Idina's POV
November 1715

I don't think I have ever experienced true euphoria until my night with Jack. It may not have been regal, but it was remarkable. I could still feel his rough touch linger on my skin, and the taste of his salty sea lips on mine. Over a year later and Jack still excites me. The world is absolutely beautiful, and I didn't realize just how much of it I was missing. The sun, the sand, and the breeze were dazzling. There was no one telling us what to do, or where to go. We were so free. I can never go back to who I used to be.

Jack had invited me into his cabin this warm morning to discuss our next heading. Jack sat in his chair, and I stood beside him. We leaned over his desk together as he taught me how to read the map, showing me where we were and where we had been.

"We could sail over to Calabar, here." He pointed to a port city in Africa. It was fairly close to where we had originally planned to sail to liberate the men, women, and children that were prisoners on our ship just a few months ago.

"It's quite far. We are still in the Caribbean, we would get there in a months time."

"Or, we travel up north to the New World." He pointed to the bottom right-hand side of the land. He reached across me, his arm grazed mine. "Last year, Spanish fleets were caught up in a hurricane, and all eleven ships sank, leaving their treasure to be scavenged." Jack tilted his head up at me and began to smile.

I smiled back and said, "let's get their treasure."

"Aye." Jack slowly raised his hand and fiddled with the ends of my dark curly hair between his fingers.

"We could pick up some more men while we are there to pick up the slack from the men we lost on the island," I suggested.

"Not the best spot to find able-bodied seamen, I fear." His brown eyes met with mine, softening. He continued to play with my hair, bringing his face closer to mine as he stood up from his chair. The passion we felt for each other hasn't faltered.

"Where would you suggest?"

He smiled softly and began to kiss me, slow and passionately. My hand cupped his cheek, pressing my thumb into his high cheekbone. He grabbed a hold of my scabbard and pulled me close to him. His hands gripped around my waist and he lifted me up onto his desk, disregarding everything that laid dormant on it. Between his kisses, he said breathlessly, "anywhere else. I'll take you there. From Réunion to the New World. Wherever we want to go, we will go."

There was a harsh knock on the door, and Jack's lips left mine. He groaned, "someone better be dying." Jack's hand slipped from my hair and I slipped off the desk, turning to face the door to his cabin. Jack leaned forward against his desk, waiting for whoever was on the other side to make themselves known.

"Maybe he left," I uttered with hope. Another knock banged against the door.

"Enter!" Jack announced.

One of our pirates opened the door and stepped into the cabin. "Captain."

"What now?" Jack asked impassively while raising his thick eyebrows.

"There's a ship heading straight towards us," the crew member said.

Jack stood up straight and swaggered out of the cabin while snatching his spyglass on his way out. I followed him out to the deck where he approached the taffrail where a sloop was heading our way.

Jack's eyes remained intent on the incoming ship when he brought his spyglass down and held it in my direction. His eyebrows were furrowed over his eyes as he said, "I've never seen her before in my life."

I took the spyglass and brought it up to my eye. It took a second to focus on the men on deck, but there seemed to be a lack of order on that vessel. I glanced around until I saw The Revenge engraved into the wood of the ship. Her flag had a white skull above a king horizontal bone with a dagger on the left and a heart on the right all against a black field. Pirates.

"Clear the deck!" Jack hollered, resulting in everyone preparing for the upcoming battle. "Hoist the flag!"

"You don't recognize them?" I asked, giving Jack the spyglass again.

"No." He brought it back up to his eye and inspected their ship. "I don't even recognize the ship. Sixty-ton sloop. She's a beauty."

The ship was getting so close, I could see the faces of the men on board. They had their swords in their hands and a hungry expression on their dried up faces. But the moment our flag rose to the top of the mast, all their faces fell. It was too late for them to retreat.

Jack jumped up on the taffrail and he gripped the rigging. He shouted, "Oi! You there! Yes, all of you!"

The men on the Revenge all stopped growling and waving their weapons in the air to look at Jack. Jack kept swinging on the rope but he said, "surrender now and I shall let you live. There isn't a reason we should be fighting, mates."

The men looked toward who I assume was their captain. He didn't really look like a pirate captain. He wore an elegant embroidered blue coat and matching silk breeches. He looked more like a wealthy aristocrat than a pirate captain. He stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the rotten crew he was surrounded by. His hair was blonde and surprisingly clean and well groomed. I saw him nod to his crew, and they all ignored Jack's warning and began throwing grappling hooks toward our ship. They hooked to the taffrail and the pirates used them to pull their ship closer to ours, and to transport themselves onto our ship.

Jack quickly turned to me and asked, "are you ready?"

I seamlessly slipped my cutlass out of the scabbard and twirled the handle in my hand, just to show off. I looked Jack dead in his worrisome brown eyes and promised, "I'm ready."

The past year of being abroad this vessel has included daily sword-fighting lessons with Jack. He has expressed to me that he has a fear that I will die in front of him, and he wanted me to learn how to fight. I may not be experienced as Jack, but I can now put up a fight and save myself just in case. This is one of those times.

"Call for me if you need me."

"I won't need you." I was being cocky, but I needed to be.

"Pearl," he huffed.

"Fine, fine. I'll call for you," I promised just so he wouldn't worry about me.

"Good."

The pirates from the Revenge were swinging onto the Wench, and we were ready to fight them. Well, at least the crew was. I found myself slowly backing up, but gripping my cutlass tighter.

Our ship fired cannons toward the Revenge, but they didn't fire any back. I assumed it was because all of their men were on our ship, unable to defend her. That didn't seem like a very strategic plan.

It didn't take long for one of the pirates to find me and start swinging. I hit my sword against his, and we began to duel. We kept hitting our swords, moving across the deck as we did while ducking and avoiding all the other fighting that was around us.

I gripped my sword with two hands to make my slashes as forceful as they could be. I whipped the blade down and cut the pirates forearm which made him scream and drop his sword. He put up a good fight, but I came out victorious.

I glanced around at everyone else, and my victory was soon overshadowed by everyone else's. They basically defeated all the other pirates on that ship with their eyes closed. I was still breathing hard and I grunted in frustration. I wish I was as good at sword-fighting as they were.

Everyone slowly stopping fighting as we watched a white flag rise up the mast. The pirates from the Revenge, those that were still alive, had dropped their weapons and were begging for their lives to be spared. I may be a bad swordsman, but they were far worse.

I joined Jack with boarding the Revenge and meeting with their captain. We found the Captain by his mast. Jack held his cutlass out, ready to fight this man at any given moment.

"Please, don't kill me," the Captain begged. His knees were shaking and his face was red from holding back tears. He was pathetic and it hard to watch. "I beg of you."

Jack slowly glanced at me and we shared a look before he went back to observing this captain. Jack asked, "who are you?"

"My name is Stede Bonnet, sir. Captain Stede Bonnet."

"Well, Captain Bonnet, today is your lucky day." Jack slipped the cutlass into his scabbard so I followed suit. "My men are going to take what we can from your ship while you and your men get to stand and watch. Savvy?"

"Yes, please. Take everything." He was nodding vigorously. He adjusted his powdered wig just a bit.

"Have I heard of you before?" Jack asked him. As if by some sort of telepathy, our men started boarding the Revenge and looting it for all she was worth.

"I've been called the Gentleman Pirate," he stated.

"Doesn't ring a bell." Jack shrugged.

"What gave you the audacity to try to attack another pirate ship?" I asked him.

"Aye, what she said." Jack wanted to know too.

"Just to show my men that we could do it. We don't really attack ships, I don't care for that sort of violence but my men were getting restless," he explained shamefully.

"Next time teach your men how to fight. You got lucky. If I weren't me, I would have had you all killed," Jack warned.

"Thank you, sir."

"Captain Jack Sparrow," Jack introduced.

"Captain Sparrow. I'm sorry for disrupting your afternoon. I had overestimated how difficult it was going to be."

"A bit more practice and your men will be fit as fiddles."

I slipped off to let the two men talk about whatever it was that they had in common and I headed down to their galley. No one had raided it yet, but I saw a multitude of glorious things I could only dream about on a ship. Stede had his kitchen stocked full of spices, seasonings, flour, and lots of fresh meat and fruits and vegetables. I grabbed a sack and stuffed it full of spices, all while pulling my men in to help me bring as much food as we could back to the Wench.

Their men were coming back to the Revenge and my men were going back to the Wench with all the things we took. I made a quick stop at Stede's magnificent cabin where I saw a fireplace and many bookshelves. I wasn't quite sure how prominent of a feature a fireplace would be considering it's in a room full of paper, and it's on a wooden ship. One bad storm and this ship will burn to the bottom of the sea floor.

Back on the Wench, I was taking stock of our loot while someone was cutting the ropes to the grappling hooks that the pirates on the Revenge left behind. We left with a few stowaways, begging us to take them away from Stede. They complained about the severe lack of piracy on his ship, however they were paid a stable wage and had all that amazing food because Stede was filthy rich. That would explain the bookshop in his cabin. But it wasn't what they signed up for, so we took them with us.

We had stolen a multitude of gold coins, some clothes, and barrels upon barrels of rum and wine. I felt like we completely elevated our ship based on all of this alone. Now I felt like I was sailing with a man who was filthy rich.

We sailed off, stopping at Nassau quickly to participate in some trading. I tried to talk Jack into trading some of the rum and wine that we had for gold, but he told me I was being silly to suggest such a terrible thing. We did end up trading some tobacco, coffee, cacao, velvet, and wood for gold, medical supplies, gunpowder, and even a couple of cannons. We had to sacrifice a couple barrels of wine for that one, much to Jack's dismay.

We began our journey North to try to catch whatever was left from this infamous shipwreck.

Jack came up to me and said, "your sword-fighting has improved."

"You think so?" I asked.

"I know so. You could use a bit more practice."

"Then let's practice," I said. I took a step back and took my sword out of my scabbard, the tip was still stained red from the last pirate I crossed my blade with.

Jack laughed and slid out his cutlass, tilting the blade slightly to see the sun reflected off the steel. He quickly jumped towards me with his blade by my face, forcing me to jump back and bash my blade against his just to get it away from me.

I kept moving my head because I was afraid that Jack might miss and accidentally swing and dig his blade into the side of my skull. He finally got me to fall on my knees and it ended with him pointing his blade at my chest.

"You have to be a little quicker than that, darling," he quipped. He dropped the sword and gave me his hand, helping me stand up. "We will work on your footwork, and whatever that was you were doing with your neck. Looked painful."

"I'd think dying with a blade in your skull is far more painful."

"You think I would do such a thing?" He laughed but sounded slightly offended.

"I was afraid you'd miss."

"I never miss."

I noticed his sword loose in his grip. Like a flash of lightning, I stabbed the point of my sword between Jacks hand and the sword handle and flung it out of his grasp. It flung off the tip of my sword and we both stood in awe, watching it pierce through the air and finally land in the sea.

Jack's jaw was slightly dropped, and he slowly looked to me with just his eyes. I honestly didn't believe that would work either, but I had to at least pretend like that was on purpose.

"You have to be a little quicker than that, darling," I mimicked to him in his English accent.

"How the bloody hell did you do that?" He asked, now looking back to where his sword dropped in the ocean.

I wasn't about to tell him that it was an accident so instead I said, "grab another one and let's do it again."

"Sword!" He demanded, and within moments another sword was in his hand. He slashed it in my direction, and I blocked it and slammed my sword down to the floor. I swung it back up and Jack blocked it, a sequence we repeated over and over.

"Watch that footwork... good girl," he coached as we dueled. I took his corrections willingly.

Sword-fighting reminded me of the game of chess. It's much more physical than chess, but just as much of a mind game. You have to assess the situation at hand, which is the man wielding a sword in your face, commit to your move, then quickly calculate your opponents next move which then you have to figure your move after that and the saga continues.

One thing I've learned about practicing with Jack is that he never lets you know what his next move is going to be. He will do something so unorthodox and crazy, it'll make me stop to think and by then it's too late. He has beaten me. I loathe it when he beats me, but it makes me stronger and smarter about the next time I fight. He has taught me to be unpredictable to throw off my opponent.

Jack twisted his blade around mine but I refused to let it slip out of my hand. I tightened my grip, which threatened a broken wrist. Jack then moved the blade close to my torso, making me yelp and try to spin away from it but it only spun me into his chest. He pinned me to him with our blades crossed behind my back.

"You're improving."

"Not enough to beat you," I huffed.

"I'm the best. You can't beat the master."

"One day, I will."

"Sure, darling. So, tell me... give me one good reason why I shouldn't spill your blood all over this deck right now?" Jack grunted through his teeth.

I don't think I could escape this even if I wanted to. My fate is to be with Jack for forever. Sword fighting is like a dance. I was following his lead. As we moved together, I could feel that he is all I could ever need. I could have this dance for the rest of my life, because with him, everything felt so right.

I lifted my chin up slightly to look up at Jack, who was fighting a smile himself. I said, "because I promise to love you forever more."

"Captain! White sails!"

Jack and I froze and looked out to see many ships with white sails coming our way. He released me from his hold and he faced the wind.

Jack's eyes widened and all he said was, "Beckett."

"From the Company?" I asked. "Again?"

"Aye." Jack stepped away from me and kept his earnest gaze on the ships heading our way. It was one of us against a dozen of them. "When you've been here as long as I have, you'll know where all the good hiding spots are. I'm gonna go to one." Jack turned to me and said, "you need to get below deck."

"No, I won't leave you."

"This is not a choice for you to make, Pearl," he hissed.

"What are you planning on doing?"

Jack sighed and said, "surrendering."

"You are going to surrender?" I asked in disbelief.

A cannon fired, and it zoomed past the front of the ship and it landed in the water. A deafening roll of thunder enclosed the ship as cannon balls rained down on us. Shots were threateningly close. Everywhere were explosions of water.

Someone called out, "that was a warning shot. The next one will be into the hull."

"It's the only way to keep you safe. Besides, why fight when you can negotiate? Right? Raise up the white flag!" Jack shouted.

Beckett was outraged at us. Mostly at Jack, but was probably going to punish every single one of us just by mere association. As the ship got closer, everyone was looking at Jack for a command. Even he was second guessing his decision, but finally he walked up to the taffrail with his arms raised.

"I surrender," he announced.

All of us on the deck peered at one another, puzzled by his plan. Weapons were clambering as they dropped to the wooden deck by our feet and everyone raised their hands. Even my cutlass slipped from my grasp and clattered at my feet. With my chin down, I raised my arms in surrender, praying that Jack knew what he was doing.

The Sentinel sailed up to the Wicked Wench and many British officials boarded our ship. One of the guards grabbed my arm and brutally escorted me onto the Endeavor, where I came face to face with Lord Beckett.

"Ah, Sir Beckett. To what do I owe the pleasure of your carbuncle?" Jack asked. He had a guard on either side of him, gripping his arms tightly through his coat.

Beckett looked at us with his cold eyes and he said, "send them to my chambers."

"I'm good," Jack said to dismiss them. He tried to walk away but the guards grabbed his arms tighter and pulled him back. Jack stumbled back and his eyes widened.

"That wasn't a request," Beckett hissed.

I was shoved into his quarters, with Jack right beside me. I was released from the clutches of the guards, but they drew their guns on us. Jack had an intense scowl in his face as he stared beams of fire at Beckett. The door to the cabin closed when Beckett walked in. He strolled to his window, gazing out to the water.

Beckett turned to us and said firmly, "we had a deal, Jack."

"Which in hindsight was utter nonsense. What you call a deal is what I call a death sentence," Jack spat back.

"Our agreement was that you would deliver my cargo. Your loyalties and your priority should have been the cargo."

"My loyalty and priorities were solely to benefit the people upon that vessel. You are ruining her good name. Besides, our agreement had expired."

"Men, women, and children died on that voyage," I piped in. "It was all on your doing!"

"I am guiltless." Beckett snapped his head in my direction. His eyes burned into mine. He faced Jack and said, "your kind is well on their way into extinction. I gave you an opportunity, Jack, to join the winning side. You threw it away. The future is coming, and you are not in it."

"You gave me nothing but reasons to see why I became a pirate in the first place," Jack spat back.

"You must find your place in the new world, or perish."

"I don't consider being your employee the same as being a free man."

"You lost my cargo, and it will be returned to me."

"People aren't cargo, mate."

Beckett sighed and walked over to a fireplace that was in his quarters. He grabbed a metal stick and put it in the fire. Suddenly, Jack and I were both seized on either side, they were gripping our arms tightly like we were about to try to escape.

"Unhand me," I ordered but their grips got tighter.

"Despite your best efforts and mine, you refuse to die," Beckett said ominously, his gaze only on the end of his ominous metal stick. He had the blackest eyes. The devil's eyes.

"Mate, call off your scurvy dogs. Let her go," Jack ordered.

"No." Beckett turned around with the metal stick up towards his face, inspecting the glowing orange 'P'. That's when I realized it was a branding stick. "I don't think I will."

Jack laughed nervously, darting his head from Beckett to the men holding us still as if he was in on their joke. My jaw clenched and my breathing got faster, my chest heaving in terror. Jack's smile brandished all of his teeth of silver and gold. "What are you going to be doing with that, mate?"

Beckett ignored him and ordered to his men, "see to it that they do not move."

Beckett walked up to Jack while the men grabbed his arm to forcibly extended it out. They pulled up the sleeve of his jacket and his shirt to the crook of his elbow. Jack was fighting hard against them, his tendons and veins reaching the surface of his tanned skin. Beckett carefully placed the searing hot steel "P" into Jack's flesh, branding him as a pirate for life.

Jack cried out from the excruciating pain. His brown eyes bugged out of his head and I could see his chest cramping from how he stopped breathing. Beckett kept the metal there for just a couple of seconds but he was pressing into Jack's burning flesh firmly, instantly vaporizing his tanned skin. I could smell the burning flesh of his skin melting away.

"Stop it! Take me instead," I begged. I couldn't bare to see him hurt like this.

"Don't you touch her," Jack spat out before hissing in tremendous pain.

"Temper, temper. It'll be her turn soon enough," Beckett said while taking his time.

Once he released the brand, he retreated back to his fireplace and put the branding stick back into the fire. Jack squeezed his eyes shut, his arm was still shaking from the pain. This was retribution for losing his "cargo".

"You godless monster!" I shouted and thrashed around. I managed to slip out of their grasp and lunge for Beckett. He swung his hand and he slapped me hard in the face. The harsh sting spreading through my cheek didn't stop me until the men dragged me back.

"I am God as far as you are concerned," Beckett hissed.

"Do not touch her!" Jack ordered. He tried to struggle out of his captured hands but his attempts were fruitless.

"If only Adam had struck Eve. We would still be in the garden," Beckett said.

I was breathing heavily, my dark hair was straggly in front of my face. My cheek was stinging. My mouth tasted like it was full of pennies so I spit a red glob on his floor. I turned to Jack and asked, "are you okay?"

Tears had sprung from his eyes but he said shakily, "it doesn't feel nearly as as bad as it looks. It's not so bad. Don't care for me. Are you all right?"

I gulped and nodded softly. What I went through is nothing compared to what Jack just endured. I knew he was just saying that to make me feel better, considering Beckett was heating the branding stick once again.

Before I knew it, the men shoved me down to my knees as if I was praying. They grabbed my wrist and extended my arm out while pulling the billowing sleeve of my shirt up my arm.

I looked up at Beckett and pleaded, "you don't have to do this."

"There will be some changes made, your roving days will be through. Pray tell, what will it take for you to privateer with me?" He asked me. His eyes burning into mine. "Don't you want to get away from the slimy, grotesque and insubordinate pirates? I know you are a bit more sophisticated than the lot you are with. I have what you need—I have what you want. So, come with me, and I'll take you to the winning side."

"I quite enjoy this peasant life you say I'm trapped in."

"Your personality and manner are bewitching, far too sophisticated to be with pirates. With me, you'll live among the swells."

"I said no."

"You little devil. Are you sure? You were born worthless and you will die worthless. Only the fleas will mourn you. This is your final chance at redemption."

"I'm quite sure, thank you." I lifted my chin up regally.

"God will show you no mercy."

"You are insufferable," I retorted.

"May the Devil punish you to the highest degree."

I spat at him, "your chosen methodology of interaction displays a shocking measure of unmitigated temerity."

"Who do you think you are?" He snapped back.

"I am someone you will wish you never crossed."

Beckett's eyes met mine and he spat, "pirate."

He pressed the "P" into my flesh, and I hissed through my teeth. I squeezed my fist tightly as I heard my skin pop and sizzle under the heat. My nails dug into the flesh of my palm. I was shaking violently. It felt like an eternity before he released the metal and I saw the burn on my wrist. Even after the metal was removed, my tissue continued to burn. It blackened my skin, and the red skin around it was irritated and inflamed. The more I looked at my branding, the more I wanted to throw up. My knees and stomach felt weak. Tears streamed down my cheeks as an attempt for my body to release the immense pain. This was a torture I never want to endure again.

Beckett commanded, "bring them out to the deck."

Jack and I were abruptly escorted to the deck, I was stumbling over my feet. I still felt faint and like my stomach was turning. Beads of sweat were rolling down my cheeks. We glanced around and noticed that we were pretty far away from the Wicked Wench. The entire crew were trapped in shackles on the deck, with facial expressions telling us that they didn't know what was happening either.

Breathing heavily, I looked up through my long eyelashes and hissed under my breath, "I'm going to personally escort Beckett to the gates of hell."

Beckett forced us to line up against the taffrail of the ship, facing the Wicked Wench. My head snapped back and forth, trying to piece together what was happening. Muskets were pointed in our direction with trigger happy guards.

"Ready," Beckett announced.

My breathing quickened and my back tightened, ready for them to shoot us all down dead in a moments notice. Death by firing squad. Just like my family.

"Aim."

I squeezed my eyes shut. I tried desperately to mentally take myself out of this dreadful situation and go somewhere happier. I felt the salty sea air against my face and the sun beating down on my skin, ready to bring me up to the light.

"Fire."

I nearly jumped out of my own skin when the guns went off. I felt no pain, so for a moment I thought I was already dead. I opened my eyes, and I saw cannon smoke lingering in the air around us. I looked up at Jack, and his eyes were fixated out to the distance. I followed his gaze, and saw the cannon ball holes in the hull of the Wicked Wench.

Cannons kept going off, damaging the ship to smithereens. The cannons eventually hit some gunpowder, because a few of us took some steps back away from the taffrail when the ship exploded with fire rising up into the blue sky. It ate the wood and climbed up the sails, charring the sails and burning the wood.

"This is horrific," I stated, trying to catch my breath.

"Now there is nothing," Jack said solemnly. His eyes were empty, and his voice sounded far away.

"What will happen to you?" I asked.

"They will take me to the nearest port and hang me," he replied glumly.

"From the gallows?" I asked.

Jack nodded. "That's the place."

"Can't you request a pardon from the King?"

"I don't think he would pardon a pirate turned privateer turned pirate... again."

"Oh, Jack..." I said woefully.

"It's all right. They do what's right by them. They'll hang me, and I'll be dead and gone. I've accepted the hanging, but laying in the grave for so long is... well..."

"I'm sorry."

Jack tried to hide the salty tears in his eyes. He smiled while he said, "I'm going to be all right. Don't worry about ole Jack. Heaven is not so far. It is wherever you are."

"What will happen to me?" I asked.

He thought for a moment before he said, "you'll need to request a pardon. Say you were kidnapped and held hostage on the Wicked Wench. They might let you go free."

"I can't do that."

"Promise me."

"I will not ruin your good name," I told him firmly.

Jack laughed. "Trust me, darling, you can't ruin it more than it already is."

"I refuse to give them another reason to hang you."

"You cannot undo what's going to be done."

"I do not wish to live unless I'm living with you."

"I will not be able to die knowing that you'll be coming after me. You need to live, my love. Live for me. Promise me, Pearl."

I exhaled roughly. He was stubborn. He has always been stubborn, I shouldn't have imagined he would be any other way. "I promise."

His lips twitched up in a small smile, but he looked down defeatedly. His eyes were big, as if he was lost in thought. He barely let out his whisper, "thank you."

"Beckett destroying the Wench may be the greatest punishment of all," I mumbled. I know how important that ship is to Jack. Beckett must know it too.

Jack looked defeated. His face sagged as he was forced to watch one of the things he loves most start to sink into the depths of the unforgiving ocean. He watched his dreams disappear. He said softly, "a captain always goes down with his ship."

"What are you going to do?" I asked him.

"I'm gonna get pissed," he stated and started trudging back to go across the deck. The guards kept their guns fixed on him, but Beckett raised his hand to tell them to leave him be. For Beckett, I'm sure a death by gunshot was too easy for someone like Jack Sparrow. He wanted to see Jack struggle and die painfully slow.

I looked over my shoulder to Jack, and he stood beside Beckett. Beckett slyly gave him a bottle of rum and said, "there is no greater joy than to see her kiss the ocean floor."

Jack had a danger in the dark of his eyes. His eyes squinted as he took Beckett's offering and took a long swig, little did I know that this was because he knew this would be the last thing he would ever drink.

I blinked and Jack raced across the ship's deck and he hurdled himself off the ship. I gasped and we all practically threw ourselves over the railing to try to look for him beneath the waters surface. Waves were crashing into the hull, surrounding the ship but I couldn't see Jack. The bright sun reflected against the water, blinding me. My hand came up to my frantic heart and my stomach cramped with terror.

I turned to Beckett and asked, "are you going to let him do that?"

He merely shrugged and said, "he can be my guest. He can burn."

I snapped my head toward the water and saw Jack climbing the rigging of the Wench to reach the deck. I wasn't sure what his goal was, she was burning and already sinking. I saw no hope that he would be able to save the ship he clearly treasured. I gripped the taffrail anxiously, feeling my nails dig into the dark wood. I saw my Jack disappear under the roaring flames, with black smoke rising up into the bright blue sky.

"Come on, Jack. Come on, Jack. Get out of there," I pleaded under my breath. Why would he do this?

The Wicked Wench was slowly dipping down into the water. She was sinking. Some of the smoke cleared and I saw Jack trying desperately to control the fire on the ship. A crack of the mast echoed all the way to the Endeavor, and I watched helplessly as the mast collapsed, with a falling beam collapsing on Jack, knocking him unconscious.

"Oh, Jack," I gasped and covered my mouth with my hands. Without a moment to think, I just about jumped onto the taffrail to save Jack but I stopped when I heard a gun clicking behind my head. It made the hair on the back of my neck stand up straight.

"If you jump, I will shoot you."

I froze and paused for a moment. If I jump, he will shoot me. If I don't, I'll be forced to watch Jack die. Warm tears filtered over my eyes, making my vision hazy. The wind blew my hair around my face, trying to settle me down.

Beckett put the gun up against the back of my head, sending chills down my warm body. He said lowly, "I have no tolerance for incompetence."

I slowly put my foot down on the wooden deck. Beckett slithered his arm around my body with the gun still pressed against my head. He whispered in my ear, "there is no greater punishment than watching your love die."

I watched as the Wicked Wench collapsed on itself, with fire exploding from everywhere. My hand covered my gaping mouth. My stomach dropped, filling my body with dread. My soul trembled. This is where Jack had his final stand.

I stood there, with my breath stuck in my throat. Eyes open, glistening with tears that threatened to spill onto my classic ivory cheeks. Beckett placed his hand upon my shoulder. His lips came down to my unsuspecting ear and he hissed, "how terrible it is to love something that death can touch?"

My face contorted into a snarl and I quickly turned to face him while lunging, trying to wrap my hands around his throat. "You impious barbarian!"

Beckett's men grabbed me and pulled me back. Once I realized I wouldn't be able to escape their grasp, I caught my breath and barked at him, "for every breath you take is a breath wasted."

"And every pirate alive is a waste of life," he spat.

"I'll see you in hell, Beckett."

"Why do you care for that pathetic excuse of a man? He is nothing but scum that walks this earth."

"He was more of a man than you'll ever be."

His eyes brightened with a sinister glisten. "May Heaven help a fool who falls in love. Perhaps God will show you mercy by letting you join him in the afterlife. Or may the Devil condemn you in the pits of hell."

I clenched my jaw and turned back to the ocean. I helplessly watched the ship disappear under the waves of the Caribbean Sea, with her captain on deck. I watched as Jack sank with the ship through the tears in my eyes. Like a river flows surely to the sea, was this always our fate? His death came with fear and horror. Not a gentle release of life.

Beckett released me when he felt my body finally relax from trying to escape his custody. Jack was dead, and I had given up. He ordered, "take them all down to the brig."

I was grabbed by his henchmen and they forced me down to the brig. They locked the rusty cage behind me, and filtered the rest of the crew throughout the lower deck. The wood that enclosed us was slimy, and the stench of mildew and mold overwhelmed my nose. I thought that for a royal naval vessel they'd take better care of their possessions.

I walked backwards until my back hit the wall behind me. I slid down until I was sitting on the sticky ground and I put my heavy head on my knees. I guess their brig is not as slimy as ours on the Wicked Wench, but it was still disgusting. I thought back to the first time I met Jack. Every turn ever since has been a surprise. I realized just how quickly time had gone by.

How I wish I could have made one of our precious moments together last forever. I didn't want our story to die with him, so I must hold onto our love for forever. This love will always live inside my heart. My love for him was pure, and it flowed like a river through our souls. It wasn't until I met Jack I felt whole for the first time.

The shell of my heart throbbed. He was my soulmate, who just wasn't meant to be. I felt like I was left alone with nothing but a memory. Life seems dead and so unreal. All that's left is loneliness, there is nothing left for me to feel.

Narrator's POV

The moment the cold ocean water splashed onto Jack's face, he awoke but without time to get off the sinking ship. The heavy beam pinned his body to the deck as it overflowed with salty sea water. Not only water, but fear also washed over Jack. He could feel the icy breath of death upon his nape. When he realized he was moments from drowning, he knew there was only one last thing he could do to save himself.

He had to summon Davy Jones.

The last of Jack's bubbles escaped his mouth as he screamed out through the water, "Davy! Davy Jones!"

Jack's attempts were fruitless. His body was weak and the lack of oxygen to his brain was making him exhausted. He could still feel the flames licking his skin. His stinging eyes fluttered as he tried desperately to keep them open, because he knew that if he closed them, he would certainly die. His head bobbed up and down from the currant as the Wicked Wench sank to the ocean floor.

"Jack Sparrow."

Jack's head lifted up just in time to see the legendary phantom ship sailing up to him from the distant waters. The Flying Dutchman had been raised from its watery grave. It sailed through the currant as if it were sailing upon the waves. Her sails were torn with algae and sea specimens hanging from the rigging and the masts. Her crew were full of men who have made deals with Davy Jones, vowing to serve upon his ship for eternity. Their faces have been contorted and bodies merged into that of sea creatures. The ghostly ship approached the young seaman, with her captain ready to make a deal.

"Davy Jones," Jack gasped. Now, he wasn't really alive, and he wasn't really dead either. He was in limbo, with only one chance to stay in the physical world. Jack's breathing was labored as he balanced on the fine line between death and life.

"Jack Sparrow. Do you fear death?" Davy asked. His beard of tentacles wiggled in the water below his chin. He had a face of blubber, and the claw of a crab for an arm.

Jack croaked out, "I don't fear anything, mate."

"Your time is coming to an end," Davy informed him, chillingly.

Jack knew he was dying, but he said, "I'll bounce back. I always do."

Davy shook his blubbery head. "No, not this time, son."

"But I am supposed to keep her safe. That's my job."

"Now, your job is to be dead, and to let her go."

"Undo what I have done. I beg of you," Jack begged when he realized that his Pearl was to suffer a fate worse than death at the hands of Beckett. It didn't matter if she pleaded for a pardon, for just being associated with piracy she was to be hanged at dawn. Beckett made no exceptions.

"You've made your decision, a decision you cannot take back. So, Sparrow, I'm going to ask again. Do you fear death?"

"No."

"May God save your soul."

As Davy was about to board his ship and leave, Jack stopped him. "Oi, hold it."

Davy turned back to Jack.

"I do have a rather enthralling proposition for you," Jack said, officially ordering a bargain. His raven locks swayed in the ocean water around him.

Davy's blubber above his eyes lifted up as if he was raising an eyebrow. His dark eyes squinted a bit. Intrigued, he allowed Jack to make his request.

"How's about you raise up the ole Wicked Wench from the depths, aye? And in return, I will serve upon your rather... charming... vessel. Savvy?"

Davy enjoyed the sound of that. He had been following Jack Sparrow for quite some time as he often dodged death. Despite what anyone says, Jack is a very knowledgeable and great sailor. He would be a great benefit upon the Flying Dutchman. He said, "you shall have your ship for ten years before you are summoned to serve upon the Flying Dutchman."

Jack's thick eyebrows lowered. That was much lower than he anticipated. He decided to aim for an amount of time he would probably be dead by anyway. "Twenty."

Davy looked back at Jack and glared at him. "Ten."

Jack stuck his nose up in the water confidently. "Fifteen."

Davy hissed, "ten."

"Fourteen."

"Ten."

"Thirteen."

Davy stopped, and his eyes brightened a little. He stuck out his tentacle and concurred, "thirteen."

Jack smiled gratefully and he wiggled his free hand up and grabbed Davy's tentacle to shake it in agreement. "You're a diamond, mate."

"I'll be waiting. Thirteen years to serve me for one hundred." Davy grinned. He was thrilled for Jack to become his slave. For being an immortal phantom of the sea, thirteen years will go by in the blink of an eye.

Jack gulped softly, and Davy vanished with the phantom Flying Dutchman. Thirteen years felt like it was so far away, so it would be a problem for future Jack to deal with. All Jack cared about now was that his vessel was going to sail once again.

The ship shook which made Jack grunt. His eyes widened and a scream escaped his chapped lips as the ship quickly rose to the top of the waters surface. It broke through the water, and it bounced before it finally settled on the calm waves.

Jack frantically looked around with his stomach still pressed against the ships deck. He coughed a bit and some water slipped out from his pale lips, but he noticed that the beam was no longer pinning him down. He rolled over onto his back and he propped himself up on his elbows and he rubbed his eyes to get the salt water out of his foggy vision.

Jack blinked the rest of the saltwater away, and while it cleared he looked up to the sky. The sunny bright blue sky looked down upon him, and he let the sun kiss his cheeks. He never thought he'd appreciate the sun so much after barely escaping death.

His gaze focused on the charred sails that waved above him. His eyes squinted when he realized that his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. They were black as coal. There were some holes ripped through the tough linen canvas from the fire, but it didn't seem to damage the sailing ability these sails had.

Jack scrambled up to his feet and he inspected the black sails and burnt ship. Her hull was scorched, but she was fully repaired, ready to take on the raging seas. She no longer looked like the Wicked Wench, so Jack knew he needed another name for her.

His eyes glazed over as he went through different ideas in his head. The moment he thought of the name, Black Pearl, he knew that was the new name of his reborn ship. A ship he was going to use to save Idina, his pearl.