a friend
"He used to work for the East India Company," Joanna later told Will, all smiles. "Until they asked him to transport slaves, Will. He freed them."
"Is that so?" Will said, bent over a scrap of paper. He was outlining the details of his latest blacksmithing project.
"Yes, can you believe that? Jack is vehemently against slavery, William. I've never seen anyone so passionate about it." Joanna frowned, a dark cloud drifting over her rendition of Jack's story. "I've never thought about it, really. It's never...affected me."
The realization of injustice crept up on Joanna with the subtlety of a gunshot. She swallowed and quickly continued her tale, not wishing her own guilt to overshadow Jack's heroics.
"So Jack took them to an island, to free them," Joanna carried on with determination. "Not just any island -- an island with, well, magic. The princess of the island was his friend, you see --"
Will laughed and looked up. Despite his amusement being at her expense, Joanna was glad to see him smile. He had not freely done so since their return. "Don't tell me you believe him, Jo."
"A week ago, I wouldn't have," said Joanna wryly.
Will conceded her point with a nod.
Joanna continued, affronted, "And I can tell the difference between a lie and a truth, William."
"He's a pirate, Joanna," Will reminded her, his smirk fading.
Joanna frowned. "Don't tell me you're still on about that."
Will flushed and returned to his drawing. "Habit," he mumbled.
Joanna continued breezily. "Anyways, Jack is remarkably easy to see through."
Will shot her a glance. "Now that I will dispute."
"It's true!" Joanna insisted. "You knew immediately he was conniving with Gibbs, remember -- all that business about 'leverage'. Not to mention the absurdity of riding sea turtles. When Jack lies, he -- he embellishes himself." Joanna turned thoughtful. "The way he gestures, speaks in circles, it's all smoke and mirrors. When he's honest, he...he drops the act." She saw Jack in her mind's eye, gently clasping silver around her wrist and reminding her, Your favorite color is green, innit?
William regarded her with curious eyes. "You speak like he's a friend of yours."
Joanna opened her mouth, then closed it. After a beat, she quietly said, "Yes."
Will's mouth twitched downward. Joanna fluffed her metaphorical feathers, ready to give him a piece of her mind, but Will said, "Sorry, it's -- well, it's habit." Looking chastised, Will blushed. "I've only wanted to keep you safe, you know."
Joanna looked at him with surprise. Will had always been like a little brother; she had bandaged scrapes on his knees, taught him to read, showed him how to sew a button. She had been looking after him for so long it hadn't occurred to her that Will might want to return the favor.
"Will, I..." Joanna swallowed and reached across the table, resting her hand over his. He ceased sketching and met her eyes. "I appreciate everything you've ever done for me, you know. You should know I consider you family."
He squeezed her hand. "You should know I feel the same."
They grinned at each other, eight years and a near-death experience between them.
Emboldened, Joanna suddenly slapped the table with her palms. Will jolted at the noise. "Let's do something fun. Practice swords, or go to the beach. Build a castle, like we did when we were kids."
Will's smile was soft and contrite. "I need to work, Joanna. The...the funeral was expensive."
Joanna's grin faded as those words sunk in. "I should, too. I'm sure someone wants a dress mended," she murmured, dejected. She wanted to hang from the shrouds of a ship and pretend to be a sail, not sew another woman's skirt.
Will returned to drawing; Joanna rested her chin on her fist and dreaded asking for business. She got enough looks just walking to the market -- she had sprung a man from jail, stolen a ship, spent an intimate evening with Jack Sparrow on Rumrunner's Isle, and returned as though nothing had happened. Joanna Brown was the subject of much tea-time gossip.
It's not fair, Joanna groused. William was able to return to society unscathed because he was a man. He had gallantly rescued the governor's daughter, braving the law and piracy. Elizabeth was the hapless victim of a terrible kidnapping and, as such, allowed to return to society on the Commodore's arm.
Society is a prison, Joanna thought dramatically and with a healthy dose of self-pity. She permitted herself another moment of bitterness before reminding herself that Jack Sparrow was in an actual prison, condemned to death, so she would do well to count herself lucky.
Thoughts of Jack Sparrow conjured images of black pearls and gold earrings. Joanna remembered her treasures, hidden beneath her bed, and guilt settled like a weight into her chest.
~
Jack Sparrow had three days to live (two, without counting the hanging day).
Jack was sitting with his back to the stairs, resting against the bars. His legs stretched in front of him (he wore his boots, today) and he didn't seem to notice Joanna until she spoke.
"Hello, Jack," she said gently, as not to startle him.
He turned to her with a bright grin, revealing what had distracted him: Gulliver's Travels, open in his lap. "'Ello, darling."
"How is it?" Joanna asked, indicating the novel.
"Riveting," Jack replied. He closed the book, giving her his full attention. "I particularly enjoyed the story about the little people."
"Fifteen centimeters tall," Joanna agreed. "Remarkable. Um, listen, Jack. I have to tell you something."
Jack's smile melted into an apprehensive frown. "'s not a good something, I can tell."
"Well." Joanna knelt, eyes on her coffee-colored skirts. "I, um. I sold the gold earrings." She said quietly.
"Oh." Jack looked surprised.
"The funeral was expensive," Joanna said miserably. "Will's throwing himself into work, to pay it off, and he's heartbroken over Elizabeth, although he won't say so. And I knew I could help, so I did. I'm sorry, Jack," Joanna added, twisting fabric in her hands. "I didn't make the decision lightly."
"Joanna," Jack said, and Joanna was shocked to hear laughter in his voice. "They're jus' earrings, luv. I'm glad you're free of debt."
"Really?" Joanna said with undisguised relief. "Oh, I'm being so ridiculous. I don't know why I thought you'd be mad."
"You're raving," Jack agreed cheerily. "I'll forgive you if you bring me rum. Please."
Joanna wasn't eager to encourage a bad habit, but she retained a sliver of guilt. Grudgingly, she said, "Fine, I'll bring you rum."
"Yes. You're a gift, Anna," Jack expressed with a broad smile and a wink.
With an indulgent eye roll, Joanna said, "I know, I know."
Jack changed the subject, asking curiously, "Was the jeweler curious about where you got 'em, darling?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact." Joanna flushed at the memory. "I'm afraid I was rather evasive -- I was so nervous to be doing it."
"You can stab a man but can't pawn a pair of shinies," Jack discerned with a grin.
"Unlike Barbossa, I had an attachment to the earrings," Joanna retorted. Jack laughed -- she did, too, observing fondly the glint of gold in his smile. "Was he always so...horrible?" She asked curiously. At one point, the devious Barbossa had been Jack's first mate -- that position suggested a high amount of trust.
"Ah -- no," Jack replied, looking pensive. A shadow crossed his face. "We were...good friends."
"Then why?" Joanna asked.
"Why the betrayal?" Jack's expression turned sour. "How much d'you know about pirate politics, luv? Not much? Alright. Captains are elected, unlike those of our darling friends the Navy. So pirate captains can also be removed."
"That's innovative," admired Joanna.
"Not really. Jus' democracy. Greeks invented it. Anyway," Jack continued. "T'was a mutiny, yes, but it's the way. Crew was dissatisfied, decided me time was up. Barbossa jus' happened to also persuade them to maroon me and leave me to die." Jack's hands, which danced as he spoke, dropped to his lap. "Not sure why he thought that necessary."
"Because he's a terrible person," Joanna replied, thinking that was obvious. Jack's mouth twitched briefly into a smile. She asked, "Does a mutinous crew usually allow their former captain to stay aboard?"
"Aye, 'till they can drop them off somewhere," Jack answered sullenly. "There's usually a vote, actually, not a violent mutiny."
Joanna was silent, carefully contemplating Jack and the forlorn line of his mouth. "What did you think would happen, when you got the Pearl back? Wouldn't you have to be elected?"
"Circumstances would indicate not," Jack replied. His fingers drummed over the iron bars separating him from Joanna. "I picked up the crew -- rather, Gibbsy did -- and they signed on to serve my captaincy. 'Course, they wouldn't be required to join me on the Pearl," Jack amended. "There's no punishment for hopping ship, unlike the Navy."
"It sounds like," Joanna mused, "pirate life is much kinder than the military one."
Jack nodded. "Many a man's deserted the crown for the black. Like Gibbs, for instance -- used to work for our friend the Commodore."
After a pause, Joanna posited softly, "How much of a pirate am I, do you reckon?"
Slowly, as though not to spook her, Jack reached through the bars. His hand found one of hers; Joanna watched with a smile as their fingers entwined.
"I reckon," Jack said cannily, "the only thing keeping you from the account is yourself, luv."
~
The next day, Will tentatively asked Joanna if she would like to "do something fun", as she had requested two days prior.
"God, yes," Joanna said with significant relief. She had started the morning burdened with dread -- Jack would die in two days. Two days. Skipping rocks and digging holes in warm sand would be a welcome distraction.
Joanna and Will walked to the beach as the sun rose. Joanna raptly watched their feet, trying in vain to remain in step with Will's long legs. Will purposefully took uneven steps until Joanna kicked his shin.
As soon as the water was in sight, Joanna kicked off her heels (not as nice a pair as the ones she had lost to the harbor a week ago). She threw them into the air recklessly and sunk her toes into warm, chafing sand. The feeling overwhelmed her with memories she hadn't known would become so important: dancing like an animal around a fire, a sea shanty on her tongue.
Will seemed to recognize Joanna's lachrymose; he was silent as he toed off his shoes and disposed himself of his stockings. When they were both barefoot, he asked, "Are you alright, Jo?"
Joanna had unconsciously closed her eyes. They fluttered open, brown and dry. She looked at Will and offered him a timorous smile. "I'll be okay." Determined, she added, "I don't want to talk about anything depressing. I refuse."
"Fine," Will said on the edge of a laugh. "What should we talk about, then?"
"First, hand me that rock," Joanna commanded, pointing to a round, flat stone by Will's foot. He acquiesced. Joanna continued, "Now, tell me what's going on with Elizabeth."
Will's face shuttered. "There's nothing going on."
"Yes, that's the problem," Joanna declared. Will looked away from her, hiding his red face. "What happened at Isla de Muerta?"
Will's feet shuffled nervously in the sand. "It felt...when we fought together..." He trailed off, eyes catching on the rock, still clutched in Joanna's hand. "What did you want the rock for?"
"Hm? Oh." Joanna turned to the rippling waves, idly tossing the stone between two hands. Suddenly, she wound up and whipped the rock at the sea; it skipped more than five times. She turned to Will, smug and proud.
"Nice," he acknowledged. "Want another?"
"Please," she said, so Will handed her another reasonably flat rock. "Now, finish your thought about Elizabeth," Joanna requested as she skipped the stone.
Will stared at her at length, looking constipated at the thought of expressing his feelings. "It felt right," he said finally. "When we were together."
"Then why aren't you, right now, together? Hand me that one. Not that one -- yes, there, thank you."
"She's engaged," Will answered, watching the trajectory of Joanna's next throw. It wasn't her best; it skittered thrice before dropping.
"Despite our differences with him, James Norrington is a good man," Joanna said. "If Elizabeth didn't want to marry him, I don't believe he'd force her."
Will said grudgingly, "Nor do I."
Joanna turned to him, eyebrows raised in a challenge. "Then please explain the problem."
Will cleared his throat. He dithered over his answer. "I may have implied, on accident, that she should marry Norrington."
Joanna's face dropped. "William," she cavilled. "Don't tell me we almost died so that you could tell Elizabeth to marry another man."
"I didn't understand the circumstances!" Will shot back, folding his arms petulantly, a paragon of the ten-year-old William Turner of Joanna's memories. "Jack said -- well, you weren't there."
"Thanks to Norrington," Joanna grumbled. She and Will shared a moment of mutual scorn for James Norrington. Joanna broke the silence, insisting, "Will, you need to talk to her."
"How should I do that?" Will asked testily. "I'm not welcome at the manor. The Governor made that quite clear."
Joanna was sure the Governor had Elizabeth's best interests in mind, but he was awfully misguided. "Then don't do it at the manor," Joanna retorted, snappish and quick.
Then, like lightning, Joanna had a brilliant idea.
"William," she almost whispered. Will recognized her cloak-and-dagger tone; his gaze darted to meet hers. "You should confess to her at the hanging."
Will's vigilant eyes turned abhorrent. "That is possibly the worst place."
"Will, think of the uproar it would cause!" Joanna persisted, a clever grin spreading across her face. "You declare your love in front of her father, her fiance, and the world -- anyone nearby will be shocked. They'll be distracted."
"Distracted...?" Will prompted, struggling to follow her racing train of thought. "Oh. Joanna, we can't do that."
"Why not?" Joanna demanded, suddenly furious. "You know it's wrong. His death. It's wrong."
Will looked away from her intense eyes to the horizon. "No," he said resolutely, dropping to sit in the sand.
He hasn't stormed away yet, Joanna reminded herself. She pressed on, joining him on the ground. "Why not? It's two birds with one stone, Will. You tell Elizabeth what she obviously doesn't know, I rescue Jack in the meantime."
"You aren't doing it by yourself," Will injected firmly.
"So you'll do it!" Joanna exclaimed hopefully.
Will's mouth opened and closed. Inevitably, he sighed. "Yes, I'll do it."
Joanna felt like the sunrise -- warm and effulgent. "Thank you," she said ardently, tension bleeding from her shoulders.
"You're welcome," Will said wearily. He dug his fingers into golden sand, looking downcast. "You're right, about the hanging."
Joanna nodded. Her throat was tight. "You should visit him, before the day of," she recommended softly. "He's very bored, as I'm sure you can imagine."
Will rubbed his face with his hands, sighing. "I've honestly meant to, but I've been. Overwhelmed."
There was a difference between Joanna and Will: Joanna was overwhelmed, so she visited Jack; Will was overwhelmed, so he avoided Jack.
"How is he?" Will asked, pulling Joanna from her thoughts.
"Unnervingly cheerful," Joanna replied with a svelte smile. "But he misses his ship. All that, and now he's in a cell."
At her words, Will's face flickered with what Joanna recognized as an idea. She urged him, "What? What is it?"
Will looked at her thoughtfully. "How difficult would it be to get a message to the Black Pearl?"
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