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

an uncivilized funeral

It was Elizabeth who asked. "Where's Jack?"

The question paralyzed Joanna. She was already trembling hard enough to rock the boat. When she opened her mouth to answer, she choked, tasting bile.

Elizabeth's mien was stony and cool. She knows, Joanna thought with feverish clarity. Of course Elizabeth knew -- it was from her Joanna had stolen the handcuffs. It's not a choice, Joanna had proclaimed, sidling closer to Elizabeth and her prize. You can't.

Joanna managed to rasp a reply. "He's staying behind." As reality caught up to her, her voice was strangled into a whisper. "To give us a chance."

Her vision went blurry. Joanna buried her face in her hands, sucking deep breaths. She felt unhinged, unreal, like a ghost, floating across the waves and occasionally finding the company of five pirates, a governor's daughter, and Will Turner.

Will Turner. Joanna squeezed her eyes shut. In a brief, hot flash, she hated Will, despised him, for forcing her hand. Of course I would choose you, she screamed into the dark recesses of her mind.

(Of course she would choose her little brother.)

At her side, Elizabeth ordered sharply for the boys to start rowing. Her hand found the small of Joanna's back, rubbing small, clement circles.

...

The image of the Black Pearl, dipping beneath Persian blue waves, slow and magnificent, would remain imprinted on the backs of Joanna's eyelids until the day she died.

As she watched, burning eyes wide through the gaps between her fingers, she wondered why this murder seemed to clamp around her ribs and squeeze. Joanna had killed people; her faithful, gold-embedded dao had pierced the bellies of many unfortunate men. She had raided ships and looted establishments. She had stopped hearts.

But Joanna had never killed Jack Sparrow.

Captain Jack Sparrow. Joanna's lips curled into a smile, but it quickly flickered out.

Joanna looked up and found the eyes of Elizabeth Swann. They exchanged a glance that lasted too long, recognizing themselves in each other -- two women who could kill Jack Sparrow.

...

Hours later, Joanna blinked, startled by cool hands curling her fingers around a warm mug. Her tired, aching eyes flicked upward, finding the eerie visage of Tia Dalma.

"Against de cold, and de sorrow," murmured the witch. Her eyes glimmered knowingly. Surely, I'm not that transparent, Joanna weakly assured herself. Surely the entire room could not perceive her guilt.

Thunk. Will's knife sank sharply into wood, over and over. Thunk. He gazed pensively into the thin, jagged wounds the blade left in Tia Dalma's table. Joanna wondered what he was mourning -- Jack or Davy Jones' heart or the Black Pearl.

"'Tis a shame," Tia said sagaciously, circling to face Will. "I know you be thinking, with de Pearl, you could have caught the devil an' wrestled free your father's soul."

Will spared her an upward glance, gaze flickering dubiously. "Doesn't matter now. The Pearl's gone...along with her captain." Thunk. The knife struck wood once more.

Joanna eyed him, amending her thinking. Perhaps Will felt more than one loss.

"Aye. An' already the world seems a bit less bright," said Gibbs. He was slumped in the open, softly-glowing doorway, framed by the mourning candles peppering the swamp.