Chosen Path

Chapter 1: A New Beginning


“Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me…” Elizabeth Turner sang her son to sleep in the growing dark of their small room above the Sand Bar tavern where they have lived for the past two years. The boy was her only delight in life since she returned to land. She made the best of the time, working in the tavern to keep abreast of news of the sea, told by the old sea dogs who were happy just to have a pretty lass to listen to the tale, and who didn’t try to press her for anything more than a willing ear and a steady stream of ale.

After two years of listening to tales of the sea, Elizabeth was more than ready to return. She had but to wait for her son to grow old enough. He was a year and a half now, out of nappies, walking, talking, and eating on his own. Young, still, but Elizabeth was impatient, and he would manage. She finished packing the few possessions she and young William had accumulated, and added to her sack the chest that held her husband’s heart. In the morning, she would return to sea.

At dawn, she took her son in hand and slipped out of the tavern, leaving a note and her last month’s rent for the kind barkeep who had taken her in. She had spotted the vessel yesterday – broad and fat, lay down with cargo. She was slow, listed to port, and a sure target. She could still pass as a boy (another reason she’d had to wait until William was old enough to eat on his own), and convinced the crew to take her and her “brother” on board.

On board the Yankee Trader, Elizabeth worked menial duties, tending William, and listening in on conversations.

“Still a leak in the hull, Captain. And the bow hasn’t been properly mended yet. Shoulda’ had ‘er fixed while we was in port.”

“What was that you called me?” The captain turned to the sailor who had approached him.

“Um, Captain, Captain?”

“Yes, that would be correct. And as such, I give the orders. We need to reach the mainland with all haste. It’s said the Black Pearl has been spotted.”

Elizabeth’s ears picked up at the mention of the ship. This was the conversation she’d been wanting to hear.

“The Black Pearl, Captain? That’s a ship o’ legend, that is. Hasn’t been seen ‘round these parts in years.”

“Well, now she has, and I’d not like to meet her. There’s no time to waste by staying in port.”

The captain was a fool if he thought time spent on repairs to his ship was wasted time. Elizabeth soon found herself helping to haul water out of the hull when there was a cry of “Ship ahoy! Black sails on the horizon!”

It was just what she had been waiting for. Elizabeth extricated herself from the commotion as the sailors rushed towards the deck, retrieved her satchel, her sword, and her son. She rushed up on deck, and sure enough, the Pearl was approaching with all speed. The men were preparing to fight, and Elizabeth took up the battle cry, keeping her son close by.

As the ships prepared for battle, Elizabeth hung back, waiting for the opportune moment. It came as several of the Pearl’s crew, Pintel and two she didn’t recognize, swung across the rafters onto the Trader. A few of the Trader’s men grabbed the ropes to take the fight to the Pearl, and Elizabeth sprang into action.

She pulled William onto her back. “Hold on tight, darling.” The boy clung to her neck as she grabbed a rope and flew across the sea. She landed on deck, tucked her son and her satchel out of sight under the stairs, and went to join the fray. She sent two of the merchant ship’s crew flying before hollering orders.

“Load the cannons! Fly forward, she’s weak in the bow!”

She felt a hand roughly pull her down from the rail she had jumped up on. “Belay that! Who d’ye think y’are, givin’ orders on my ship? I be the Captain here.”

“Belay that belay! And raid the galley!” She shouted he orders to the crew, who obeyed unquestioningly. “There’s rum a plenty, a crate of French wine, and” she turned now to the Captain, “a whole bushel of apples.” She grinned at him as his eyebrow quirked at the mention of apples. In response to his question of her identity, she replied simply “King.”

He squinted at her. “Mrs. Turner?”

“Captain Swann, if you please. And the ship, she’s not had her bow mended since the last time she was attacked. And she has a leak.”

“Load the cannons and fly to windward! Attack the bow!” He turned to Elizabeth and gave her a smile that might have been menacing, but she knew him better now.

“Welcome aboard the Black Pearl.”

The crew of the Pearl easily overtook the Yankee Trader and made off with as much of her cargo as they could fit. Elizabeth lifted her son from his hiding place beneath the stairs and returned with him and her satchel to the deck to greet the crew, who welcomed her back with open arms.

“An’ who’s that there?”

“Captain Barbossa, this is my son. William Turner. William, what do you say to the Captain?”

“Parlay.”

Elizabeth laughed. “I meant ‘hello,’ but I suppose that will do.”

Barbossa shook his head. “That’s the third William Turner to sail on this ship. Hope he proves his worth better ‘an the first two.”

“Then we can stay?”

“Yeh prefer to swim? There’s some empty bunks near the hull. Yeh can fashion a cabin out of ‘em, for the boy and yerself.”

Elizabeth’s smile broadened. “Thank you, Captain Barbossa.” She put William down and started downstairs.

“Captain Swann.” She turned. “Care to join me for dinner? For old time’s sake?”

“That would be lovely.” She contemplated the Captain for a moment. “There isn’t anything special you’d like me to wear this time, is there?”

Barbossa raised an eyebrow. “Nothin’ at all.”

She gave him a nod and started away, then the innuendo hit her. She turned back, throwing him a scandalized glare, but he simply laughed and walked away.

Several hours later, Elizabeth had finished settling in to the bunkroom she and William would call a cabin. If she got a bit of curtain, they would have enough privacy, and it was generous of Barbossa to give her this much. She made sure William had supper, then sang him to sleep. The boy seemed happy enough with the changes, for which she was grateful. The bunk was secure; he’d not fall, so she left him sleeping to join her Captain for dinner.

She combed her hair and considered slipping into a skirt, but thought better of it. Her breeches, doublet, and boots would serve as reminders that she was no longer the frightened little girl who had first dined with him, but a Captain in her own right, and a King on top of it. Reminders to whom, she wasn’t sure.

She climbed back on deck, and he escorted her into his cabin. She smiled to see it back the way it had been when she’d first arrived on the ship, devoid of the trappings of Jack.

Jack. She wasn’t sure what she had expected to find on the Pearl, but she had rather thought Jack would be here. She had admittedly been thinking more of him than Barbossa when she decided to chase the Pearl, even having acknowledged the ship as Barbossa’s when she asked him to perform her wedding ceremony.

“Where is Jack these days? He’s not on the ship.”

“How observant of ye. Last I saw Jack, he was attempting to extol his many supposed virtues to two of Tortuga’s finest. So intent was he on so doin’ that he missed us weighing anchor. Haven’t seen ‘im since.”

Elizabeth nodded. “I’ve neither seen nor heard anything of him either. I hope he’s alright.”

“Jack always manages to land on his feet. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Elizabeth took the seat he offered her. The table was laid out nicely, though it was hardly the feast he’d provided the first night. Of course, now that the crew actually had to eat, food was a bit more scant. Still, there was turkey, potatoes, bread, wine, and naturally, a bowl of apples.

“Where have you been in the past two years? The sailors said the Pearl hasn’t been seen around here.”

“Lord of the Caspian Sea, I am. Thought I’d check up on ‘er.”

“The Caspian Sea?”

“Aye.” Barbossa dug in heartily and encouraged Elizabeth to do the same. She hadn’t had a meal this fine in years, and eagerly set to work devouring the food before her.

“And how is she?”

“She’s good. Still a bit landlocked, but she’s good.” Barbossa bit into a turkey leg with the abandon she had shown herself during their first meal together. “And yerself?”

“Raising William. I worked as a serving girl at the Sand Bar.” Barbossa nearly choked on his meat.

“A tavern wench? Ye? Yer no common serving girl, Captain Swann.”

Elizabeth smiled sadly into her wine. “No, but I had to do something. I was alone, penniless, and with a child on the way. It’s better than starving, and I heard the most wonderful stories from the sailors. When I heard one mention the Pearl had been spotted, I decided William was old enough to go to sea, so we went.”

“Ye might have got on a better ship. Yer Yankee Trader was the easiest pickings we’ve had in o'er a year.”

“That’s precisely why I chose her.”

Barbossa turned an admiring eye on her. “Ye always were a clever one. What is it yeh want with us?”

Elizabeth met his probing eyes and felt a small shiver run through her. “Adventure, perhaps. Whatever it is that pirates do when they’re not returning cursed treasure or defeating the East India Company. Raid, pillage, plunder and pilfer?” She chewed on some meat. It was surprisingly good. “And I should like to return to Singapore. I am Lord of the South China Sea, after all.”

Barbossa raised his chin, considering her words. “As to the first, depends on yer idea of adventure. The second, I can promise plenty of. But what makes yeh think I’ll take ye to Singapore? Again?”

Elizabeth took a sip of wine and reached for an apple, then turned to Barbossa with a sweet smile. “Because I’m asking nicely?”

Barbossa flashed her an amused grin. “Yer flutterin’ eyelashes won’t work on me, Missy.”

“Then I will remind you that I am your King, and order you to take me there.”

The smile disappeared. “I’ve no intentions of makin’ that journey anytime soon, Captain Swann.”

“Oh, it needn’t be soon. I’ve got nearly eight years.”

Barbossa pushed his plate away, then folded his arms on the table, studying her. “Tell yeh what. When ye can tell me how to get there, I’ll take ye to Singapore.”

Elizabeth frowned. He knew how to get there. He had shown her his maps on the last journey. “I don’t understand.”

“Yeh will.” He leaned back. “Yeh gonna eat that apple?”

She contemplated the apple for a moment, then took an aggressive bite. He laughed softly and reached for an apple of his own.

After dinner, they returned to the deck, he to the helm, and she to the rigging, where the crew happily welcomed back her skilled hands. She had been glad to be back on a ship on the Yankee Trader, but it hadn’t felt right. It hadn’t felt like home. She wondered when the Pearl had begun to feel that way for her.

When night fell, Elizabeth walked the length of the deck and back again, running her hands along the rail, stopping at the mast where she had once kissed Jack Sparrow and sentenced him to death. He was back now, of course, and Barbossa himself had comforted her long ago, insisting that Jack’s death had nothing to do with her, and everything to do with Davy Jones and a bargain Jack couldn’t keep. Knowing that Jack was alive and well, she tried to remember the part before he died. Kissing him had been surprisingly enjoyable. If only the circumstances had been different…

These were hardly appropriate thoughts for a married woman though. It had been surprisingly easy in the tavern. The other girls flirted and got fondled, but the men left Elizabeth alone. Perhaps it was the warning glare of the barkeep, or the mélange of weaponry she kept on her person, or the confidence with which she moved. Perhaps it was that the sailors knew who she was, who her husband was. It didn’t matter why, but none touched her. It was hardly what she had expected out of married life, but Will was worth waiting for.

She wandered to the rail and gazed out at the darkness. The moon hung low in the sky, and she smiled. This crew no longer feared the moonlight. She wondered if Will was out there, staring up at the same moon, or if he was in some otherworldly realm, escorting the dead to their final resting place.

No, this wasn’t what married life should have been, but it was all she had. Things had certainly improved lately; the Pearl was far more than she’d had in over two years. Barbossa hadn’t changed much since she’d left him, though he still had a bit of sorrow about him. She wondered at that. Barbossa, the Pirate Lord and Captain, a man who had defied death. He was a legend. What could he possibly want for that would cause that sadness she sometimes caught in his eyes, when he didn’t realize she was looking?

It was strange that she should be sailing with him of her free will now, when she had only ever done so under duress. But everything was different now. This evening’s dinner had been far pleasanter than their first; she’d actually quite enjoyed his company.

It had been some time since she’d had someone of his intelligence with whom to converse. Someone who understood her, and didn’t require an explanation if she used a particularly advanced bit of her vocabulary. Someone who used such words himself. Yes, she decided, she was glad to be back on a ship with Hector Barbossa.

The heavy thud of approaching boots drew her attention. She was quite certain the twinge in her stomach was due to an especially large wave, and had nothing whatsoever to do with the man walking toward her. She turned back to the sea, and her own slightly muddled thoughts.

“He's out there somewhere.” Barbossa took up position beside her, following her gaze.

Elizabeth shook her head. “It's funny,” she told him, “when Will asked me to marry him, to make my choice, I called out to you.”

“I remember.”

“He told me later, for a moment, he thought I intended my path to be with you.” Elizabeth bit her lip. “He was wrong, of course; it wasn't what I meant, then, and yet...”

Her breath caught as the captain's hand gently covered hers on the rail.

“And yet here ye are. Chartin' yer path, same as me.” Elizabeth dared a sidelong glance at him, catching him doing the same. Holding his eyes, she spread her fingers apart, ever so slightly, beneath his hand. His own fingers slid easily into the spaces she left. Her eyelids fluttered shut at his audible exhale. Interlocked hands for their intermingled paths.

“Perhaps he wasn't wrong at all...”