His tone was laced with unmistakeable bitterness.

“I’m off duty.” She muttered.

“Grown tired of you, has he? Not surprising, a man like Vane has varied tastes.” He, quipped before taking a sip of his rum.

Her palm collided with his cheek in an instant.

“How dare you!” She screeched at him. “Don't sit there presuming to know all, you arrogant twat. You have no idea what I’ve been through.” She attempted to hit him again, but Jack grabbed her hand mid flight, clutching it tightly.

“You might not have gone through any of it, if you’d chosen differently.” He sneered at her, refusing to loosen his grip on her hand.

She didn't need to be reminded of the difficult choices she was faced with that day during the battle. “Neither of you left me with much of a choice, did you? No matter, I make my own choices now.” She pulled her hand back violently.

“You’re sure of that? From what I hear, Vane makes your choices for you.” Jack began to lean toward her, gaining a positional advantage over her.

“Perhaps I choose to let him.” She answered none too confidently as she retreated backward.

Jack laughed. “Don’t play me for a fool, Lizzie. I know Charles. I know what he’s like and what he likes. You’re no more free sailing with him than you were in Port Royal.” His voice was low, practically vibrating as it reached her. He stared deeply into her eyes, seeing every secret she kept hidden beneath her feathery lashes.

“I’m where I want to be.” She lied, feeling suddenly claustrophobic in such close proximity to Jack. Her breathing had grown ragged, sweat was beginning to form upon her brow as he leaned in closer.

His mouth covered her ear again “Liar.” He whispered. The heat of his breath sent a shiver from the pit of her stomach to her center.

She swallowed hard, trying to contain the heat building up inside her. “You have a better offer?” She managed to exhale in a rasp whisper.

"I've always had the better offer." He purred, sliding his hand along her thigh. She gasped when his fingers lightly grazes the inside of her waistband, his lips ghosting over the skin just behind her earlobe. Her insides were twisting into a knot, ready to explode, but she wouldn’t let him win her over so easily.

"Then you should have offered it when you had the chance." She grunted, pushing him off of her.

"I did,” He barked “and, if you recall, you threw it back in my face when you shackled me to the mast of my own ship and, again, when you married the whelp."

She shouted back at him. “You could have had me, but you left me on that island, and I had to watch your blasted Pearl sail off into the distance.” She rose angrily, keeping her back to Jack.

"It was the least you deserved." He grunted.

“Is that so?” She turned, leaning her back against a pillar next to the table.

Jack’s brow furrowed. ”You want to know why it took me three years to find the fountain?” He stood, stalking her with a feline’s grace.

“Please, enlighten me.”

"I went looking for you first. I had gone back to that bloody island to bring you to the Pearl, but you were gone. I searched the whole bloody world for you until I heard you'd taken up with Vane, and then I realized the truth. Any pirate would do, isn’t that right dearie?” He leered, towering over her, an arm perched above her head against the pillar. “Like I said, the least you deserved.”

“It was Vane or the noose.” She seethed through gritted teeth. “I chose the lesser of two evils. You haven’t the slightest inkling how badly I wished it was you who’d sprung me from that cell in Nassau instead of him, or how I wished we would have come upon the Pearl so that I might leave with it. I didn’t choose him over you. I’ve only ever chosen what was left for me to choose, which, more often than not, has been no choice at all. As a result, I’ve been widowed, deserted, branded, beaten, and taken by privateers and buccaneers alike. Is that not enough to settle the score between us?” She thrusted her chin up at him in defiance.

“Hardly.” He said before capturing her mouth with his. His free arm found its way around her waist, pulling her closer to him. She wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. They were a tangle of mouths and limbs when Jack was unceremoniously yanked backward and thrown to the floor.

“Make one move and I’ll gut you like a fish” Charles Vane spouted with a menacing rage, his sword pointed at the fallen man. “Sparrow?” He squinted upon realizing who had been assaulting his companion. “I should have known.” He said dropping the point of his sword. “You’ve always had the uncanny ability to get your hands on what does not belong to you.”

“I’m afraid she doesn’t belong to you either, Vane. The Dutchman claims this one.” Jack said as he rose to his feet.

“One day every ten years. I’ll take my chances. Come, Elizabeth.” Charles commanded her as he turned to walk out of the tavern.

She didn’t move.

“It doesn’t seem she wants to be going anywhere with you, mate.” Jack spoke seriously.

“Elizabeth, let’s go.” He commanded her again.

She stayed put.

“I’m not going to ask you again.” Vane marched to her and violently grabbed her arm, yanking her with him.

She struggled to pull her arm from his grip. Tighter and tighter he squeezed until she stopped resisting and followed behind him. She gave a pleading look to Jack for just a second before they exited the tavern.

“You belong to me, do you understand?” Vane hissed at her, pulling her roughly to his side.

Two years, forty-five days since the Pearl overtook the Ranger, rescuing her from servitude. Jack had followed Vane for two weeks, waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The Ranger was within an inch from sinking and Vane within an inch of his life when he finally surrendered. Jack had beaten Vane into a bloody pulp. If she hand’t stopped Jack, he would have killed him.

“Jack.” She lay a hand on him. His shoulders flinched at her touch, the sound of her voice shook him from his enraged daze. “It’s done with. He surrendered.” She continued.

Jack’s breathing was labored as he tried to calm himself, his eyes never straying from the bloodied captain.

“Jack.” She whispered to him again. “Take my hand, take me to the Pearl.” She put her hand in his. “And never bring me back here.” He turned his head toward her and she rested a comforting palm on his cheek as he nodded with closed eyes.

Two years, ten days since Jack first uttered that he loved her. She’d been cross with him for something too minuscule to remember, and they’d been bickering like squabbling gulls for days. His apology finally came with a professing of love and the two shared vows upon the deck of the pearl not a few weeks later.

One year, nine months since she told Jack she was with child. It was the happiest she’d ever seen him.

One year since she stopped counting down the days. The day her son was born was the happiest she’d ever been. Every year after that would be a reminder of just how happy she remained.