Pirate, Extraordinaire // Sequel to Take Off Your Dress, Pick Up A Sword

a persuasion

art credited to darrel warner. i grabbed this sketch from bring me that horizon: the making of pirates of the caribbean. in dmc concept art, elizabeth is usually depicted with short hair! it's a crime that didn't make it into the film, so i'm writing lizzie with short hair in my story. there's a cute visual for ya. xo

Joanna woke slowly, draped over her bedmate like a shroud.

Beneath her cheek, Jack's chest was vibrating from cheerful humming. His fingers skipped up-and-down the raised bumps of her spine. "Maraud and embezzle, and even high-jack," he murmured.

"Drink up me hearties, yo ho," Joanna rasped, her voice rough from sleep. Her nose wrinkled. "You smell."

"You smell," Jack retorted. "But I'm polite enough to say nothing."

"Well, pardon me." Joanna heaved herself into a sitting position with effort. She smiled down at him, fond of his disheveled hair and bright eyes. "How're you?"

Grinning a challenge, Jack raised his chin. "Sore."

"At least I left you in one piece." Joanna indicated her right ear, or lack thereof, with amusement. "Help me change the bandages?"

"'Course, Anna." Jack wiggled out from underneath her, bouncing to his feet with uncanny energy. He searched the floor, kicking around various articles of clothing in search of his own. "Will you paint my eyes?"

Joanna's face heated. "Of course," she replied, ducking her head to hide a smile. She proposed, "And after that, we can talk to Elizabeth."

Jack's mood dove smoothly into a sulk.

...

The balmy morning found Elizabeth standing over the rail of the Pearl, staring wistfully into the bright sea as if the waves could return Will Turner to her.

Joanna and Jack eyed her from across the deck with equal trepidation. 

Jack visibly prickled with discomfort. "Do I have to?"

Joanna smiled sweetly, pulling her fingers over the round, golden hilt of her sword. "Don't you want to?"

Jack's coy eyes observed her veiled threat. "Guess so." Without further adieu, he set a course for Elizabeth Swann. Joanna accompanied him as a determined chaperone.

"Miss Swann," Jack began grandly.

Elizabeth turned with curious surprise. Her eyes narrowed at the guileless shift of his feet. "Captain Sparrow. Joanna."

Over Jack's shoulder, Joanna flapped her hand in a cheerful wave.

Jack shot her a ruffled glare. "Anyway. 'S come to my attention that omitting truths to one's guests is rather and thoroughly rude, and y'know that's jus' not me, luv. So sorry." With a half-smile, Jack pressed his hands together and bowed apologetically. Elizabeth's eyebrows shot into her hairline. "I'm afraid that, through an unfortunate and entirely foreseeable series of circumstances that do have everything whatsoever to do to me, Will's been press-ganged into Davy Jones' viscous crew." Jack offered a sheepish grin as a grand finale. "Savvy?"

Arms folded, Elizabeth regarded Jack coolly. "That's all?" Her eyes flickered to Joanna, who shrugged -- that's all. "May I ask the circumstances?"

Jack's thumbs hooked into his belt. He swayed precariously. "You may ask."

Elizabeth's eyebrows climbed steadily higher as she waited.

"A soul debt," Joanna answered on Jack's behalf, noticing his increasing twitchiness. "Will's soul, for Jack's. But I don't know more than that."

Elizabeth cocked her head, smiling bitterly. "You trade him for a ship; now for yourself."