"Nice wedding."

Will did not reply, staring sullenly ahead.

"I particularly like the favors," Joanna added, raising her hands. The handcuffs dragged against her skin and jangled. "These'll go with most of my wardrobe. Very thoughtful of you, William."

Silence.

As the procession of one pirate, one distressed groom, and dozens of redcoats trudged from one parapet to the next, they were drenched with rain.

"Nice weather, too," Joanna said.

Will sighed deeply. He said finally, "You've been spending too much time with Jack."

Joanna snickered. "That's true."

A foot connected with the back of Joanna's shin. "Can it," snapped a short-tempered officer.

Joanna scowled as her bravado melted away, leaving only her fear. She muttered, "I can't believe I'd be safer on the Black Pearl than at a civilized wedding."

...

A week ago, Joanna had loitered in Port Royal's harbor and felt strange in skirts. After over a year of pirating around, she had grown used to pants -- to a lack of air between her legs. This breeze was like a long-forgotten friend.

Joanna rustled her skirts and felt awkward, waiting alone in the marina. Logically, she knew no one paid her any mind, but she nonetheless felt watched by each distracted passerby.

In the year since Joanna's disappearance, the harbor had recovered and more from the cursed Pearl's blitz. Joanna noted two new piers and a few unfamiliar ships. She was admiring one of those ships, having grown more knowledgeable about that sort of thing, when she heard a familiar voice.

"Joanna!"

With astounding speed, Joanna's nerves melted away. "Will!" She cried, turning and scanning the crowd. Like no time had passed, she spotted him with ease, and then they were crashing into each other.

"Will!" Joanna repeated into his shoulder, feeling as though a piece of her had snapped back into place. He smelled as she remembered: leather and smoke and sweet wood. "Dammit, I've missed you," she grinned as she pulled away, running her eyes over his dear face.

"Thanks!" A tired-looking Will beamed, adjusting his admittedly-nice waistcoat. He looked her over with delighted surprise, cataloging the differences between his memory of Joanna and the woman that stood before him. He commented on the most obvious one: "Your hair!"

"Isn't it fantastic?" Joanna ran a hand through the caramel tresses. Her new 'do fell around her ears in short, playful curls -- a sharp contrast to her uneven, mid-length cut of old. "It's a statement, I think."

"It's that," Will agreed amusedly. "Highly practical, I imagine. I'm sure the earrings also serve an empirical purpose."

If Joanna gave her head a firm shake, heavy, golden hoops would smack her cheeks. They were not as nice a pair as what Jack had bequeathed to her at Isla de Muerta (only for Joanna to sell them), but Joanna liked them well enough. "Of course," she replied smartly. She raised a teasing eyebrow. "You, however, look older. Tired. Married life getting to you?"

"Not yet," Will said with a laugh. "I am tired, though. Weddings are stressful."

"You poor man," Joanna smiled. "How's Elizabeth?"

"She's incredible," Will said, his thoughts visibly sliding into dreamland. "She's great."

"Oh boy," said Joanna. "Before you start reciting poetry, take me home. I barely remember how to get there."

The benefit of slipping away in the dead of night to become a pirate rather than mounting a soapbox to announce the fact meant Joanna could walk freely through her old town, garnering nothing but odd stares. Trotting cheerfully at her side, Will shared in these strange looks but seemed not to care.

"How's Jack?" Will asked belatedly, having finished mooning over his soon-to-be wife.

"Sorry he couldn't make it," Joanna answered truthfully. Whatever Jack was up to, he had assured Joanna it was "life and death, most likely death, hopefully life" while looking rather morose. He'd requested she pass on his apologies. "He has a gift for you two, but he'd rather deliver it in person."

"Really?" Will looked pleasantly surprised. "Do you know what it is?"

"No," Joanna lied airly. "So don't ask about it."

"I'll ask about something else, then," Will determined. His smile turned mischievous. "You and Jack?"

Without her permission, Joanna's face decided to flush pink. "You'll have to be more specific, William."

"Piracy hasn't ruined your pride," Will commented amusedly. "Is he courting you, Joanna."

Joanna couldn't help but smile, happy to talk to her favorite person about her other favorite person. "I wouldn't call it courting. But something like that, yes."

"I shudder to imagine what Jack thinks courting is," Will murmured in contemplation.

"It's something like awarding me an extra rum ration, pretending he's surprised to hear I don't drink, and then taking it for himself," Joanna said (that had indeed happened more than once). "In all seriousness -- and this may surprise you -- he's capable of being rather charming."

"I believe it," Will granted.

Joanna continued fondly. "He's my friend, more than he is anything else."

"The crew treats you well?"

Joanna had anticipated the question; in fact, she had stewed over it for much of the journey from Tortuga to Port Royal. Regardless of how long she deliberated, Joanna still found herself struggling for an answer. "It's...what I expected. Some days are trickier than others."

Joanna faced Will's scrutinizing eyes. Aware that Will knew her possibly better than anyone else, she hurried to confirm, "I'm where I want to be." It wasn't a lie -- the thought of the Pearl's magnificent splendor lifted Joanna into smiling. "I have an allegiance to something more than myself and you, for the first time in...a long time. I feel like I have a purpose. Or that I'm close to having one, at least." Joanna shook herself from reminiscing in order to playfully jostle Will's arm. "That being said, spending a calm week here will be nice. I haven't been to something as civilized as a wedding in months."

Will's probing stare turned wry and amused. "You haven't done anything but commit crimes for months."

"Not true!" Joanna protested. "In addition to frequent smuggling and thievery, I have also bought and sold things completely legally. And this week, I'll add 'witnessing a wedding' to that list of civilized, holy activities that I've participated in."

Will said: "You've been spending too much time with Jack."

In the present, Joanna heard I have a warrant for one William Turner and one Joanna Brown and tasted bitter irony.

...

Joanna, Will, and Elizabeth were treated to three separate cells. Cruelly, Joanna was placed between the unlucky bride and groom.

Joanna was rarely intimidated by Will, who she often regarded as a cute puppy (if puppies were able to swordfight). But his silent, stolid anger was terrifying. She had thought of several clever things to say in regards to their situation -- Joanna's favorite coping mechanism was to nervously make jokes -- but she worried that if she said anything less-than-serious, Will would summon a cutlass and do her in.

(Instead of risking Will's ire, Joanna appreciated her witticisms privately. It seemed to her all things began and ended with Captain Jack Sparrow: the Black Pearl's curse, her own career in piracy, and Will and Elizabeth's engagement.)

Elizabeth championed a different type of rage, one that was loud and shameless. "This is ridiculous," she declared more than once, voice tight with fury and tears. Her eye makeup had melted into black rings, but she did not hide her face; she proudly looked down her nose at any officer that strolled past her cell.

Joanna hadn't spoken except for "Captain! It's Captain Jack Sparrow" since Governor Swann introduced Cutler Beckett. She twisted her skirt in her hands. Unafraid of filth after two years of grimy sailing, she had forgone saving the minty green of her skirt and sat cross-legged on the dusty floor of the cell.

(Her collection of handmade dresses had been kept safe by Will, as promised, in her absence.)

"Um," she said.

Will and Elizabeth paused in staring hopelessly at each other long enough to offer Joanna their attention. "What is it, Joanna?" Will prompted softly.

"Cutler Beckett," Joanna began, then hesitated. As much as Jack enjoyed chatting about himself to any available ear, what he told Joanna concerning his past had been done so in private. "He's the man that branded Jack. His wrist," Joanna held up her own to illustrate, tapping her pulse point.

Will and Elizabeth shared a calculating glance as they digested the new information.

"I had thought he seemed rather eager," Elizabeth murmured.

"He bears a grudge, I assume," Will tacked on.

Joanna nodded and winced, thinking of the evil Cutler Beckett described by Jack. "I think that may be putting it lightly."

Miserable silence followed Joanna's words.

"We're really going to die," Elizabeth whispered.

Will's hands found the bars of his cell; he grasped them desperately. "Elizabeth..."

Joanna locked eyes with Elizabeth. She swallowed. "We probably will," she told her friend quietly.

Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears once more. She looked away furiously, gritting her teeth. "After everything," she snarled.

Joanna opened her mouth to speak; nothing came out. She thought of Jack, and the crew, and everything she had yet to accomplish. She thought of the Black Pearl. She thought of Will and Elizabeth, who had come so far.

In conclusion, Joanna burst into tears.

"It's unfair," she said thickly, hiding her flushed face in her hands.

Elizabeth extended a hand toward Joanna, waving her over. She beckoned tearfully, "Come here, Jo."

"This is so shitty," Joanna cried, scooting to the wall she shared with Elizabeth; they clasped hands and wept together. "All that bullshit, with the skeleton people --"

"-- I fell off a cliff and I was kidnapped --"

"-- all the time I spent proving myself to the crew --"

"-- all of the dress fittings -- no tailor here is as skilled as you, Joanna!"

"Really?" Joanna's lips twitched in a brief smile before she was overwhelmed by tears of a different kind. "Elizabeth, I was so looking forward to having you as a sister-in-law."

"I thought the same!" Elizabeth exclaimed, and then they were too choked up to say anything else.

Joanna and Elizabeth cried together, united by self-pity. Joanna grumpily discovered Elizabeth was beautiful even while weeping. 

Eventually, Joanna and Elizabeth ran out of tears. Joanna dropped one of Elizabeth's hands in order to turn apologetically to Will. "We sort of left you out, didn't we."

Will's countenance lifted into a smile. "That's alright."

"I'll hold your hand soon," Elizabeth promised him, squeezing Joanna's before releasing her.

The clink of chains interrupted their heartwarming tête-à-tête. Joanna turned to see two dead-faced, handcuff-bearing soldiers. Ice replaced the warmth in her chest. To Elizabeth, she murmured, "Maybe not."

...

"Those won't be necessary," Lord Cutler Beckett said with an iniquitous smile, gesturing to Joanna and Will's fashionable wedding favors.

Obediently, Beckett's henchmen removed the handcuffs. Joanna didn't spare the officers a glance, choosing to assess the enemy. Beckett was about her height -- in other words, quite short -- but Joanna saw nothing else of herself in him. His eyes carried a sharp, wicked gleam, and Joanna knew that as she studied him, he did the same of her.

As Joanna analyzed the office -- for her and Will, a fancier cage -- she diagnosed Beckett as a man concerned with presentation. The globes spotting the room and the vast map of the world hugging the far wall painted the picture of a well-traveled, worldly man. Trinkets and knick-knacks of various origins speckled every surface. Unsettlingly, Joanna was reminded of Jack's eclectic cabin.

"Do you intend to release Elizabeth as well?" Will asked steadily, jolting Joanna from her thoughts.

Beckett eyed him shrewdly from across the room. "That is entirely up to you."

"Really?" Will's expression flickered, revealing his pique. Joanna gulped; the frightening, silent anger was back. "Then I'll just pop out and tell the guards to set her free."

Beckett's mouth thinned. "I'll clarify. That is entirely dependent on you. The East India Trading Company is in need of your services." He turned briefly to his desk and emerged with drinks. Joanna wrinkled her nose at the liquor; Will politely declined. Raising an eyebrow, Beckett returned their glasses to the table. "We wish for you to act as our agent in a business transaction with our mutual friend -- Captain Sparrow."

Will raised his chin. "More acquaintance than friend."

Beckett's lips quirked into a smile. "Really? That's not what I've heard -- particularly in regards to you, Miss Brown."

Joanna fought to hold his gaze, struggling against her own desire to stare at her feet. You're a goddamn pirate -- act like one! she told herself. "I don't know what you mean," she settled on saying, but even to her own ears she sounded unconvincing.

She was shaken. Joanna had strived to keep her criminal status quiet, knowing doing so was the only way she could see Will again. It was a difficult task made even more so by her choice of berth -- the Black Pearl was the most high-profile pirate ship in the Caribbean. I was naïve and stupid to come here, Joanna thought hatefully, twisting her hands together.

Joanna felt claustrophobic, trapped by both Will's worried gaze and Beckett's inexorable stare. She looked like an outlaw, she knew -- the cropped hair and kitsch earrings did not mark her as a woman of refined culture.

Will benevolently drew the attention from Joanna, asking carefully, "How do you know Jack?"

As Beckett considered the question, he meandered across the cosmopolitan office. "We've had dealings in the past." He paused before the fire. Thoughtfully, he removed a poker. "And we've each left our mark upon the other."

Joanna realized with a chill the red-hot poker ended not in a point, but in a capital P. She was struck by terror -- is that brand meant for me? -- but Beckett returned it to its home among the flames. She took a deep breath as her heart calmed.

Beside her, Will's shifted his feet. Calmly, he asked, "And what mark did he leave on you?"

Joanna looked to Will, her fear swiftly replaced by surprised admiration. You've grown up, she thought with faint pride, recalling how the William of her memories would spill over with words when put under pressure.

Beckett chose not to answer Will's canny question. "By your efforts, Jack Sparrow was freed," he said instead. "I would like you to go to him and recover a certain property in his possession."

"Recover?" Will prompted. "At the point of a sword?"

"Bargain." Beckett corrected impatiently. In one motion, he turned to his desk and opened an ornate, wooden box; from it, he removed a sheaf of paper. "Letters of Marque. You will offer what amounts to a full pardon -- Jack will be free, a privateer in the employ of England."

"Jack won't accept," Joanna said quietly and without pause. Her eyes narrowed as Beckett sought her gaze. "He doesn't consider employment to be freedom."

Beckett scoffed but returned the leather-bound letters to their wooden nest. "Freedom." With the air of one expecting to be followed, he strolled to the balcony. Joanna and Will exchanged a tired glance before trailing after him.

To the busy harbor of Port Royal, Beckett performed a soliloquy. "Jack Sparrow is a dying breed. The world is shrinking -- the blank edges of the map filled in. Jack must find his place in the New World or perish." He turned to face Will, offering a pretentious smile. "Not unlike you, Mr. Turner, Miss Brown. You and your friend, Miss Swann, face the hangman's noose."

"Do we?" Joanna deadpanned.

Will cast her a dry glance. To Beckett, he presupposed, "So you get Jack and the Black Pearl."

"The Black Pearl?"

"The property he possesses," Will clarified.

"A ship? Hardly," Beckett said, as if the Black Pearl wasn't the most magnificent brig to touch the sea. Joanna fidgeted with rage. "The item in question is considerably smaller and far more valuable. Something Sparrow keeps on his person at all times."

Joanna's stomach dropped with realization. "The compass," she whispered. Will looked at her in surprise.

"Ah, you know it," Beckett murmured. He smiled slowly. "Bring back the compass or there's no deal." He spun abruptly and strode away.

Joanna contemplated Beckett's proposal. "We bring you the compass, and the three of us are free," she asserted.

"That is the agreement," Beckett confirmed, stopping to look over his shoulder.

"Perhaps we should shake on it," Will suggested cooly from over Joanna's shoulder.

Beckett smirked. "Perhaps we should."

He extended a hand but did not move from the center of the room. Annoyed, Joanna marched forward and gripped his hand, squeezing harder than would be polite. Beckett's smile gained an edge.

Will followed close behind her. As he clutched Beckett's hand, he said, "We'll bring you the compass."

Beckett inclined his head, eyes gleaming. "I look forward to it."