Chosen Path

“Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me!”



Elizabeth smiled at Billy’s song, hoisting her skirts and weaving through the tall grass. Billy raced ahead, singing merrily.



A town had sprung up on the island where Elizabeth and Will had lain together for the first time as husband and wife. She had always thought of it as their island, much like she had a “their island” with Jack. But no longer.



There was a dock, small, but large enough for the Pearl to lower her gangway. Billy had run ahead of her, eager to see the fabled green flash. In truth, it was fortunate that he ran, and Elizabeth hurried to keep up. It was nearly sunset.



“Tell me again about the green flash, Mister Gibbs!” Billy’s voice echoed across the deck as he chased after the old sailor.



“Well, lad, you know what they say. It signals when a soul comes back from the dead.”



“Are we going to see it?”



“Aye, that’s the hope, isn’t it?”



It was the hope. There was no guarantee, though. Elizabeth had spent the past eight years telling herself, and Hector, that all she had to do to break the curse was be there on the appointed day. Now that the day was here, she couldn’t quell the doubts that said she needed to love him, love him far more than she did.



The docks were growing closer. She didn’t need to turn to know when Hector stood at her side. “Mrs. Turner. I’ve fulfilled me promise to ye. Got you here, today.”



Elizabeth stiffened. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d called her “Mrs. Turner.” Strange, perhaps, that he would do so now, but she thought she understood.



“Thank you.”



Hector’s arms came around her, and she leaned into his embrace. His lips in her hair, the way he tucked her head against his neck. It was so familiar, so easy. “Cariño,” he whispered, his voice catching slightly.



She knew what he wanted to say, knew what he was thinking. He doubted, always doubted whether she would return. They’d had the argument too many times to count; there was no sense to bringing it up again, not now.



All she could do was twist in his arms and kiss him, making promises with her lips that would fall on deaf ears, had she spoken them aloud.



And then it was time.



The outskirts of town led to a grassy field, with the cliffs that hung over the sand, under which she and Will had once taken shelter. The breeze off the ocean was warm, the sky was clear. Would Calypso be forgiving? She was here, she had kept Will’s heart safe; that was all he had asked of her. She had fulfilled her end of the bargain. But would it be enough?



Elizabeth smiled at her son and pulled him close. Indeed, he had the most piratey of pirates’ lives any child could wish for. He had grown up on the most notorious pirate ship in the Caribbean, likely the world by now, learning from the best pirates alive. At his age, Elizabeth would have happily traded all of her fine clothes and fancy linens for a taste of the life Billy lived.



Ten years of memories swarmed in Elizabeth’s mind. Ten years of living without Will, nearly eight of which had been spent with Hector. Elizabeth smiled to remember the months when he’d been Captain Barbossa to her, the months when they tested each other, flirting, pushing, daring each other to act on their attraction. Months turned to years of cozy nights in the Captain’s cabin, sharing supper, wine, a good book, or just the pleasure of each other’s company. They’d had eight years of treasure hunts, exploring new lands, battles, wounds, deaths, and births.



They’d lost blessedly few of the Pearl’s crew to death. Some perished in battle, and one sailor had been flung from the rigging in a particularly nasty storm; they’d not been able to turn back in time to save him. Harder was when even the few mouthfuls of Agua de Vida from Elizabeth’s flask had not been enough to save Cotton. He’d gone peacefully, at least, and they’d sent him in a longboat to the Dutchman’s distant embrace.



Elizabeth had sobbed in Hector’s arms that night. “I ne’er knew he meant so much to you, me girl.” Hector’s words were soft as his arms held strong around her shoulders, one hand stroking her hair.



“He didn’t.” She rubbed her cheeks with the heel of her palm, resting her head on Hector’s shoulders. “I mean, he did, but…it’s not that.” Hector was silent as he waited for Elizabeth to compose herself, to compose her reason. “How old are you?”



“Beggin yer pardon?”



Elizabeth sniffled, and pushed herself up on her elbow, brushing loose hairs from Hector’s face. “Cotton was…nearly seventy, but he’d had water from the Fountain. If it couldn’t sustain him, only a few years later, what does that mean for you? For us?”



“I’m not seventy.”



“I know. But you’re older than Jack, and he’s forty-eight, at least.”



“’Lizabeth.” He caught her hand in his and drew it to his lips, lacing his fingers through hers. “I ain’t going nowhere. I’ve no intention of dyin’, leastaways with the children so young.”



Elizabeth pressed trembling lips to his. “Do you promise?”



“Aye. Wouldn’t leave you alone.”



She snuggled closer, sobs subsiding at last. “Good.”



Difficult as it had been to lose those crew, hardest had been the day when Will himself had stepped onto the deck of the Pearl, more than a year before Elizabeth had expected to see him.



“Will!” Elizabeth rolled up her charts and hurried across the deck. Her initial smile faded quickly as she realized that her erstwhile husband’s presence signified chilling tidings. “What are you doing here?”



“I…don’t actually know.” Will glanced around the deck, but his gaze didn’t stay long in any one place. “Calypso sent me, said it was a special case. But no one here is dead or dying. At least, none on this deck. Are there others?”



Elizabeth glanced around. The children, her own, the MacIntyres and little Lee Mullroy, were tucked in a corner with their tutor. It was a bright, windy day; all hands were on deck, working or enjoying the sun. All hands…except one pair.



Elizabeth’s heart leapt to her throat. Hector had traded his shift for a lie-in; he’d slept poorly for a few nights and feared to fall ill. It was unlike him to beg off work, but Elizabeth had taken the helm for him before, and she would sooner see him spend one day abed than several weeks ill.



Had he been worse off than he’d let on? She questioned him, but he’d insisted it was mere fatigue…it was only a few feet to the cabin door from where Elizabeth stood, but the air was as thick and impenetrable as ocean; her boots were made of lead.



Finally, she ripped open the door. “No!” On his knees, slumped over, Hector’s body shook, and Elizabeth raced to his side. Heedless of Will’s presence, she fell to her knees beside the man she loved. “Hector, Hector, what is it? Are you alright?”



“Close the door.” His voice was strained, warbly.



“It’s alright, you’re going to be alright.”



“Close the damn door! Can’t let ‘em see me like this. Can’t let ‘em see…”



He raised his head at last. His eyes were red, his cheeks were wet, his expression hollow. But not dead. Not dying. Elizabeth’s gaze fell to the motionless bundle in his arms. Jack. “Oh, Hector…”



“He was me boy, me good boy. He’s not been well, but I’ve been watchin’ o’er him. Seemed to be doin’ better. I thought…but this morning, he just curled up with me…thought he was goin’ to sleep…he won’t wake, ‘Lizabeth. He won’t…”



“Shh,” Elizabeth wrapped her arms around him. “Will’s here. He’ll take care of him, see him to the Other Side.”



Hector nodded slowly. “Give us a moment?”



Elizabeth kissed his cheek softly. “As much as you need. We’ll be on deck.”



Elizabeth spotted Will by the rail as she closed the cabin door behind her.



Will’s expression was curious, concerned. “Is it Barbossa or Jack?” He’d been away from the Pearl for too long to know which Captain claimed the cabin.



Elizabeth joined Will by the rail, her breath shaking. “Jack.”



Will let out an audible sigh. “Wow. I never thought I’d see this day. Can’t say I was too fond of the man, but I didn’t want him to die. Again.”



Elizabeth shook her head. “Not Jack Sparrow. The monkey. Barbossa’s Jack.”



“Oh.” Will’s expression relaxed, then turned to confusion. “I’m here for a monkey?”



Elizabeth nodded. “Please, be kind, that monkey means the world to him. He’s devastated.”



“I’m sure. Perhaps you can comfort him.”



“Will.” Elizabeth narrowed her eyes. This was not the time for petty jealousy.



Will shrugged. “I miss you.”



“I miss you too.” It was the thing to say, but in truth, she hadn’t thought much of Will lately. Occasionally, when she noticed something of Will in Billy, or heard the soft thumping of an extra heartbeat in the stillest of nights, but most days, she was too absorbed in the goings-on of her life to suffer much thought for a man who was not among the living.



Barbossa appeared on deck then, somewhat more composed than he had been, Jack swaddled in an old blanket of Grace’s. The crew had noticed Will’s presence, and gathered to pay their last respects for the only non-human who had been as useful as any human on board. The children watched wide-eyed, only Billy approaching to bid a tearful goodbye to the first friend he’d ever had.



Elizabeth held Billy to her side as Barbossa rose to his feet and approached Will.



“Captain Turner.”



“Barbossa.”



“Ye’ll take care of me boy?”



“By Calypso’s orders.” Will nodded. “I will.”



Will accepted the lifeless bundle and faded back to the Dutchman with little ceremony. Once on board the ghost ship, the bundle of monkey sprang to motion, plucking the bloodstone Will wore around his neck and scrambling into the rigging with his prize.



Elizabeth watched from the rail as Will reached after the monkey, but fell short, finally giving up and stalking across the deck to the helm. As the Dutchman submerged, Elizabeth heard Hector’s soft laugh beside her. “That’s me boy.”



Elizabeth squeezed Billy’s arm slightly, keeping her gaze on the horizon as memory faded. The sun was low, getting lower. Her stomach twisted. If it didn’t work, if she had truly failed Will, how would she ever live with herself? Her breath caught in her throat. Any moment, the last bit of light would dip below the horizon. It would work. It had to work.



And then in a flash, the world was bathed in green. Was it possible? Was it really real? She looked to Billy and he returned her gaze in wide-eyed wonderment. He had seen it too, then. She turned back to the horizon, and the ship was there. It had worked, truly worked; Will was coming home to her.



Only he wasn’t. She had no home to offer Will. Elizabeth pulled Billy against her side as the ship sailed closer. She dreaded the conversation that would come. But it was inevitable.



“Ma, can we go down to the shore?”



Elizabeth’s fingers clenched for a moment in his hair, then she nodded. “Yes. Yes, let’s get closer.”



They skidded down the cliffs to the sandy beach, climbing across the rocks to the wet sand and the waves, pushing further up the sand. The ship, the Flying Dutchman, stopped growing closer. There was no longboat, but then she spotted a lone figure breaking the surface. Will, swimming, like a madman!



Just a few more strokes and he stood, wading to shore. Promises forgotten, Elizabeth couldn’t resist the pull. He was still her Will, after all. Still the man she had grown up loving, the first man she had ever loved, and he could never be less than dear to her.



She was in his arms before she knew how she got there. The world was spinning and she was flying and her cheeks were wet and salty, but she couldn’t say if it was from the sea or her own tears. “Oh, Will!”



“Elizabeth! Elizabeth, you’re here, you’re really here.”



“Of course I’m here! Of course, Will.”



“You kept your promise, and I kept mine.” He tugged her arm free from where it had twined around his neck and placed her hand on his chest. A slow rise and fall as he breathed, and then she felt it. Once, twice, and so soft, but then it grew stronger. Thump thump. Elizabeth broke into a slow grin.



“It worked.”



“I came back, as promised, whole and alive.”



It had worked, truly worked! Elizabeth flung her arms around him again, stumbling as the waves crashed around her knees. Will caught her before she fell, and then his head was turning, his mouth tilting toward hers.



For an instant, time stopped. He intended to kiss her; he expected her kiss. Of course, his wife would kiss him. But she wasn’t his wife, not truly, not anymore. She’d kissed but one man in the past six years, and he would not appreciate it if she kissed another.



Of course, her rather ignoble side reminded her, he’ll never know, and what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him any. It was Will, after all, and it had been so very long, and one kiss wouldn’t be so very terrible. But her honorable side gave her pause. Even if Hector doesn’t know, you’ll know, and you know he would never betray you that way. That was true. He wouldn’t. He might give other girls a wink and a smile sometimes, but he slept every night by Elizabeth’s side.



Will moved toward her, and Elizabeth jerked back suddenly, stumbling toward the beach.



“What’s wrong?”



She had to tell him. How could she tell him? He was her husband, how could she tell him she couldn’t be his wife? “Will…it’s just that it’s been so very long…”



But instead of looking concerned, he smiled. “Ah, I think I understand.” He took a slow step closer, brushing the loose strands of hair from her cheek as he gently tilted her head up to his, another arm snaking around her waist.



Elizabeth shook her head. “You mistake me. It’s been…too long.”



Will frowned. “What do you mean?”



Elizabeth glanced to her feet, but there were no answers in the white foam capping the waves. It was so easy to talk to Jack about Hector, sometimes in far more explicit detail than Hector would likely appreciate, just because it was fun to watch Jack squirm.



It was not so much fun to watch Will blink in confusion.



“Ten years, Will. It’s too long for anyone to wait. I tried, believe me, I tried. And it’s not that I didn’t love you, because I always loved you, Will.”



Will shook his head, withdrawing his hands. “You were unfaithful.”



Her stomach twisted, her fists balled in her skirts. Slowly, Elizabeth nodded.



“I see.”



“Will – ”



“Do you love him?”



She found she couldn’t bring herself to look in his eyes. Her voice caught in her throat as she turned her gaze up to the beach, out to the horizon, anywhere but at Will.



“Elizabeth?”



Finally, she met his eyes, pleading, prompting. She nodded again. “I do.”



Will pursed his lips. “So that’s how it is then.” At her silence, he turned, starting out of the water, and headed up the beach. Billy got little more than a passing glance.



“Will, wait!” Elizabeth chased him, leaping through the waves to the water’s edge. “Don’t be this way!”



Will stopped, whirled around. “How did you expect me to be? Did you honestly expect me to be happy for you?”



“I thought…” Elizabeth blinked rapidly. “I mean, I’m here, just as I promised. And you’re here. We beat the curse, Will. You’re alive!”



Will shook his head. “I have never understood Davy Jones so well as I do in this moment.”



“Will!”



“I thought I was coming home. I thought I’d have a home to return to, but instead I have a wife who’s run off with a pirate, a son who doesn’t know me, no house, no ship - ”



“You have freedom! You’re alive, you can do anything you want! Be anything you want!”



Will took a step closer, his fingers curling around her arms. “What I want is to be your husband. Can I have that?”



“Will, I’ve told you - ”



“Unfaithful, yes. Elizabeth, I mean it, I can forgive you that. Ten years…it is too long, and I can forgive you. Be my wife again. We can finally start our life together – that’s all I ever wanted.”



Elizabeth closed her eyes, imagining the life she’d always pictured with Will. The cozy house with a forge in the back, two or three beautiful children running about, perhaps a maid or a cook to help; she could run the shop, she’d always been better at sums than Will. Will would come home at night, sweaty and exhausted, but not too tired to make some time for his wife and children.



It was a life she’d dreamed of for years. A steady life, in a house that didn’t move from day to day. Will would be successful; blacksmiths always had work. That was more than she could say for piracy. There had been more than a few tense months at sea when they hadn’t done so well. She could still hear her children’s sobs of hunger. Elizabeth shivered.



A life with Will, as a blacksmith’s wife, would be easier, perhaps. Safer, no doubt. It could have been a fine life. But it wasn’t her life, not anymore.



“Our life together? In which you work at the forge and I run the house and raise the children?”



Will’s eyes were serious. “What’s wrong with that?”



Elizabeth shook her head, smiling sadly. “Well, for one thing, I’m a pirate, Will. Being a blacksmith’s wife…it might have made me happy once. But I can’t be that person anymore.”



Will took her hands. “Elizabeth…I can’t. Piracy…that isn’t freedom, it’s running, always running away from the law, from society, never having a place to run to. How can you be free when you have no home?”



“The Pearl is home.”



“Not to me.”



“I can’t stay on land, and you won’t go to sea.” Elizabeth shook her head. “It can’t work, Will.”



“I never said I wouldn’t. I never wanted to be a pirate, but I always wanted to be with you. I’d rather live a life at sea with you than have the finest smithy in all of the Caribbean without you.”



Elizabeth swallowed hard. “Oh, Will…”



He smiled gently. “But it has to go both ways, Elizabeth. What would you give up, to be with me? We could work it out, if you wanted. But you have to give too.”



Elizabeth closed her eyes, breathed in and out. What would she have to give up, to be with Will? Hector, certainly, that was obvious. The children, could she take them from their father? The only father they’d ever known? She couldn’t very well pretend that Grace was Will’s daughter. And always, there was the sea, whose relentless call wouldn’t let Elizabeth dwell too long on land.



Elizabeth shook her head. “Will, I can’t start over. I already have a life. I have a home, a family. And I’m happy, Will, I’m truly happy. Please believe me when I say that I never wanted to hurt you. But I can’t walk away from everything I have. It’s not a perfect life; it’s harder than I ever imagined it would be. But I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”



Will’s hopeful smile faded. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”



“I couldn’t!” She pressed her lips together. “You were dead! I couldn’t just stop living.”



Will ran a hand through his hair. “Why did you build a life that has no room for me in it?”



Elizabeth’s voice caught in her throat. She had never meant to exclude Will from her life. But he was right; she couldn't very well have two husbands, and though she had never formally married Hector, they had lived as husband and wife for long enough that it was a mere matter of semantics by now.



"I didn't intend it, but loving is part of living, and Hector and I fell in love. We didn't plan to, it just happened. We're the same, he and I. We understand each other, and he makes me happy. I can't have you both. I chose him."



Will's brow furrowed. "I won't pretend to understand why."



Elizabeth managed a half-smile. "I know." She could give a hundred reasons, but none were sufficient to describe her relationship with Hector to the man whose place he had essentially taken.



Will sighed and turned his gaze back to the horizon. “What about my son? I never wanted to leave a son fatherless, the way my father did.”



Elizabeth nodded at Billy, who was tossing pebbles into the waves – “Did you see that one, Ma?” – and sighed.



“He has a father who loves him very much.”



“Barbossa?”



“Captain Barbossa, if you don’t mind.”



Will clenched and unclenched his fists. “I do mind, Elizabeth. I don’t want him raising my son; I don’t want him anywhere near my son! Raising him as what? A pirate? A thief, a killer?”



“A sailor, first. But a pirate, yes.”



“He could be an honest sailor. A merchant, or he could join the Navy. But under Barbossa’s influence he’ll be - ”



“Free. That’s what he’ll be. He’ll be like me, like Hector, like Jack, and your father.”



Will settled on a rock, keeping his gaze steady on Elizabeth. “Barbossa murdered my father, or had you forgotten?”



Elizabeth folded her arms. “And he’s free now, so it’s done with. How many died as a consequence of your betrayal? Don’t talk to me of sins, Will Turner, for your hands are no cleaner than any of ours.”



Will’s voice was soft. “Would you like a precise number? I know; I carried them to their final resting place. Do you know how many you’ve killed in ten years? Have you counted? Did you even mourn them?”



Elizabeth shook her head. “We only killed when necessary. We never sank a ship we didn’t have to. We always spared women, unless they fought, and children.”



“Bollocks!” Will sprang to his feet and stepped closer. “You’re the Bonny Swann, aren’t you? I’ve heard tales, and I always prayed I was wrong, that it wasn’t you. They say you kill for the fun of it, that you bloody revel in it. Then you retreat to your cabin with your lover,” he spat the word, “and – and fornicate in celebration!”



Elizabeth met his eyes, unflinching. “Sailor’s stories.” She shook her head. “They’re not true.”



“Then tell me what is true.”



Elizabeth sighed. “We’re pirates. We do what is necessary. We take what we need, but leave enough that the ship can survive. Sometimes we kill, yes, but only if we have to, in defense of our ship or our lives. And we celebrate our take – gold and rum and good food.” Will flung his hand up and started away. Elizabeth stalked after him. “And yes, Hector and I share a cabin, have done for years. We share a bed, but it’s not…bestial. We love each other; Will, we’ve a child together”



Will twisted around abruptly, looking from her to Billy. “No, not Billy. We have a daughter. She’s five; she’s home with her father.”



“Home?”



“On the Pearl.”



“I see.”



Will rested his hand on his sword hilt, staring at the horizon, the sand, looking anywhere but at Elizabeth. He started away, and Elizabeth’s stomach lurched. This was wrong; she couldn’t let him leave, not like this. She hiked up her skirts and hurried after him.



“Will! Will, don’t go.” Elizabeth took his arm, and spun around, blocking his path. “Please, Will, don’t leave like this. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”



“No, you’re not. If you were truly sorry, you would stay.”



Elizabeth opened her mouth, but found no words with which to respond. The wind tugged her hair loose from its bindings; she tucked it back behind her ear.



“Where’s the Pearl?”



“Docked on the other side of town. Will, what are you doing?”



He had already started climbing the dunes. “I have a few things I’d like to say to Captain Barbossa.”



Elizabeth reached for him, slipping in the hot sand. “Will, if you hurt him - ”



He stopped and turned. “I know. I’ve already felt your cold steel on my neck in defense of him.”



Elizabeth met his eyes silently for a moment, before he turned away again. She turned and called over her shoulder. “Billy, let’s go.”



“Aw, ma! Already?”



“I’m in no mood to argue with you, young man. Let’s go. Now.”



He scoffed and pocketed a few shells. “I’m coming, I’m coming.”



* * *



Barbossa stood at the rail behind Gracie, ready to catch her if she lost her footing. She wouldn’t; she’d had sea legs before she could walk, and clung to the lines as she balanced on the rail, watching the horizon. Nevertheless, it was hard to let her go.



She was, quite possibly, the only piece of Elizabeth he had left.



“She’s coming back, mate.” Jack perched on the rail next to Grace and leaned back against the lines, offering his bottle to Barbossa.



Barbossa shook his head, refusing both the rum and the sentiment. “Believe it when I see it, Jack.”



“Uncle Jack, have you ever seen the green flash?”



Jack sat up, flashing a sparkling grin at the girl. “Indeed I have, lov - ” Barbossa cleared his throat – “er, lass. Caused one meself, I did.”



“You didn’t really go to the Locker, though, did you Uncle Jack? That’s just a made up story.”



“Calumny! I did so go to the Locker. Was your dear ol’ dad what fetched me back. And yer mum, too, but fitting that, considering she - ”



“Alright, Jackie, I don’t think we need to be dredging up old wounds.”



“Don’t see why not.” Jack swigged his rum. “Seems appropriate, given that it seems to be a day for reuniting with old friends.” Barbossa narrowed his eyes. “Enemies,” Jack amended. Barbossa’s lip twitched. “Acquaintances?”



Barbossa shrugged. His personal view of Will Turner was rather immaterial in this particular instance. It was only Elizabeth’s mercurial allegiance that mattered.



A sharp intake of breath drew his attention. At Grace’s gasp, he looked up to see the world awash for an instant in bright green light.



So it had worked. Captain Turner had returned.



“Was that it?”



“Aye, me girl.”



“Do it again!”



Barbossa chuckled and turned Gracie around on the rail. “No, my dear. Once is all most sailors ever get to see. Yer lucky you got to see it at all.”



“Well,” Grace pouted. “I want to see it again.”



She held her arms out for him to lift her off the rail. “Ooh, yer getting heavy. Be careful what ye wish for, Gracie. Best if the dead stay that way. Don’t want too many of ‘em comin’ back.”



Grace rested her head on his shoulder. “But what if we could bring Jack back?”



Barbossa buried a hand in his daughter’s unruly hair and sighed. “Aye, I’d bring back our Jack.” He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and lowered her feet to the ground.



Just then, young Lee Mullroy darted from his place at the rail and tapped Grace on the shoulder. “You’re it, Gracie, can’t catch me!”



Grace gave his shark’s fang a quick tug, then ran after Lee. “Yeh best be runnin’, Lee, ‘cause when I catch you, I’ll pummel your arms to mincemeat!” She cackled as she darted across the deck, and Barbossa returned to his full height, rubbing his ear first, then his lower back. Lifting small children was not something his body appreciated.



He returned to his post at the rail, his joints cracking.



“Time for another trip to the Fountain, mate?”



Barbossa shrugged.



“Been planning a trip meself. Perhaps we might make another joint venture of it?”



“We might. But I’ll be keepin’ me ship. And me cabin. Especially me cabin.”



“Knowing what you and Lizzie get up to in there, not sure I want it.”



Barbossa laughed softly, then sighed. “Provided, of course, that she comes back.”



“She’ll be back.”



“It’s Turner.”



Jack nodded and upended the nearly-empty bottle. “Try not to think about it so much.” Jack hopped off the rail. “Shall I find you some wine?”



It seemed Jack was of a mind to drink him out of his stores of rum. Barbossa tried to remember why he had asked Jack to join them. Again. “If yeh don’t mind.”



Barbossa turned back to watching the lone road leading through the town. What was she doing? How long could it take to tell Turner it was over? Unless, of course, she wasn’t telling him that. She might be…doing other things with Turner. She might be plotting ways to tell Barbossa it was over.



He was still peering through his spyglass when Jack returned with the wine and rum. He snapped it shut with a muttered curse.



“Why Hector, I thought you’d never ask.” Jack swayed into his line of vision, thrusting a wine bottle into his hand. Barbossa curled a lip at Jack and uncorked the bottle.



“She’s coming back. With Turner.”



Jack grunted. “Bugger indeed.” He offered the bottle he held. “Sure you don’t want rum?”



“I’ll stick with the wine.” Barbossa slumped against the rail and waited. Jack, for his part, was blessedly silent, but his company was welcome. This, of course, was why he was here. Sparrow was perhaps slightly less liable than Barbossa to just shoot the bloody whelp, and in truth, it would be better if nobody died this day.



“What the hell is she thinkin’, bringing him here?”



“You expect me to know what goes on in that woman’s head?” Jack shook his head and swigged his rum, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “She’s your woman, mate. You figure it out.”



Barbossa sighed and turned back to his ship, leaning backwards on the rail. A gaggle of small feet thundered past him, shrieking and yelping. Grace led the pack, having evidently tagged Colin MacIntyre, who brought up the rear.



“Ship’s bloody overrun with pint-sized pirates,” Jack muttered.



Barbossa chuckled. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”



Jack’s moustache twitched. “How many of ‘em yours?”



“Just the two. For now.”



“For now?” Jack choked on his rum. “You’re not actually trying for more?”



Barbossa smirked at him. “If it happens, it happens. But the tryin’ be the fun part.”



In truth they’d been trying for the better part of two years, without success. “Elizabeth,” he’d murmured one night, on a day when Billy and Grace had been unusually well-behaved. “Let’s have another.”



“Another?”



“Baby. Try for a boy.” He peppered her neck with kisses as he pulled her toward the bed.



“Hector,” she pushed him back, holding him at arms length and cocked her head. “Do you really want another child? Or are you just hoping for more lovemaking?”



“I’d not turn down more lovemaking.” Things had cooled some in that area; while they were still affectionate, there were many nights when they fell asleep after no more than a few kisses. Though after a day of carrying a three year old around and arguing with a too-clever-for-his-own-good seven year old, he was easily as exhausted at day’s end as was Elizabeth.



“I knew it,” Elizabeth teased.



He shook his head, took her arms, and pulled her down to sit beside him in bed. “Why not have another child? They’re growin’ up so fast; Billy’s near old enough to be a cabin boy, Grace is hardly a baby anymore. Why not, Elizabeth?”



“I’m not sure we need another mouth to feed.”



“Bah. We can afford it. There be so many children already on this ship, what with the MacIntyres, the Mullroy lad, and Ragetti’s baby girl. What’s one more?”



Elizabeth shook her head, her face the picture of bewilderment. “You really want a baby?”



He nodded, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “Aye. Please, Elizabeth, cariño, beautiful Elizabeth.” He punctuated each word with a kiss until she fell to giggling.



“Alright, if you want one that badly. We’ll try. But you have to promise to help this time.”



“I helped plenty with Gracie.”



“Nappies, Hector.”



He narrowed his eyes. “Pirate Captains don’t change nappies.”



Elizabeth raised an eyebrow and folded her arms. “I’m the bloody Pirate King and I did it for two children. Nappies.”



Barbossa shut his eyes and sighed. “Alright. Nappies.”



He opened his eyes to see her break into a bright grin as she pushed him back against the pillows. She kissed him deeply, then broke away to murmur softly against his lips, “alright. We’ll have a baby.”



His hand worked its way under her shirt and he pulled her close against him. “Think ‘boy.’”



It hadn’t worked, though, another troubling reminder of his age. Perhaps he’d never been able to father a child without divine intervention, and their failure hadn’t had to do with age at all. Whatever the cause, while the number of “crew” who had more fingers than years continued to rise, only one claimed the name Barbossa.



“You’ve changed, mate.”



Barbossa had to concede the point. “Maybe. Fatherhood’ll do that to yeh. Should try it, Jack.”



“What, me? Babies?” Jack waggled his fingers. “Don’t reckon that’d work out so well. I’ll take me chances with the Fountain.”



Barbossa shook his head. “Can’t live forever, Jackie. One day that Fountain might run dry, and where will you be then? Passin’ on. S’the only thing that’s dead certain.”



Jack quirked an eyebrow and pulled another mouthful of rum. “Didn’t think you meant it quite so literally as to spawn. Ah!” Jack hopped off the rail as footsteps sounded on the gangway. “If it isn’t William Turner. Welcome back to the land of the living.”



Elizabeth offered a half smile, and Billy scrambled aboard, quickly absorbed into the game of tag going on around them. But Turner spared not a glance for Jack as he drew his pistol, advancing on Barbossa. Barbossa thrust his wine bottle into Jack’s arms and drew his own flintlock, taking a few steps back. Elizabeth started after Will, but he held up an arm to her. “Now, Captain Turner,” Barbossa forced a jovial tone. “Surely we can reach some sort of an accord that doesn’t require the use of gunpowder.”



“Do you love her?”



Barbossa eyed the pistol that was far too close to his chin for his liking. “Put that away, boy.”



“Do you love her?” Will emphasized every word.



“Course I love her. Think I’d still be here if I didn’t?” Barbossa scoffed. “Love her more’n anything in the world.”



“Is that so?” Will advanced. “More than anything? More than gold, rum? Your ship?” Barbossa sniffed at what Will didn’t know. For over a year, they’d sailed on the Empress in Singapore while the Pearl found her way back to Jack. He’d missed the ship, and they’d had a hell of a time retrieving her, but Elizabeth was never happier as when she was Captain, and it was a small sacrifice to see her smile so.



“Aye.”



Will leaned in. “Would you do anything for her? She deserves that. Would you die for her?”



Barbossa snatched Will’s pistol, and with the advantage of surprise, forced his arm down. “I live for her.” He bared his teeth at Will, who flinched and pulled back. “But the choice be hers to make. Not ours.”



“And I’ve made my choice.” Elizabeth stepped between them, and leaned back so that her shoulders rested against Barbossa’s chest. Her touch soothed the ache that had developed in his gut, cooled the fiery burn of his raging blood. “My place is here.”



Will’s breaths came loudly as he stuffed his pistol back into his belt. “Barbossa. If you ever hurt her - ”



“Will!” Elizabeth jumped, and Barbossa rested a hand on her waist, stilling her.



“Captain Turner, I assure you that won’t be necessary.”



Will took a step closer. “If I so much as think you might be hurting her, I swear to all the powers that you will regret it every day for the rest of your life. Which I would see to it was not so very long.”



“Ye’ll ne’er hear such a thing.”



Turner met his eyes for a moment, and Barbossa did his best to let his feelings for Elizabeth show. There would never be friendship between them, barely a grudging respect, but for Elizabeth’s sake, there could perhaps be civility. Perhaps.



“Take care of my son.” Will’s voice was strained, but sincere.



For the sake of civility, Barbossa declined to correct his use of the possessive. “Aye. That’s something I can guarantee.”



Will sighed. “Elizabeth, is this truly your choice then? This is where your heart lies?”



Elizabeth nodded. “It is. This is my home, my family. This is the path I choose. I wish it didn’t hurt you, Will, but I’m not sorry.”



Will nodded slowly. “So be it.” He reached a hand to her and she caught it, squeezed once. Will leaned in as though to kiss her, but apparently thought better of it and pulled away. “Goodbye, Elizabeth.”



Elizabeth’s voice caught as she spoke. “Goodbye, Will.”



With that, Will turned away. He glanced at Jack, who lounged uneasily against the rail. “I always thought it would be you.”



Jack’s smile held just a touch more regret than Barbossa preferred to see. “So did I, mate. There’s a place for you on me crew, if you want it.”



“Where’s your ship?”



Jack shrugged and swayed. “I’m in the market?”



Will laughed softly. “No, thanks. I’ve had quite enough of the sea these past ten years. I’ll stick with solid ground.”



Jack nodded and raised his bottle. “Then here’s luck to you, Will Turner.”



“Same to you. With the ship.” And with that, Will turned his back on the Pearl, on Jack, Barbossa, and Elizabeth. He never looked back.



* * *



“Yo ho yo ho a pirate’s life for me…” Elizabeth stood at the bow of the Pearl as she sailed into the night, singing softly. There was no turning back now. She had made her choice, and though it hurt to think of poor Will, alone on shore, it would have hurt more to leave her home.



The heavy thud of approaching boots drew her attention. Her stomach still fluttered in anticipation of Hector’s touch. He placed his hands softly onto his shoulders, and she leaned into him, as he wrapped his arms around her. When his hands slid down her arms to cover her own hands, she spread her fingers apart, ever so slightly, beneath his hand. His fingers slid easily into the spaces she left. Her eyelids fluttered shut at his audible exhale. Interlocked hands for their interlocked paths.



“Y’alright?”



She nodded. “I am. This is what I always wanted; it’s where I’m meant to be. This was my first pirate ship. The first one I saw, the first one I was on…how could I choose anything else?”



“And me?”



“Of course! Will…” Elizabeth sighed. “I’ll always care for him, I think, but he is the guardian of his own heart now. You are my family. This is where I want to be.”



He drew her deeper into his embrace. “I’ll not be callin’ ye ‘Mrs. Turner’ anymore.”



“No, I suppose not. Back to Miss Swann then?” She was teasing a bit; he would be calling her Elizabeth of course, or Captain Swann, when he wasn’t using one of his pet names for her.



“Actually, I was hopin’, that is, I still be Captain of this ship. And I’d like to make an honest woman outta ya. If ye’ll have me.”



Elizabeth smirked. “Honest? I’m a pirate.”



“Figuratively speakin’.”



She twisted her head to look up over her shoulder. His eyes were serious. Elizabeth’s smile faded as his words sank in. Slowly, she nodded. “Alright. Yes.”



She felt his chest heave with laughter, and then his breath was soft in her ear. “Dearly beloved, we be gathered here today to join this Captain and this other Captain in the bonds of holy matrimony.”



“Unholy matrimony, I should think. We’ve both been to Hell and back.”



“Hush. Do ye, Elizabeth Swann, take me te be yer husband, in sickness an’ health, good times and bad, er, high tide an’ low?”



Elizabeth giggled. “I do. And do you, Hector Barbossa, take me to be your wife, to love and honor, for better or worse, in times of joy and sorrow, in winds both favorable and unfavorable, for as long as we both shall live?”



“Aye. I do. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce us Captain and wife-Captain.”



“Husband and wife?”



“That too. Reckon’ I’ll kiss ye now.”



“Reckon you’d bett-mmph.” His lips were on hers, and it was their first kiss all over again, the unexpected fire burning through her. She twined her arms around his neck as the kiss grew more intense. Elizabeth was pulled back into reality by the whistles and cheers of the crew.



“You gonna marry ‘er now, Captain? Now she’s free?” Pintel had raised a toast to them, but clearly hadn’t heard their conversation.



“Just did. Gents, ladies, may I present the lovely Elizabeth Barbossa!”



The crew erupted in cheers, and Jack descended from the helm, bottle in hand. “I love weddings! Drinks all around!” He swayed across the deck to the newlyweds. “Elizabeth, darling, you make a beautiful bride. May I kiss the bride?”



Hector wrapped a possessive arm around Elizabeth and curled a lip, but smiled. “No, Jack.”



Jack tilted his chin up to Hector. “How about the groom then?”



“Jack!” Elizabeth laughed and leaned closer to Hector.



Jack pouted for a moment, but waggled his hands at them. “Then kiss each other at least. And get me some more rum!”



Elizabeth smiled and turned to her new husband. “I love you,” she whispered, running her fingers over his cheek.



“Don’t hear that near enough.”



“I’ll say it every day from now on.”



“Good. I love you too, mi cariño.”



This time their kiss was soft and tender, the kiss of lovers who may be newlyweds in name, but who have been all but married for years. Elizabeth slowly drew away, melting into his arms, pressing her cheek to his. She rose onto her toes and whispered in his ear. “I missed my courses last month.”



She felt his brow furrow against hers, then soften as realization dawned. “Did yeh? You think we’re - ?”



“I think so.”



“Yeh sure?”



“No.” Elizabeth laughed into his neck. “But I think so.”



He squeezed her tighter. “Think boy.”



She simply smiled and kissed him again. They were met with more cheers and applause; a few sailors had procured a guitar and fiddle and struck up a tune. Hector, as ever, declined to dance, but he swung Grace up into his arms, and Elizabeth twirled across the deck with Billy. She danced a lopsided jig with Jack, laughed with Ragetti, Marty, and Mullroy, and accepted a congratulatory hug from Song.



They were all her family, but dearest in her heart were her darling son, precious daughter, and the man who had stood at her side for so many years. He came to her side then, and the party swirled around him, their children and dear friends singing and dancing. Elizabeth rested her head on her husband’s shoulder. She would chart many paths in her future, some clear, others muddied, but she would always have her family: her children, and the man beside her, her dear Hector, who would chart them with her, whatever paths they chose.



~fin~